It was Saturday night, April 25, 2009, when the band Kinderhook’s rocking revival reunion with the campers from the 1970s took place. Like the rest of the crowd that filled the Ukrainian Cultural Center in Whippany, New Jersey, I anticipated a night of returning to my youth during the Plast Scout Camp years in East Chatham, New York, a stone’s throw from their namesake Kinderhook Creek. That night, Yuri and I met. Eye contact.
I was transported back in time to the 1970s. Back to the days of Vovcha Tropa – Wolf’s Trek, scouting life and camp activities, living with Nature (for some, it was whether you liked it or not), the starlit dome of summer nights, the bonfires searing the deep blue of sky vastness, the guitars strumming tunes we learned in the daytime and being treated to some original poetry in the lyrics. Oh, the singing that came out of those boys in their Boy Scout shirts and shorts. The harmonies! You always tried to find the spot where somehow you could make an encounter, an introduction, an accidental stumble, or eye contact. You can’t help but fall in love. Eye contact.
Exhale. That night, the band performed their magic, taking us back to a time long gone chronologically. However, in our heads and hearts, we still found those heart-and-soul kids before tumbling into the parallel world outside our diaspora of Ukrainian communities. The transition could be shocking, so having the sororities and fraternities who formed tight bonds became a safety net for people to attend these events. Come back to the garden comfort. Then there was that fateful day of one such massive get-together—a worldwide scouting jamboree—when Yuri heard music coming from the fields where cars parked wherever to make a camp. He sought the harmonious sounds and joined Andy and Jerry, singing Eagles tunes. Kismet.
I found the news article in The Ukrainian Weekly 2009. It was this weekend fifteen years ago. Who can forget Pontelemon Pupchik? This intrepid reporter, who hilariously interviewed the week-long participants, traveled across the country to attend the camp fundraiser. The entire evening brought out the thoughts, emotions, and memories that make us who we are, how we connect, how we are similar, how different, will be accepted for who we are, and how we turned out to be since our youthful breaking out of the proverbial Ukrainian immigrant shell that kept us safe and provided a base from where blast off into adulthood however you want to define it. Some didn’t launch. They didn’t grow up, but it’s different for everyone. Change is inevitable. It’s impossible not to change. Change is what makes us live and laugh, not always right away, but one of Yuri’s favorite quotes that he lived by is, “When enough time goes by, tragedy turns into comedy.” Alle to Komedia.
At the afterparty that night in the bar, Yuri and I made eye contact. At our age, there was no mistaken call and response. He called. I responded by walking over to introduce myself, but he already knew who I was. He got the details from whoever sat next to him. I swear, Yuri was always prepared like the Scout he remained for life, preparation that meets opportunity. I suggested we do a podcast. What’s a podcast? (It was 2009 when podcasting was not as easy as it is now). We had such a great conversation that I had to break it into two parts. His passion for making his original music went beyond what he felt he was able to do with Kinderhook. It was a different path that he explored, created, conquered, recorded, and, most of all, performed live. That was his passion and his life’s purpose.
I didn’t mind that he was married to his music, and I eventually married him, thus becoming the other woman. It was an immersive experience, and I will forever be grateful that he never discouraged my interest and, in appreciation, included me in his world and took me along for the ride. In the summer of August 2022, Yuri and I spent a weekend in Chatham, New York, visited the Village of Kinderhook, and found the Creek where it all began. He was very proud of the work Kinderhook produced and their accomplishments as one of the great Jersey bands of the 1970s. A plethora of his original work will forever be kindred to the band that still rocks on. And, it is ingrained in the various fortunate people who have experienced a genuine Yuri Turchyn performance. He always considered himself fortunate to perform for a live audience. That’s who he was. Killer eye contact.
