The Unknown Gentleman
By Bruno Morawetz
Director, Camp Ponacka
In my daily drive to the University I am faced with the difficult task of entering the long line of traffic pressing south on Toronto’s busy Avenue Road. My plight is made more difficult by having to do so from a left turn. With the native impatience of a city dweller I see care after car sticking to the bumper immediately in front, but sooner or later some unknown person brings his care to a halt. In the fluster of looking left and right I just manage to wave my finger as a sign of gratitude.
A few days ago in that exact situation a great sense of relief came over me as I remembered something we had done at camp during last summer. I could not help but explain to my colleague beside me that we had established a memorial to men of this kind and that my inadequate waving of the finger was slightly compensated by our ceremony honouring the “unknown gentleman”.
The whole idea came to me as I took two days from my usual activity as camp director – while my program director took full charge (standards committee, please note!). I highly recommend this practice, for it gives one the detachment needed for evaluating one’s camp. To this some will retort that you can get the detachment once camp is over, but I think that the experience of “closing day” severely hampers one’s appraisal. In any case, this was one of the many ideas that came to me during my days off and I have no doubt that the idea was stimulated by the institution of the “unknown soldier”.
When I first thought about it I was strongly tempted to immortalize the “unknown camper”, the person who has thoughtfully left a good supply of wood at the campsite, or the person who went to the trouble of removing a dangerous piece of glass from that shallow area while paddling over it or removed a creeping root from the portage. But then it occurred to me that campers are in a city environment for ten to eleven months of the year and that the category of “gentleman” embraces the gentlemanly camper, so I settled for the name, “The Unknown Gentleman”. It is noble to help our fellowmen but it is even nobler to do so when neither praise nor gratitude can be expressed to the benefactor. I felt that a tangible monument might remind a boy that he, too, can, on many occasions, play the unknown gentleman on his daily bus ride, toward his class mates, fellow campers, or the man with the white cane.
Upon my return to camp I used the first morning talk to explain my newly conceived idea. It was greeted with unexpected enthusiasm by staff and campers alike. During the same morning we hiked to the more remote parts of our woods to locate a place where a cairn could be established. We found a flat rock about four feet in height and twenty feet in circumference and decided to build our cairn beside this rock. We cleared the area, placed cedar posts around it to hold a long chain leaving one entrace. Other campers undertook to blase and clear the long, winding trail to the monument. Adrian Dingle, who happened to be staying with us, painted the words “To the Unknown Gentleman” on the rock which can be see from a great distance along the winding trail. Being on a slope, nature has provided a splendid amphitheater at the entrance to the enclosure.
Our first ceremony followed soon and was dignified and impressive. Each person in camp procured one stone. We assembled and proceeded along the long fresh path in complete silence. We took our seats on the ground in the natural amphitheater. I deposited the first stone citing Jesus as one who played the Unknown Gentleman all through His life. The staff proceeded with their stones. One counsellor deposited his stone calling to mind the many unknown Indian gentlemen who left nature unspoiled for us to enjoy. Another recounted a motoring incident on a lonely stretch of road in the far north. As each camper came forward, he was to think of an opportunity when he too could play the role of the unknown gentleman. One older boy, as he deposited his rock, spoke up spontaneously and recalled some assistance that had been rendered to his widowed mother by an unknown gentleman. After every person in camp thoughtfully and reverently set down his stone, we silently made our way back to camp.
Many boys said they would bring distinctive stones from their own districts for next year’s ceremony. If we succeed in keeping the ceremony meaningful and dignified we can look forward to an impressive cairn at Ponacka which will embody in tangible form the memories and resolutions of men of good will in all walks of life.
A fitting camp tradition? Yes! For it should be the mark of a good Canadian camper always to play the role of an “unknown gentleman”.