Love and an Adirondack chair

When Alley and I moved into our home in Vermont, our new neighbors came to say hello. We all sat around a fire pit in our yard and shared stories.

“These chairs are so comfortable. Did you build them?”

DAVE: I did. And there’s a good story behind these chairs. In fact, I started a business because of them.

ALLEY: Dave and I met at summer camp as adults.

D: We had been campers in the 60s and 70s at Sangamon and Betsey Cox, brother/sister camps about twenty minutes from here in Pittsford; we missed each other by a year. Thirty years later, both of us were going through unhappy divorces, and we sort of found each other.

A: What I thought was a summer romance turned into a marriage and happy life together, first as teachers in NYC. Now, as retired folks here in VT.

D: Not your typical retirees, we don’t play golf, don’t play bridge.

A: We still work with kids at camp. I teach ceramics. He’s in the woodshop.

D: Like the old days.

A: Anyway, the summer after we met, I went back to my teaching job in NYC with my two children. Dave went back to living in Western Massachusetts and his job as a studio manager.

D: We continued to see each other, though, taking turns commuting. Our 2nd or 3rd summer at camp I built a cabin for us to live in.

A: It was sweet. Not very big, but enough for us.

D: I wanted to give Alley something nice for her birthday. A few weeks before camp started, I went to Home Depot to buy a blade for my circular saw. As luck would have it, the blade came with a set of plans to build an Adirondack chair. I got some red cedar and built two chairs. I had no idea the impact those chairs would have.

A: He didn’t say anything about them. When I got up to camp in June, there they were on the deck of our new cabin.

D: I know now that she’s not big into surprises…

A: But this one worked out. It was incredibly thoughtful.

D: Anyway, that summer, there was some pressure-treated wood left over from a project I did in the spring, building a new porch on the main house. I got some campers to help me make a couple more Adirondack chairs and put them on the porch.

A: It was really nice to see kids sitting in the chairs and perched on the arms.

D: More campers wanted to build chairs, too. There was still some material, so we made two more. I had them sign the bottom of the chairs they worked on. As those campers returned the following year (and for years to come), they could find “their” chair.

A: My older son, Justin, has his name on a set of stairs he built with Dave our first summer.

D: That was just the beginning. Now kids wanted to take home a chair at the end of the summer. We’re talking about a big chair that weighs fifty pounds. The last thing a parent needed was to pick up their child at the end of the summer and discover a chair had to fit in, or most likely on top of, their car.

A: And they weren’t cheap either.

D: The materials cost $100.  

A: That was in 1996.

D: More like $250 today. Anyway, camp couldn’t afford that, so I took names and called home for permission.

A: No parent wants to get a call from their kids’ camp in the middle of the summer. It’s never good.

D: I’d start with, “Your-son-is-fine-there-is-nothing-the-matter.” Like it was all one word. “I run the woodshop program here, and your son signed up to build an Adirondack chair. I’m calling to make sure you’re ok with it.” So far, so good. “It’s full-sized and built to last. Also, you’ll need to cover the cost. Lastly, it’s big. I wanted to make sure you’ll be able to get it home.”

A: Some days it was like they were running a chair factory in the woodshop.

D: That summer, I think we built 20 or 30 chairs. Parents were speechless when they arrived at the end of the summer. They didn’t expect such high quality.

A: The chairs on the porch stood up to the boys’ use for years.

D: At the end of every summer, after the campers left, the staff gathered for a last dinner together. Toward the end of the meal, the assistant director pulled out some notes and spoke about the summer. He went around the room, highlighting some aspect of each staffer's contribution to camp that summer. It was a wonderful way to acknowledge everyone’s hard work.

A: The thing I remember is the big shootout to see who had to do the dishes. Ugh!

D: You ended up in the dish room like three years in a row. Anyway, he got around to me. “Dave, I really didn’t get what you were doing in the woodshop this summer.”

A: This isn’t what you want to hear about your program.

D: “I was shocked when I saw the amount of materials you went through. Woodshop was the most expensive program at camp.” These are the first and only negative comments about anyone.

A: I remember someone whispering to me, “Ouch.”

D: I felt so uncomfortable. I mean, in front of everybody like that?!? Anyway, he went on. “It wasn’t until the parents picked up their boys that I understood. The chairs were beautiful. And it was impressive to see them all lined up in front of the barn with each kid sitting in their own chair.” I breathed a little easier.

“Some of the parents told me how happy they were to have such a wonderful reminder of camp. Other parents asked me when their son could make a chair.” He looked at his notes again. “And when I dug into the numbers, none of those chairs cost us a nickel. What you’ve done has created such goodwill. Thank you for all the hard work you put into it.”

A: Yeah, but I still had to do the dishes!!

D: So, fast forward to 2022. Sangamon celebrated its 100th anniversary. People showed up the week after camp ended. I saw old cabin mates and counselors. And tons of former campers.

A: It was really wonderful to see so many familiar faces.

D: You remember Robby? He told me about his family and the young children he now had. “Check this out,” he said and took out his phone. “That’s my son, sitting in the chair I built with you in ’97. He was amazed that I had made it and wants to make his own someday.”

A: It’s incredible how camp memories stick with you.

D: What started as a gift to Alley had grown into a gift to my camp community. The joy and pride that so many campers experienced building their own chairs was amplified when their parents realized the full measure of what they had created. For some, like Robby, that feeling had not diminished, even 25 years later.

A: That was something all right. And the chairs we’re sitting in now are the same design.

We sat watching the embers from the fire drift upward until one of the neighbors said, “I think it’s amazing that a simple act of kindness thirty years ago has led you to a new life…and to us.