Read with Caution! Scary Story below!
“It was a dark and muggy night, just like tonight………”. That is how most of the bedtime stories began, that I told when I was a counselor at Camp Seneca Lake, many years ago. Derrick White and Neil Fisher were a couple of the more popular camp stories that I told. After many decades, these dynamic stories took on a life of their own. They have been passed on from generation-to-generation and have become a staple of Camp Seneca Lake folklore.
Telling stories to campers at CSL were some of my fondest memories as a counselor. One story I told stands out in my mind that I would like to share with you.
I recall I was assigned to tell stories during Shabbat Choice in the staff lounge next to Arts and Crafts. I don’t think anyone would have predicted that this would have a huge draw, but it was standing room only. I felt a great deal of pressure build as the campers walked in and waited with baited breath to hear a blockbuster story.
To create a scary ambiance, we covered the windows with the plywood sashes just enough to allow a small beam of light to enter the room…….the door was SLAMMED shut…and the story began……It was about a strange, mysterious man, who hung out at the duck shack down near CSL’s waterfront. He killed water fowl by cutting off their heads and nailed them to the wall of the duck shack by their webbed feet. He would sit and watch the blood drip….drip…..drip until all of the blood drained completely. The man I was describing was the infamous Derrick White.
One night while all the campers and staff were asleep, Derrick White wandered into camp looking for his next kill. He found the camp director’s dog that had been left unattended at the camp office near the staff parking lot. Derrick white quickly slit the dog’s throat, nailed its body to the office wall to let all the blood drip….drip……drip from its body. Derrick watched and waited to eat his next meal. (At this point in the story the younger campers wanted to hear more and the older ones were the ones screaming! Go figure!).
Derrick White waited all night for the dog’s blood to drain out. The sun was starting to rise and the camp’s care taker, Bill Disbrow unlocked the gate and drove down the road. He could not believe his eyes. There before him was the director’s dog hanging upside down with his blood dripping down the wall. He saw this strange looking man run into the woods. He was in total shock and was stunned by what he saw. His mind was racing. What should he do? Should he call the director, the camp nurse, the Yates County Police? Unsure of how he should precede,Bill decided to hide all evidence of this horrible crime before the campers and staff woke up. He removed the nails that were holding the dog to the wall, dragged the dog’s dead body into the back of his pick-up truck and covered it with a tarp. He returned to the office and vigorously tried to clean up the blood from the wall, but to no avail. Wanting to cover up the blood stain Bill quickly grabbed some paint from the maintenance shed and painted the wall.
The camp director woke up that morning to his phone ringing in his cabin on Retirement Hill. It was Bill Disbrow. He did not want to believe the bad news that he was receiving. He was in total shock and disbelief until he saw the nail holes in the wall where his dog had been hanging. Not wanting to alarm the campers and counselors that his dog was killed by an intruder, the camp director decided to tell everyone that the dog had passed away in his sleep. That was the story they stuck to. Everyone in camp was of course saddened by the loss.
The staff lounge full of campers went silent for a few seconds. As any story teller knows, there is always a skeptic or a “Debbie Doubter” in the audience who tries to poke holes and discredit the “facts” of a story. Sure enough, a young Seneca camper broke the silence and said, “I don’t think that is a true story!” Before I had a chance to respond, a Mohican, chimed in with confidence, “Why do you think the camp office is painted red???……TO MATCH THE COLOR OF THE BLOOD!” Duh!?!?!.
Moments like that, when the campers connect the dots on their own are truly priceless.
As an adult, I now think back about all of those outlandish camp stories I heard as a camper. The facts may not have always stacked up, but it didn’t matter. A part of me wanted to believe that they were true. The stories about Neil Fisher and Derrick White were a part of the fabric of my camping experience at CSL, my home away from home. It brought me such joy to pass on the stories I heard as a camper to the next generation. I trust that the storytelling tradition will continue for my children when they are at the ripe age to be a camper at CSL.
Harlan Brody
CSL Alum
