It was like entering my own personal Holy of Holies.
That was how I felt this past weekend, as I visited the URJ Camp Eisner in Great Barrington, Massachusetts. The occasion: the wedding of the son of beloved friends, who themselves have become like family.
But, on a deeper level, it was an act of return for me — to a place that has been part of my family's Jewish story for almost fifty years. I was a camper at Eisner, a staff member (doing almost every conceivable job, from waiter to dish washer to counselor to song leader to unit head). My own sons would go on to attend camp there, and to become staff members.