Coming of Age

August 27, 1978, Sunday, New Paltz, NY

It was early morning on a beautiful Sunday in late summer.

Conor borrowed his Mom’s Ford Fairmont and told his parents he was off to church, supposedly to the family’s Catholic Church for Sunday Mass. He didn’t let on, but he had no plans of going there.

Instead, Conor found a church west of town in the Shawangunk Mountains or “Gunks.” More a ridge than mountains, the Gunks are an outdoor paradise of rocky escarpments, sheer cliffs, waterfalls, and streams. Conor felt bad about lying. He hoped if they knew what he did and where he went, they might not condemn him to Purgatory.

Dwarf pines and mountain laurel brushed his legs as Conor followed the Trapps boulder path up to the summit. He chose different lookouts based on the proximity of nearby rock climbers. He wanted quiet seclusion, not the sound of pitons being tapped into rock.

The spot he chose was on top of a sheer cliff. Looking down several hundred feet below, the oak trees stretched out from the base of the rock wall. Their leaf canopy seemed like an unruly green shag carpet that would catch and cushion a fallen climber. Conor made a mental note to step carefully on his descent, to not challenge this notion.

There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and it was dry with extremely low humidity making for a sparkling view. The valley below was so clear the rolling hills, farm pastures, and wooded upland supplied a tapestry of distant textures. They seemed so vibrant, it was like you could reach out and run your hand over them. In the distance, the buildings in downtown New Paltz were shimmering in the morning sun.

He loved the morning serenity, and it was his time for spiritual enlightenment. Once settled in on a flat boulder, he looked out and reflected on life and how he fit in. He wondered about the future, what was ahead, and how he could shape it. To add color to his thoughts, he also brought a soprano recorder. He loved the tone and mostly played folk songs with a little Steely Dan or Chuck Mangione thrown in.

Today, he thought about his coming senior year in high school. Over the summer, he’d grown a lot and was now nearly six feet and had filled out to match. He let his hair grow to shoulder length, and it looked good. Conor stood out in a crowd with a curious gaze and a smile that lit up his face.

In school, he was well-liked and wasn’t part of any one group. The nerdy smart kids thought he was cool, the jocks liked the way he played soccer, the stoners saw him as a rebel, and the outcasts liked that he noticed them. It didn’t matter who you were, Conor treated everyone the same. After saying hello, he’d ask something, listen, and care what was said.

He rarely shared much about himself. Conor always questioned whether he was good enough and masked his insecurities with a “chill” exterior. It was perceived more as a quiet confidence, deep and thoughtful in a way that others noticed. He was smarter than most about many things and kept it to himself. He seemed mature beyond his years, yet the summer he just experienced took that to another level.

Conor landed a job that summer at a boy’s sleepaway camp as a counselor. It was the first time he was on his own away from home. Night and day he was in charge of eleven ten year old’s. It was challenging and fully stretched the “fake it until you make it” idea to the limit, and he thrived on the responsibility.

At 17, he was 4-5 years younger than the other counselors. Most were from England, and on nights off, they took him under their wing, and he got a glimpse of being a full-on adult. It was a heady time, and with New York’s 18-year-old drinking age, he looked old enough to join them in going to pubs, drinking pints, arguing politics, and sharing life’s dreams. The women counselors adored him yet being too young for them instead taught him how to treat a woman in and out of bed. It was a real education in so many ways.

Looking out to the valley below, Conor looked forward to his last year of high school. He’d always been shy around pretty girls and had doubts when confronted by overly confident guys. He thought about these types of classmates and laughed to himself when comparing them to the Brits he’d lived with that summer.

He smiled and thought about how things were going to be a bit different this coming year.