I would love to hear about your memories of Camp Lenape/ Lenape Scout Reservation in Medford, NJ. I am always collecting old photos of the camp and anything about the history. I have been fortunate to meet many people who have helped me, and I have quite a collection. I would love to learn more about the names of the people listed on the old fireplace which still exists. I am interested in learning about Tomlinson, who dug out the old Cranberry Bogs and I believe Mimosa Lakes as well. The lake in the neighborhood of the former camp is called Wilderness Lake, but old maps show it as Cedar Run Lake. I am guessing that Jean Woodford saw those maps and named the Cedar Run Wildlife refuge after that, but I always think the refuge area as part of Braddock's Mill Pond.
Lots of wondering going on here......
Tomlinson above is Eph Tomlinson, an attorney who worked for many years in Camden, then moved his practice to him home office at 51 Union Street in Medford in the 1960s. Eph, who served as Medford's mayor for 12 years including in the 1970s, created Medford Development Corporation with my father and mother, Ernie and Mildred Bareuther in the 1950's to create the Mimosa Lakes Development. Ours was the first house built there and I understand it was completed just before I was born in August 1958. Old family albums show Eph on his tractor creating Mimosa's beach and working to carve out the former cranberry bogs as lakes. Eph also came up with the street names. For example, Pontiac Drive was named because at the time there was an old Pontiac there abandoned in the bushes. Eph also helped in the creation of Camp Lenape. Much of my early growing up years was spent playing house or other adventures in the wood frames of houses being built in the Mimosa Lakes development. A common sound in the summer, when all the windows were open, was of the builders start hammering at 7 a.m. My mother, Mildred Bareuther (formerly Bunning, who was born and raised on the Bunning Farm that is now the Dr. Still Historic Site and Educational Center) worked for Eph as a legal secretary since age 18 and her graduation from Mount Holly High School (no high schools in Medford back in the 1940s) until 5 weeks of her death from cancer in October 1980. Thus, Eph would often come up to our house in Mimosa when he was out for a cup of coffee. One of my most vivid memories was standing in our kitchen, Eph with coffee in hand, and hearing that Artie Lightfine had gone under the ice over off the beach on the Upper Lake in Mimosa. I was 9 then, in 4th grade. Eph went over, stripped to his undershirt and pants, threw off his artificial leg (he lost his leg at age 12 waiting for the train to school and his friends were fooling around and he was inadvertently pushed; he never let it hold him back), and dove in the water to try and find a then 8-year old Artie. I remember the red lights of the Taunton Fire Department truck arriving and one of those volunteers was Bob Lightfine, Artie's dad, who ran the gas station by Rips. Unfortunately, it wasn't until some 45 minutes later that divers were able to find and bring Artie's body to the beach. For several days, the golf bag Artie got for Christmas, than he had slung over his shoulder and ultimately weighted him down through the ice when he went to retrieve a golf ball, laid by the beach as a monument to the tragic event. We all saw it as we walked to the school bus stop each morning, which was on the street by the swing set at the Mimosa beach. Let me know if you need more....I lived in Mimosa from birth until age 19, when my parents sold the house and moved to Leisuretowne due to my mother being diagnosed with breast cancer in 1976. My father, Ernie, just passed away in October at age 92. We came up to see him just before he passed and we enjoyed one of my most favorite adventures: taking my 29 year old son and 26 year old daughter up for a drive around Mimosa. In some ways, it is very much the same was it was 60 years ago. In others, if feels completely different because I want to just stay and 'go home' but I can't. It's someone else's house now. Technically, I guess my son and daughter and I are trespassing (as the sign at the beach warns) when we stop and swing on the swings there for a few minutes. But something tells me they wouldn't mind our few minutes in exchange for a little history of where they now call home.