It’s August 7, 2025 — which, for some, signals the final stretch of summer. Football season is on the horizon, apple cider and flannel are making their return, and school is right around the corner. But for those of us at Tamarack Camps, today marks something far more poignant: the last full day of camp. This bittersweet moment is steeped in tradition and stirs a deep mix of emotions — gratitude, joy, sorrow, contentment, anxiety, nostalgia and anticipation.
For me, it holds even greater significance than most…
In 1962, my grandfather, Dr. George Blum, first stepped foot in Brighton as the camp physician. A pediatrician by training, he was perfectly suited to care for the everyday bumps, scrapes and fevers that camp brings. What he didn’t know then was that his summer would spark a multigenerational legacy of campers, staff and healthcare providers at Tamarack Camps.
In 1982, his daughter — my mom, Kathi (Blum) Moss — worked as a camp nurse. That summer, she met David Moss — my dad — a Specialty staff member. They had their first “date” in the back of an ambulance, thanks to some classic machismo from the Special-T guy. She returned to Camp Maas in 1991 as a very pregnant nurse, and since then, she hasn’t missed a summer. That’s 34 consecutive years providing equal parts Band-Aids, cough drops, popsicles and hugs.
My own journey began as a staff kid. I did nearly every program at Camp Maas, followed by a summer at Charles N. Agree Outpost Camp. My camper years culminated at Camp Kennedy in 2006 — a summer that proved to be one of the most influential of my life. As a first-session camper, I had no idea that my future wife was experiencing her own parallel universe during second session.
I returned as a staff member, working at both Agree and Kennedy. In 2011, I was lucky enough to lead a Western Trip, where I met my wife, Jackie Pilcowitz. After many travels inspired by our time with Tamarack, we each later had the privilege of leading separate Alaska Trips, capping our staffing careers in classic Tamarack fashion.
Fast forward to 2023: I returned to Ortonville as Dr. Henry Moss, a physician caring for the campers and staff of this exceptional mishpacha (family). This summer, in 2025, I returned with Jackie and our 14-month-old son, Albie — and I now get to experience the magic of camp again, through the eyes of my child, working alongside my mom in the clinic.
Tamarack’s impact on our family is profound. Our presence here represents four generations of Blums, three generations of healthcare providers, three generations of Mosses and three generations of Cane/Pilcowitzes. In recognition of that, Jackie’s parents, Phyllis and Bob, made possible the creation of a new medical staff lodge — a space that has become a true home for doctors, nurses and their families. We cannot thank the Pilcowitz family enough for this generous gift.
The person I am today — an emergency physician, an outdoorsman, a friend, a son, a husband, a father — was shaped by my summers at Tamarack. It’s impossible to fully capture the feeling of camp. But what I can say is this: watching Albie stumble toward the lake, chased by a gaggle of staff kids, makes my heart feel whole.
If I had to sum it all up, I’m drawn to a simple, enduring phrase:
L’dor V’dor.
From generation to generation.
