Family bonding at Riveredge

Oh, how I do remember this lovely little home away from home. My family & I came from Milford, CT, just an hour or so from where we lived. Most people thought we were nuts to take a vacation so nearby. Little did they know how delightful it was to arrive not exhausted or fighting with the kids &/or spouse after miles & miles on the road, to be greeted by the friendly faces of Art & Olga Donnellan.

I first found the resort in an ad in the NY Times (when it was obviously much cheaper to advertise) and thought why not? We'd been to Mystic. How about a leisurely jaunt up I-95, skip over to Rte 9 & wend our way up to Moodus??

I sent a check to the resort well in advance of our arrival & on a lovely Saturday afternoon slowly drove our car (a 1969 Oldsmobile) along the gravely dirt road to the resort. We parked near the "office" (just a small room off the kitchen area, where we learned later that Olga would work her culinary magic) and proceeded to check in.

Olga looked & looked and could not find any evidence of our prepayment. But being the jolly, wonderful woman that she was, she said, "Don't worry. We have a nice little cabin available for you and your daughters!"

A young fellow named Mike led us to our accommodations and we were thrilled. A room for my husband & me, and another for our two girls, plus a sparkling clean bathroom, all just feet away from the Salmon River!

The next week consisted of three meals a day, pool games, river boat rides, tennis, archery, evening bonfires (with Art telling stories & serving up way too salty ears of corn), no TV, no radio. Our family actually bonded rather well.

Our first morning's breakfast was one of pancakes, French toast, bacon, sausage & toast, plus eggs over easy for my husband. He said that the eggs were too hard to cut. I looked at him with eyes somewhat squinty and said "What do you mean, you can't cut your eggs??? " I took a knife & tried sawing at the yolks myself. Nothing. We then saw several young folks in the kitchen laughing -- my husband had been given rubber eggs!! We knew then that Donnellans was our kind of place.

We went back for another year, this time booking a cabin right on the river. Our youngest daughter often went off by herself to a little area loaded with wildflowers and called it the "Lands of Love."

We truly miss the camaraderie, kindness and just good old fashioned family togetherness that we found at Donnellans.

--Holly Shore

Happiest childhood times at Banner Lodge

The happiest times of my childhood were spent at Banner Lodge. Remember "Dancing Harry"? I'm sure he's probably not with us anymore but I’ll always remember him along with the coffee shop, the old but yet very fun gameroom, the leaky rowboats and the time we helped Buddy Epsen push his golf cart that had died. Everytime I see him on TV it brings me back to the memories.

I look forward to seeing your photos posted on your great website. I really hope one is an old brochure. If only there was real interest in restoring that place to what it was. You couldn't find a better vacation, it was like home away from home. Thanks for letting me relive a very missed part of my childhood, it really means a lot to me. Thank you.

--Joe Arbini

A local sensation ...

What a shock to find Moodus on the internet! Almost as much of a shock as when I came home for my first visit to Moodus from Florida, and the main street was gone!!
Anyway, I never spent time at a Moodus resort, but I did live across the street from Orchard Mansion. Also the class of '45 from Nathan Hale-Ray school had Miss Sullivan for our 5th grade teacher, and she later married Mr. Banner of Banner Lodge. That marriage caused a sensation as she was Catholic and he was Jewish. (gossip).

Good luck, and I do enjoy your web site.
--Priscilla Cornwell

Childhood adventures at Cave Hill

Last week, while having lunch with some co-workers, one of them mentioned Gillette's Castle. When I heard him say he had taken his family there and how it had been restored, I laughed out loud and told everyone sitting at my table that I had been there so much as a child, I could give tours. From there the conversation lead to my remembering the wonderful summers I spent with my mother and father at Cave Hill Camp.

My husband and I were having Sunday dinner with my parents and I told them about my lunchtime conversation, and the three of us were off and running! If my memory serves me correctly, we began our yearly excursions to Moodus in 1964. I was four years old. From the stories my mother told me, she wrote away to the tourist department in Hartford and she was sent some information, one brochure being from Cave Hill. So began our eight year trek to Moodus. Now, we were only from Fairfield county, but when you are four, Moodus could have been the other side of the world. I don't remember too much about the first few years, only that it was fun. As I got older though, my memories of those trips are more vivid.
As we drove in our car, the first sign where my excite began to build was crossing the bridge in Middletown. I knew at that point we were close. I had memorized landmarks and billboards to aid in my mapping our way to Moodus. I knew we were there, when I would see the Pegasus sign from the Mobil Gas station in all its red and white glory. Cave Hill was right across the street!

Cave Hill for me was waiting for friends I had made that would vacation the same week we would. I had made one really good friend, Michelle. For years we wrote letters back and forth in between our trips to Moodus. But, as so often happens, as we got older and the trips to Moodus ended, we lost touch.

I remember coming into the dining hall on the Saturday we arrived and looking for our name written on the table in chalk. That was our spot for the week. I remember being summoned to the dining hall for meals or to assemble for excursions to local attractions with that bell. But, the bell that brought joy during the week, also made me sad, as it was sounded as we left Cave Hill not to return for another year. I never realized that summer day in 1972, it would be the last time I would hear its tone.

We did so many things. They would have a get together in the Rec Hall and there were be a talent show, with the little kids being some sort of frogs jumping into a pond. Hey, it was a long time ago! I know my mother has pages in a photo album somewhere of me year after year as a frog! The rec hall was cool. It had a squeaky door, a ten-cent juke box, and two ten-cent pinball machines. Just recently, I played pinball and I had to shell out fifty cents! My, how times have changed. There was the pool, the lake with its peddle boats and there were always trips to somewhere to see something. They would announce those trips during breakfast and everyone was brought to attention when they would ring a cowbell. I also remember the day trips; especially to the Perfume Factory. For the life of me, I can't remember the name of the place, but I can tell you what it looked like, inside and out!

Cave Hill had great food and plenty of it and they made the best iced tea. One night during the week, they would have a big barbeque. Cave Hill may not have been the fanciest, but I wouldn't trade the times we spent there for all the white linen napkins in the world! My parents talked about the family that owned Cave Hill and how nice they all were. We wondered at dinner yesterday how they all were.

Call me crazy or overly sentimental, but I am glad for my family and for the summers we spent at Cave Hill.

If anyone from Cave Hill reads this, my name is Vicki Curiale Beermuender. I am the daughter of Joe and Pat. I hate to sound cliche, but thanks for the memories!!!