Dear Mom Dad & Bill, Joan^? [Undated, but likely summer 1970. September 18, 1970 letter refers to how Mike finds himself writing home more from shcool than he had written from camp.]

I'm back in my cabin. It's night. Everybody's running around. Taking a boy to the hospital (to check a possible broken finger). Everybody's mad; at the situation being brought on by all these kids. They are brats. Yeah. But I can't understand it. I'm sitting here real cool and everybody's running around. I did almost blow up today when Mr. Shellenberger told us at the staff table to eat slower (mind our manners and be a better example for the kids). Who the hell ^{(excuse me but it helps)} does he think he is. Everybody's getting kind of mad. 

What is wrong with eating, and getting it over with. He doesn't understand. There are lots of factors. Maybe we eat less or maybe we don't take as much while eating.

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I don't know if I want to come home. See we may have off this weekend but I'd rather stay here. Maybe next weekend I'll come home. I'll usually be off on weekends so you can come up any weekend (usually Sat. Friday evening or Sunday before 4:00). You can come up any other time too really.

Love,

Mike