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A favorite leisure-time activity of the high-school age boys of
Alderson was trying to find ways to make the lives of the young
men at Camp Greenbrier for Boys as miserable as we could. The
Camp Greenbrier guys were seen as upper-crust snobs from the
tidewater section of Virginia, and many of them were just that. We
viewed them as our rivals for the favors of the Alderson young
women, and saw it as our duty to protect the ladies from the
blandishments of the interloping rich boys from afar.
One Alderson boy, who lived just across the river
from the Camp, would at odd intervals, row over during the campers
lunch or supper hour, and steal everything that wasn’t nailed
down! Several other fellows who had strong throwing arms,
delighted in standing outside the Camp fence and pelting the Camp
area with rocks. Another bright young man found that, with his
older brother’s tennis racket, he could lob the hard pears from a
tree on East Maple Avenue deep into the Campgrounds!
The owners of Camp Greenbrier weren’t too
cooperative in those years either, for example; they used the
Greenbrier River for swimming and canoeing, but they did not, of
course, have ownership of the River, however they acted as though
they did, telling anyone who attempted to use the river near them
to get out!
Bob Carter, Bunk Rowe, Bill Bryant and I decided
that something needed to be done to make Camp Greenbrier know they
were not the Kings of the River! We decided to cut free the large
dock they placed each year, in the river to use as a swimming and
diving and sunning spot! The dock, we imagined, would then float
away causing confusion and consternation on the part of all Camp
people, present and future, and enshrining us in the Alderson Hall
of Fame as defenders of the community’s honor!
We spent several days plotting and planning our
operation. We were aware that the Dock was secured by cables
running to large trees on the river bank, and that bolts and nuts
were used to secure the cable to the dock, what we did not know
was, whether or not the bolts and nuts were badly rusted. The
Dock floated on a number of large metal oil barrels and had maybe
two feet of space underneath. We could find concealment under the
dock.
We knew that we must approach the dock from the
water, we decided that the best way would be to enter the river
above the Camp, near what was then known as the “Patton
Swimming Hole”, float through the rapids downstream and
approach the Dock from the upstream side! One of us then would
stay in the water almost at the bank and watch for any camp folks
who might spread the alarm. The others would undo the nuts and
bolts that secured the cables and free the dock. We knew that the
weight and size of the dock, (about 30 X 30 feet) , would prevent
it from moving quickly and we would have plenty of time, after the
Dock was freed, to then swim downstream to “Markley's Swimming
Hole” now known as the “Alderson Mini-Park”.
We needed transportation, we enlisted “Lib” Housby
and took her into our confidence, and she agreed to help! A few
nights later, in her Dad’s Oldsmobile, she took us to “Patton’s
Swimming Hole”, and dropped us off to begin our mission of
reprisal!
It went like clockwork, down the rapids in the cool
July water, floating, bumping along like four little innocent
otters until we finally reached the head of the Camp Greenbrier
pool and then very silently and vigilantly underneath the Dock.
One of us had brought a wrench or pliers and the undoing of the
first cable took only a few minutes. When it was released the Dock
swung outward in the river and for a moment we thought the
movement might cause problem or even an alarm from Camp. No
problem. The last cable was loosened and we very quickly counted
noses and ever so quietly began the long swim down to “Markley's”.
Dear “Lib” was there to pick us up; behind the
bushes along the riverbank, we changed into the dry clothing we
had left in her automobile, then slowly, just as if she had been
doing this sort of thing all her life, Lib drove us each home to
the safety of our beds.
The next morning, of course, we couldn’t wait to
see what had happened to the Dock. It was wonderful; the bridge
had many folks on it, looking down at one of the piers and
wondering who or what had happened. A number of Camp Greenbrier
Canoes were nearby, with the occupants scratching their heads . We
were elated...
Bill Bryant slipped away from us, went up to Camp
Greenbrier and got a job helping get the Dock back home, talk
about making opportunities. He worked the rest of that summer. and
several more at the Camp, a great example of opportunism at work. |
