75 years later, we met under the trees

I asked you to meet me under the trees on Saturday, Oct. 10, 2026. And you came. From near and far, across generations, from different communities and different chapters in the history of Camp Haiastan, you came. Some returned to a place they hadn't visited in decades. Others had been there just weeks earlier. Some brought their children, and others reunited with the very people they had met as children. We came together to celebrate 75 years of Camp Haiastan. What we experienced was something much greater than an anniversary gala. It was magical. I have spent much of my life at Camp Haiastan, first as a camper, then as a counselor and now as a parent watching my own daughter begin her Camp journey. I have witnessed the friendships, the tears at the end of a session, the excitement of returning each summer and the pride that comes with belonging to something bigger than ourselves. I thought I understood what Camp Haiastan meant to our community. But seeing so many generations together, celebrating the same place for so many different reasons, reminded me that even after all these years, Camp Haiastan still has the power to surprise me. Under the tents set up on the familiar grounds of Camp Haiastan, I watched my Ungers and Ungerouhis dance the Tamzara and Papuri, indulge in delicious kebab and treats from Byblos Restaurant in Norwood Center and call back to their memories at camp together. There were people who hadn't seen one another in years, even decades. And yet, somehow, the passage of time seemed to disappear. The friendships that began in cabins, on athletic fields, around campfires and under the trees were as meaningful today as they had been all those summers ago. That is what Camp Haiastan does. It brings people together in ways that few places can. It creates connections that extend beyond the summer, beyond childhood and, in many cases, beyond our own lifetimes. Think about that. Seventy-five years of campers, counselors, staff, volunteers, parents and supporters. Thousands of individuals whose paths might never have crossed if not for a piece of land in Franklin, Massachusetts. And there we were, celebrating together. Celebrating members of our community who have gone above and beyond for Camp Haiastan over many years, Harry Kushigian and Mesrob Odian. Celebrating significant donations to our infrastructure made by the Manguikian Family Foundation, the Armenian Relief Society, the Foundation for Armenian Youth and the H. Hovnanian Family Foundation. All important in our organizational circles and all supporting the institution at 722 Summer St. in Franklin, Massachusetts. As I looked around, I couldn't help but think about the people who made this possible. Not just the committee members and volunteers who worked tirelessly to organize this extraordinary weekend, although they deserve our deepest gratitude. I thought about the individuals who, 75 years ago, believed that Armenian children in America needed a place where they could learn, grow, develop friendships and strengthen their connection to their heritage. They could not possibly have imagined every friendship that would be formed, every marriage that would result, every child who would someday follow a parent or grandparent through the gates of Camp Haiastan. But they believed in the importance of creating that opportunity. And 75 years later, we were standing on the very ground they worked so hard to preserve, celebrating the fruits of their labor. I wish they could have seen it. I wish they could have witnessed the stories told, the memories evoked, the video that was wonderfully produced to showcase years of activity and the overall happiness on the faces of all who wandered around the grounds and remembered days gone by and wonderful youthful memories and understood just how far their vision had reached. Most of all, I wish they could have seen the generations of Armenians who continue to love and support this place. Because that is the true measure of what they accomplished. The gala was a tremendous success. The weekend was filled with memories that will stay with us for years — the Friday night meetup, the Saturday morning Fun Run, the Sunday cleanup. But I hope we remember something beyond the weekend itself. Camp Haiastan does not exist simply because of what was built 75 years ago. It exists because every generation since has accepted the responsibility of keeping it alive. We inherited something extraordinary. And now it is our responsibility to make sure the next generation inherits it, too. As I watched the celebration unfold, I thought about my daughter and the children who will spend their summers at Camp Haiastan long after we are gone. They may never know all the names of the people who made this anniversary possible. They may never fully appreciate the work, the sacrifices or the countless hours volunteered to sustain this place. But someday, I hope they will return to Camp Haiastan with their own children and understand. They will understand why we gathered. Why we celebrated. And why we care so deeply about what happens on those 100 acres in Franklin. In August, I asked you to meet me under the trees. You did. And together, we created another memory in the remarkable history of Camp Haiastan. Today I also ask you to consider making a gift to Camp Haiastan. Your continued support of Camp helps us preserve our rich traditions, strengthen our programs, expand and improve our facilities, and ensure that future generations have the opportunity to experience all that Camp has to offer. To everyone who attended, volunteered, contributed, organized or supported this celebration, thank you. You helped make the 75th anniversary a weekend we will never forget. Now, let's make sure the next 75 years are just as meaningful.

75 years later, we met under the trees

This story is FREE for you...

Josh Tevekelian

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This story is FREE for you...

Josh Tevekelian

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