Way back in the fall of 1957, my next door neighbor and fellow church member at Trinity Lutheran began her campaign to entice me to spend two weeks at Camp Hagan during the summer of ’58. She begged; she pleaded; she promised eternal gratitude and friendship – – and also commented that I’d be really stupid if I didn’t go with her.
Now the idea of being away from home for two weeks was really appealing. Throw in the swimming and sports, and I was ready to start packing. At $60 for the camping period (plus uniforms, of course) my parents’ envisioned two unencumbered, blissful weeks – – so they closed the deal.
Fast forward six months:
I can remember my Dad helping me pack for camp by offering his Navy-issue foot locker and sub-zero sleeping bag, which probably weighed more than I did at the time. For her part, Mom decided that she and I needed to have our first “Mother-Daughter” chat, just in case my body’s timing for welcoming me into adolescence picked that two weeks in July to appear.
Soon, we were on RT 209, driving towards what would be for me a ten-year love affair with Hagan. Once there, staff members (probably JCs or CITs) loaded my trunk into the Hagan station wagon, after someone had marked it in chalk with “JR-2”, whisked it away while directing us to the Rat Trap … and the rest is history. No tears, just waves good-bye as I suited up and headed towards the waterfront for my swim test.
Memories of that initial encampment are few, but I do remember that my counselor was a member of the Aquatics department and sported a tiger-print, 2-piece bathing suit, which I thought was quite risqué. The other memory is sitting around the cabin’s campfire, joined by an intermediate cabin, with the task of composing a story for the “Paul Bunyan” special day.
The next thing I remember is the anticipation during the spring of 1959 for the envelope from Queen’s Lane that would confirm that my request for attending the 4th camping session, and the anticipation of my first Hagan Christmas, had been accepted. I even looked forward to wearing my uniforms again, which luckily, I had grown into a bit more (visual: picture the 8-yr old wearing the size 16 shorts!). Since I’d learned to eat tomatoes during my first summer, my parents were convinced that it had been a worthwhile investment and were hoping for an “oatmeal breakthrough” the following year. Didn’t happen!
While I thoroughly enjoyed my JR-4 year, unfortunately family finances nixed my attendance in both ’60 and ’61. But 1962 found me in SR-1, followed by SR-4 in ’63 and SR-7 in ’64. Along the way, I earned a Blue Chevron and Blue Tie and passed my life saving test, which at the time demanded a swim across the Delaware and back. Hot stuff!
Because I had set my sights on being a CIT, I knew that I needed to be on campus for at least a month in ’63 so that the staff would get to know me. Friends, Bonnie and Sue, had the same idea and those relationships bloomed into friendships that are now in their 5th decade.
The oddity of 1965 was that there were only 1st year CITs, and I was beyond excited to be one of them. The next year, six of my group of CITs were offered JC slots, and the rest of us were offered a 2nd year in the CIT unit. Frankly, this was one of the most difficult years of my young life. My best friends were in the JC unit, and it was made very clear that we were not encouraged to interact with them. With the younger group of 1st yr. CITs, I felt totally out of place and had a hard time bonding with the unit. It wasn’t until much later in my life that I could objectively examine that time, realize that there was a good reason for me to experience a 2nd CIT year, and then honestly reflect on my growth during that summer.
The next three summers went by all too quickly: 1967 – JC, 1968 – SR-2 counselor; 1969 – DP of Religion. Religion? Were they nuts? On the other hand, why would anyone turn down a DP slot and living in the Waldorf? Somehow, I muddled through that final summer, my 10th at Hagan. Many of us that summer knew that our time in this incubator, where we had been nurtured, protected and loved, had come to an end. Little did we know or understand that the Hagan experience had soaked into our souls, and while physically the camp would cease to exist a few years later, the Hagan spirit would always remain a vital part of our lives.
“Here’s to Hagan…”
POST-College/Adult life: While I’ve worked in a teaching hospital, the software industry, and academia, the one common theme running throughout all positions was education. Whether I was holding seminars on how to fill out grant applications at Mt. Sinai, developing training modules for NYNEX employees, creating and delivering user courses for software products at Aonix, or shepherding the development of new information technology courses at Norwalk Community College, every position I held tapped into my educational core. This continued in the non-profit world as well, using my education and related skills in the church, on the Thrivent Financial county board, and with Rotary International, where I recently served as the District Governor for the 43 clubs in northeastern Pennsylvania. Whether it was during my undergrad years at Slippery Rock State or my years at Columbia Univ., earning my doctorate in Movement Sciences – Curriculum Development and Teaching Methodologies, everything I picked up was put to use, combined or repackaged for the jobs in which I found myself. No complaints, here! I was lucky enough to receive an all-round excellent education.
Currently, I’ve had the good fortune to delve into the area of coaching. This opportunity came my way very unexpectedly through the Northeastern Pennsylvania Synod Council of the ELCA, on which I currently serve. The churchwide office of the ELCA is funding the training of ELCA coaches across the country, and I was asked by our Director of Mission Outreach if I’d be interested in participating in the program. Frankly, training as a coach is the absolute next step I need to take on the leadership continuum, and I was quick to respond affirmatively. While the initial training occurred in September, the program of follow-up, online sessions for the first-level coaching continued for four months. I’m now working my way through the Level Two coaching, with two more months. Stay tuned!
While all of the above was taking place, I managed to live through one dismal marriage, raise twins sons, Brian and Michael, finally come to my senses and pick an extraordinary man for my second husband (Edwin), and do lots of traveling around the world, both on business and pleasure. We have lots still on our bucket list, including leaving the cold winters and snow behind and moving to Florida. We’re looking forward to the next stage of our mutual adventure!
But just when I thought I was comfortably retired…
Completely unexpectedly, this past September, after the first draft of this camper profile was sent in, I received a call from the current Principal Investigator of the National CyberWatch Center (NCC), a National Science Foundation-funded security center with a 10 year history. PI Casey asked if I’d be interested in doing some research for the center. It sounded like something that was right down my alley, with the added benefit that I’d be working with colleagues that are some of the leading minds in the cybersecurity educational space in the nation. Fast-forward four months, and my engagement has just been expanded to take on the Membership chair position for NCC. More challenges…more opportunities to be creative and make an impact on the cybersecurity profession, and in a small way, the security of our nation. The saga continues…
Husband Edwin and 2016 Honoree Barb Huffman Belon 
1968 – Barb is Counselor of Senior 2 
1964 Sr 7 – Barb is bottom row, second from left 
1967 JCs – JC Head Judy with JC’s Barb, Molly, Sara Beth 
Husband Edwin, Barb and Rotary International President K.R. Ravindran and his wife, Vanathy