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1 8 WWW.UNWLA.ORG “НАШЕ ЖИТТЯ”, ЧЕРВЕНЬ 2018 three seconds. The saddle had not been secured properly and started sliding sideways across the pony’s back. I slid along with it, and a few seconds later found myself dumped in a heap under the pony’s belly . I have never again attempted to get on a horse of any size or color (with the exception of the carved wooden horses on a carousel). Entwined with these memories is the image of a bust of Oleh Olzhyc h, the person in whose honor the oселя was named. As a child I had no clue about (and frankly not much interest in) Oleh Olzhych . I had heard of him in Ukrainian school and/or at one of the numerous hromada akademiyi we all went to , but had never quite connected the history lesson with my experiences in Lehigh ton . In truth, the first time I saw the monument was during a visit to the oселя several decades after my camp experiences. I was spending the day hanging out at the new swimming pool with an old friend, and it was while meandering through my old stomping grounds that I came across the sculpted bust of Olzhych and stopped to read the information on the plaque. And s omewhere among all of these physical and mental landmarks I recall a conversation with another ex - camper who had once explained to me that Oleh Olzhych was “a poet, patriot, and martyr.” Older and hopefully wiser, I now know more than I knew then, including many more details about the life and death and legacy of Oleh Olzhych. One of the things I have recently learned is that the monu- ment honorin g Olzhych was installed in 1976 and is the only one in the world. I have also learned that there are tentative plans to erect a monument honoring Olzhych in Ukraine. − tsc ______________________________________________________________ Life at the Oselia : Four Generations and Counting by Irena Gramiak At the foot of the Pocono Mountains in Pennsylvania, hidden in plain sight just outside the town of Lehighton, is a Ukrainian oselia . The big official name for the place is The Ukrainian Homestead of CEC ODWU, Inc. I simply call it "Home." It may not be as well - known as some other Ukrainian resorts in the United States, but for those of us who grew up there, it is a special place like no other. My grandparents bought a house right across the street from th e original homestead in the 1970s. When the homestead expanded, it put the house right in the middle of the oselia. Other kids used to say that they lived in Phila- delphia and spent summers in Lehighton. I always said I lived in Lehighton but went to school in Phila- delphia. Almost every childhood memory I have revolves around the oselia. We would spend the entire summer and many weekends throughout the year there, including e very Christmas and Easter . Even today, each time we drive up, it still feels like I' m coming home. This is not an exaggeration. The oselia is and has always been a huge part of my life. As I walk around , every inch of the place is a memory to me — from catching frogs in the stream and spending all day swimming in the pool to learning how to drive and park in the field . I even g ot married in the chapel on the oselia grounds. Growing up, what I loved most was the freedom the oselia gave us. In Philadelphia we were not allowed to go anywhere by ourselves, but at the oselia we were free to roam and explore. My mom could see most parts of the oselia from our porch and could hear almost everything we said (which is something I did not know as a teenager and therefore was always shocked as to how my mom knew of our plans). All summer long we would wake up early and prepare for our “day of adventure.” All the Ukrainian kids in the area would meet at my house since it was right there at the oselia. We would pack up our things as if we were leaving home for a month : s ports equipment, beach towels, wate r bottles and of course our candy stash that we were permitted to buy on Fridays at the farmers market in town. Having collected our gear, we said goodbye to my mom and headed for the tennis courts. There we had a morning of endless po ssibilities. Sports, hide and seek, jump rope, friendship bracelets and daisy wreaths. If we got hot we simply walked down the hill to the pool where a whole other set of games would begin. Though my mom could see us, we could not see her, and this made us feel like grown up teenagers. Eventually my mom and all the other moms would come meet us at the pool. After swimming we would go to our respective homes for dinner and then meet back at the oselia for more evening fun. Catching fire flies and telling sca ry stories would eventually come to an end so that we could go to sleep, wake up , and do it all over again.
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