This is my first story prompted by Betsy Sarason’s memories of Interlochen (National Music Camp). My parents made me go there even though I liked my old camp, I loved it and they used to remind me “Aren’t you glad we made you go”. Of course my brother Johnny, a talented pianist, had gone there. I was the artist in the family so that was my “major” but I loved dance and operetta more. I loved the atmosphere, the friends I made, being an insider when outsiders from all over the country visited. I even loved the corduroy knickers and knee sox we wore (in the summer). My first year I met Cathy Jaffe, from Long Island, and we became lifelong friends. She would call me in Detroit and ask “Is Mawcy there” and we all knew it was her. She died in 911, which still is unbelievable. We had visited each other many times and had been together a few years before at an “Interlochen” reunion. Very special memories now. Who knew?