If you’d told me to look to the left then the right one shacharit during my Gesher summer of 2007 and said odds are one of those people will be at my 10-year reunion, I’d have told you to be quiet because it was the middle of tefillot. But then after putting my tefillin away, I would have called you meshuganah. But it’s true, nearly half of Gesher 2007 swam upstream like good gefitle fish back to our summer home.
Some came with stories of travel and trial and titles they’ve earned. Others hadn’t seen each other in a decade while some are still bunking together. A few came back married. But everyone recalled tales of the times we all shared, from that one messy meltzing mishap to a peulat erev that gave you a lifetime bond to the insanity of Yom Sport, for which I collected possibly every pine needle in Rabun County in order to build a winning fire (shoutout to my Yarok squad) to burn a piece of rope.
Nearly 40 Jews means approximately 128 different versions of the stories, but we were so happy to hear them all because they reminded us of our summer together. It was great to see each other, and it was a thrill having the surprise of our former camp director Rabbi Sykes all the way from the land of milk and honey and our rosh eidah Sarah Ossey along with other staff who are now running the joint.
Many people made the reunion possible, and we’re very thankful to all of them. Most importantly, todah rabah to everyone reading for helping make sure our home was still here to come back to, especially because it has a pizza oven now.
After the hugs goodbye, I left camp and headed straight to the airport to go on Birthright. And who else was there to check me into my El Al flight other than Matan Aharoni, a Gesher staff member of ours. Just like all of us at camp in the days before, Matan and I immediately picked up where we left off.
As we say in Gesher 2007: Side, side, up, down,
Ben Brasch
A professional writer (as you can tell)