As we gather to celebrate Dick’s 80th birthday and reflect on the profound impact he has had on so many lives, I find myself recalling one of his most significant contributions: the role he played in welcoming young women to Camp Wabun and the countless lives that have been changed because of it.
My journey as a camper at Wabun began in 1977, the inaugural year of girls at Wabun. There were only five of us, determined to blaze new portages through the wilderness and, in some ways, within the traditions of Wabun itself. Wabun taught me resilience and perseverance, lessons that have stayed with me throughout my life, reminding me that I can push forward despite the challenges ahead.
In 1981, when I was 18, I embarked on my first Long Trip. My wannigan, packed to the brim, weighed more than I did as we left Garden Island. That summer, our adventure began with a train ride to our starting location. Dick had arranged to meet us in Savant Lake with the van and trailer. It was 3 a.m. when we stepped off the train, clutching our last remaining bread bag of sandwiches, only to be greeted by a very enthusiastic Dick Lewis—perhaps it was the coffee, but he was practically buzzing with energy.
We slept in the parking lot that night, waiting for the first light of dawn to begin our journey. Once the sun was up, Dick expertly backed the van and trailer down a narrow, single-lane dirt road until we reached the train tracks—this was the beginning of the first Long Trip for the girls of Wabun. With nerves running high, two of my section mates helped hoist my wannigan onto my back, and I found myself standing before the tracks, apprehension settling over me.
I remember I lifted my right foot, and my left leg started to shake. I placed that foot down and lifted my left foot, and the right leg started to shake, uncertain if I had the strength to carry on. Dick was there standing by the tracks, his pride in us unmistakable. He wasn’t just making sure the track was clear; he was ensuring we knew the trail ahead was ours to take. In my moment of doubt, he extended his hand, and I held onto it as I stepped over those tracks, marking the start of that transformative trip. I never looked back, and as I walked into six weeks of wilderness adventure, I carried with me the strength of that moment—helped by Dick’s steady hand.
Out of all my experiences at Camp Wabun, this memory has stayed with me. It’s a reminder of how one small gesture can change the course of a life. It allowed me to forge new trails and face the future with confidence.
So, here’s to you, Dick Lewis, and to the many lives you’ve touched with your kindness, leadership, and unwavering support. You have helped so many of us take the next step in our journeys, and your legacy lives on in every trail we continue to blaze.
