Dewey
In 1959, most people visiting the camp paid little attention to its caretaker, Dewey
Lambert. Most folks didn’t notice or care about the presence of the
care-taker until something didn’t work. During summer camp, however,
one could not ignore his presence. Dewey had the keys to everything.
He had the truck and his tools to repair anything. He had the past experience
to know how and what to do. He became a critical part of any successful
camp experience. But, few knew the man beyond his job position.
Over the course of several years, Dewey became a friend. I grew to
know his loneliness after his wife’s death. I heard stories about his
growing up in Kentucky. I didn’t notice his needed dental care services
that never arrived. He became a friend of mine. The third summer
I worked with Dewey, I happened to be around when he began his plan for a
trip back to Kentucky. Then, suddenly, one Monday morning he was gone.
The staff didn’t know what was happening. A few wondered if he would
return to camp. A few others, contemplated what they thought would happen.
But we were all shocked when Dewey returned to camp a week later with his
childhood sweetheart and new wife, Litha.
I remember, for the next three years, they lived in their three-room cabin
heated with a pot-belly stove. The only propane gas supply was in the
kitchen. I remember the glare from the uncovered light bulbs and the
creaking wood floors though out the house. I often thought they were
camping-out all year long and they were content.
Litha was from the hills of Kentucky. She would go out early in the
morning to find her Ginsang and Jewel Root. And, when she would invite
me over for some biscuits and gravy, I would have to walk through the kitchen’s
maze of strings and drying roots.
Litha would always look forward to each trip she and Dewey made with her
bagged roots that she would sell to a Kentucky drug store. She was supplying
our drug manufacturing companies with raw product needed to produce healing
medications. And, while she helped the drug store, she would earn a
few dollars to meet her personal needs while living at Camp Lazarus.
All I have now are few stories. I have no photos of Dewey and Litha…only
happy memories of my adopted summer camp grandparents that gently watched
over me as I learned to live “on my own” each summer. Dewey and Litha
were both in their late 60’s. They were both skillful listeners and
gifted advisors. Beyond camp repairs, Dewey and Litha were the grandparents
of the camp and they both loved their jobs.
I suspect few camp visitors will remember these “kind hearted” people.
But I will and, for that reason, I’m sharing this story with you about two
friends I grew to love. Only a few people ever knew Dewey beyond his key ring
and his tools. Fewer ever met his childhood sweetheart, Litha.
But, they will always remain a part of The Camp Lazaus history and they will
always live in my memory.
