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George Radcliffe

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George Radcliffe
Camper from 1962-1969
Camper 1 ½ years, UL 2 ½ years (slow learner), Councilor 4 years

George Radcliffe 1964
George Radcliffe 1964
in front of Tent 17

Note: I wrote this a couple years ago and never posted it. I had planned on finally attending a Durbar (2017) only to have a family wedding (nephew) surface that weekend. Alas, I once again fail to re-connect. Assuming we do a “50-year reunion in 2019, I’ve instructed all family members that no births, deaths, or marriages are permitted that weekend.

  My 8 years at Hyde Bay were critical years in my life as they provided a much-needed refuge from my “other life” as home problems pushed me to the edge every school year with Hyde Bay always bringing me back down to Earth. Without that precious escape from reality, I might not have been able to weather those difficult years. Second only to my wonderful wife Jackie of 46 years, Hyde Bay had the most profound influence on my life and career. I became a life/environmental science teacher, and Hyde Bay was written all over my classroom and activities.

  After Hyde Bay, I graduated from Hamilton College (1971), and after a brief military stint (won the first Draft Lottery), I taught middle school science on the Eastern Shore of Maryland for 38 years. Jackie and I were married in December 1970 and settled on the family property near Cambridge, MD in 1971. We had 3 boys and now have 4 grandchildren. We lost our son Andy at age 27 to a congenital heart issue, a shock because nothing had been previously diagnosed; he had just finished his first novel, and we are left with many wonderful memories. Our oldest, Scott, is a Professor at Purdue University, specializing in Swine and Human Nutrition, and his wife Meghan is the Executive Director of the American Society of Animal Science. Greg lives on the family property and works as a computer/website specialist, and his wife Melissa home schools their 3 children. Both Jackie and I retired from teaching to do day care for 3 of our grandchildren and my invalid mother while we live on and maintain the 350-year old family farm. Life has been good to us. I came out of a very loving but still difficult home situation with 2 sisters institutionalized and the family not dealing with things well. At age 12 I was becoming somewhat disconnected myself, and even school was not going well. Hyde Bay changed all that because it was the first time in my life that I felt like I belonged. Painfully shy at the time, it was only a matter of weeks before I felt like I was a part of something: the fun, creativity, and pervasive sense of humor. The memories are still fresh: the amazing personalities, waking up to that “horn from hell”, the fantastic trips, somehow getting the nerve to jump off the bridge on the Trenton Falls trip, the sailing, getting to be a UL with Jolly Schmick before we were 14, bunking with Jolly in the Mouldy City Annex and watching him cringe as he looked at the atrocious mess on my side of the Annex, and, of course, all the great kids I got to work with. Hyde Bay showed me that I was meant to be a teacher. My wife-to-be, Jackie, actually got to visit and see the camp that last summer in 1969, as we ran a pizza back to Tent #16, a pizza we had to keep warm via a couple cycles in the town laundromat’s dryer. Bob and Betty, throughout all  my time there, were so understanding of my specialized needs and did as much to bring me out of my difficult times as anyone else. They both had advanced degrees in patience.

George and Jackie Radcliffe
George and Jackie Radcliffe

   The real testament to the impact of Hyde Bay was on my career. I had a wonderful and successful career, receiving state and national awards for my unique teaching style, which wasn’t really that unique because much of it I can attribute to Hyde Bay. When I won the prestigious Disney Creativity in Teaching Award in 2005, I was asked where I did my undergraduate training; I simply said, “Hyde Bay Camp”. I specialized in outdoor environmental education and spearheaded the development of a residential outdoor education center on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. I ran a highly popular Ecology Corps for over 35 years that had Hyde Bay written all over it: trips, spontaneity, creativity and, always a sense of humor. My students canoed around the Bay, hiked parts of the Appalachian Trail, explored caves, and white water rafted in Western Maryland, although camping with 120 students was a little more stressful than a Lookout or Nebo trip. And William Clark is alive and well on the Eastern Shore, complete with some local modifications. With Otsego Lake as the starting point for the Chesapeake Bay watershed, William’s adventures could logically continue down here.
Hyde Bay was the perfect solution to much of what I saw wrong in education.  In the name of preparing students for the almighty test, we often suck the life and fun out of learning. Every administrator should have a Hyde Bay-type experience. Education is ultimately about preparing students for life, and as we all know, creativity, spontaneity, and a sense of humor are often as important as the knowledge and skills. Yes, my undergraduate training began at Hyde Bay.

Radcliife, Fenwick, Pitts, Mouldy
1964 - George Radcliffe, Frank Fenwick (d. 1982), Tim Pitts, Bob Pickett.

   How I wish my four grandchildren could have the same experiences that I did; though I’ll find a way to give them a taste of it. Although retired, I’m the Youth Coordinator for the Maryland Ornithological Society, running trips and programs throughout Maryland. Sitting in my garage is a Hyde Bay trashcan, and a print of Trenton Falls adorns our walls. What still amazes me after all these years and after working with youth my entire life is how the Hyde Bay community took in a shy 12-year old boy with no special talents and made him a part of the community.

   My brother Bill also spent a summer at Hyde Bay and contracted what may have been the most severe case of homesickness that the camp ever had to deal with. I tried to work with him, but it was Bob and Betty, as I’m sure they did countless other times, who saved the day. They firmly and lovingly worked with Bill for almost 3 weeks, with numerous phone calls and letters home. Having Jolly Schmick as a councilor that year was the final piece of the solution; his caring and sense of humor were the final piece of the remedy. Bill always treasured the name “Laughing Boy” that Jolly gave him. As was so typical of the camp, Bill was kept busy without ever actually having to be forced to do anything. Gradually his resistance wore down, and what started as the summer from hell evolved into the best summer of his young life. Even without my wonderful experiences, the miracle that they worked with Bill would warrant Bob and Betty’s god-like status. Bill sadly was killed in a car accident with his sister in 1982, but had become a highly successful and award-winning newspaper reporter. He remained a passionate Oriole fan throughout his life, going so far as to seriously suggest Jackie and I get our son Andy professional help when Andy decided to become a Yankee fan. I have a letter from both Bob and Betty to my parents after that summer, and I treasure it. They expressed so much that my parents needed to hear. Their wisdom, patience and caring were unequaled.

   Managing a 1000-acre farm, running a vacation rental, and coordinating a Williamsburg-like complex centered around a windmill on our property keep Jackie and I busier than when we taught. As the last of my generation in my family lineage, I am deep into reconstructing our family history and doing a considerable amount of writing. We are completely tied to our property, and every moment of it is pure joy. We’ve put much of the property into wildlife management practices, and the property is now one of the top birding sites in Maryland. Why travel when one already lives in heaven.

   With all these responsibilities, it has been impossible to get up for any of the reunions. My thoughts are always with you. Like many of you, my family must listen to all these stories of those summers on Otsego Lake, and they, of course, believe most of it is made up or at least exaggerated. You all know better. My last trip up there was in 1988 when our family had to pass by there so my children could see the stomping grounds of the one and only ageless William Clark. We will return again.

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