Remembering Otto Skinner
One of camp’s neighbors during the earlier years was Otto Skinner. His property bordered the northwest side of camp. Otto guessed he was related to the Skinner clan who in the 1800s lived on the property that is now Camp Deerpark, though he couldn’t tell you the direct lineage.
Otto passed away several years ago, but folks from camp who interacted with Otto remember him as a colorful character. He was a farmer and ran a saw mill.
“Otto kept pigs,” said Dale. “I remember he would drive about 20 miles to an Entenmann’s outlet to buy their baked goods. He would buy boxes and boxes of pastries. Otto mixed the pies, cakes and donuts with milk and would then put the mixture in a big trough for the pigs to enjoy.” One year, around 1980, Dale bought two pigs from Otto for camp. “We raised them at camp, and then had them butchered,” Dale said. “We had many delicious pork dishes that summer.”
Jim said, “It didn’t make any sense to me that he would milk the eight cows that he owned and then carry the milk over to the pig pen and give the milk to the pigs! The milk was mixed with all of the bakery products of course.”
“When Jerry and I think of Otto Skinner,” said Leonor, “we remember the pork roasts we had at camp, courtesy of Otto’s pigs. The pork had a unique sweet taste and you really didn’t need to add barbecue sauce to enjoy one of those delectable sandwiches. You can imagine how this taste came about. We could taste Entenmann’s Crumb Cake in every bite.”
“Quite often, one of Otto’s cows would come wandering through the woods on one of our trails to the main house at the camp. It was always a pleasant sight and sound as the cow typically had a bell tied around its neck. Those cows presented as Otto’s farm appeared—some-what disheveled but nonchalant. They were good hikers, however, and could always find their way to someone who could help them.” Jim said, “I first met Otto in 1978 when I drove the old Ford tractor and the red wagon up Brandt Road. I cut through the woods on a lane that went all the way to Otto’s to pick up some lumber for a project at camp. That was the first of many trips that I made to the Skinner farm. I remember being impressed with the simple way of life that Otto and his wife, Kate, lived and how content they both were. I would often ask Otto for some advice about life and he always had time to talk. I still treasure the evenings I spent in their kitchen.”
“I remember a quote of Otto’s: “What the eye hasn’t seen the heart doesn’t crave.” I have no idea if he’s the originator of that quote, but it’s the first time I heard it and I never forgot it. There is a certain wisdom that comes from eking out a living on the top of a mountain and I was honored when Otto and Kate would share some of it with me.
“I remember taking him some Pennsylvania Dutch style venison bologna, hoping he would enjoy it as much as I did. The next time I saw him asked him if he liked it. My heart sank when he said, kind of disgusted-like, ‘My dog wouldn’t eat it.’ But then with that Otto twinkle in his eye, he quickly added, ‘Because I wouldn’t give him any!’ We both laughed.”
“Before I left camp in 1984,” Jim continued, “I made one last trip over to the Skinners to purchase some eastern white pine lumber that I loved so much. I wanted to take a nice pile back to Pennsylvania with me. When I reached into my pocket to pay for it Otto stopped me and simply said, ‘It’s already paid for.’ That was another quote I’ll never forget and one I like to use!”
“As I near the age that Otto and Kate were when I lived at camp, they often come to mind as I relate to young people now who come to me with questions. Otto and Kate will never know how much they influenced me.”
—Written by Donna Stoltzfus, former camper and staff
.Jim Baer, volunteer at camp from 1977–78, returned to work at camp with wife Valerie from 1981–83.
Leonor Kennell, co-assistant director 1975–77, co-director 1977–78, attended Glad Tidings Mennonite Church in the Bronx.
Dale Stoltzfus, first director of camp, attended Glad Tidings Mennonite Church in the Bronx.