Behind the Plaque

e h t d n i h e B e u q a l P

R o s e n H o d e s a L i s B y

There were 3 absolute truths about the end of each of my Eisner summers in the 1990’ s. First, knowing that I would return to my home in South Florida, which was light years away from my friends in the Northeast, was tortuous. Tears flooded my eyes during those last few days because it would be almost a year before I saw or heard my friends ’ voices again. After all, I wasn ’t allowed to make long distance calls - too expensive - and the internet didn ’t exist for us. My only contact with them would be the exchange of letters and mix tapes.

The second absolute truth was that I would graffiti my name everywhere. “Lisa Hodes wuz here in 1993. ” No camp facility went untouched. I don ’t know why I did this other than everybody else seemed to do it before me. (I’ m looking at you, Jonathan Lurie, who is now, coincidentally, my cousin through marriage.)

Finally, I needed to make plaques. Lots and lots of plaques. It could be challenging to find the wood and paint, settle on a design, try not to screw up the design on the first try, and then get Maintenance to put it in a desirable location in the Tzofim Beit Am. But it was thrilling to see my plaque occupy prime real estate on the wall. The idea was to show it off, but also be able to find it again in subsequent years.

In the summer of 1993, there was a fourth absolute truth: Brian Stone and I would make a plaque together. And it was obvious what it would say:

“We smile because we have no idea what’ s going on. ”

We ’ ve been repeating that quote for so many years it’ s hard to remember the origin. My recollection is that my best friend at the time had a pin with that quote. She brought it to camp that summer because it reminded her of me.

“Isn ’t that insulting?” Stacy, my younger sister, asked.

“Not at all, ” I responded. It was perfect.

As you know, Eisner is full of smiling campers. But Brian and I were ALWAYS smiling, even when things went awry. Get caught raiding and receive early morning toranut? We ’d arrive smiling and happy to be there. Limud a little extra dry that day? We were still happy to participate. We carried an inexplicable joy to every encounter and activity. I shared the quote with Brian, and it quickly became our punchline and brand. It rightly deserved a plaque.

We agreed to keep the plaque basic mostly because neither of us is artistic. Our names, the year, a smiley face - some simplicity, and some silliness. Exactly as the quote suggests.

(It is also important to note that we invented the smiley face emoji. I will die on this hill.)

It’ s now many decades later (thirty years to be exact), and it’ s not surprising that our plaque, like our friendship, has endured. In early December I attended Talya Stone ’ s bat mitzvah (Talya, daughter of Brian and Leah Stone, née Mendelsohn). Brian and I greeted each other with our trademark toothy grins and laughter. We watched as his daughter and her friends took the dance floor, acting out synchronized dances they know from Tik Tok.

And we stood there watching and smiling … because we had no idea what was going on.

Lisa and Brian, 2022