With
passion for people, son takes over Monroe institution
By Chris McKenna
The Times Herald-Record
cmckenna@th-record.com
July 08, 2002
Monroe The guy who just started running Rosmarins Cottages
and Day Camp is a familiar face to the people lounging in front
of the tree-shaded bungalows, playing handball and strolling to
the pool. Some even remember Scott Rosmarin when he was a tot,
because they've been coming for 40 years or more. Rosmarin is
45 now and married, and his children are running around the same
camp with the grandkids of some longtime bungalow dwellers.
This is where Rosmarin grew up, and he's doing now what he intended
to do. In November, he quit his commodities-trading job in New
York City to take responsibility for running the camp and bungalow
colony, a family business since 1941.
His father, Marty, who took over the business from his father
in 1954, has relinquished the operational duties to Scott, but
still helps with chores. "I took the truck to have it inspected
brainteasers like that," he joked recently.
He was sitting on a bench in front of the house beside School
Road where he and his wife, Belle, raised their four children.
The business is run from an office inside the house. Camp workers
stroll through the office into Marty and Belle's kitchen to warm
their lunches and eat a taste of the strong family atmosphere
at Rosmarins.
It's been a good career, with no regrets or second thoughts, Marty
Rosmarin said. "It was something I always believed in. I
met some very nice people." He added, "Money was OK.
It wasn't stupendous." His blue eyes watered as he talked
about his son taking over. "Now I know how my father must
have felt when I took over," he said. A long pause as he
collected himself. "It's nice to feel he thought enough of
this place to want to continue it."
His son said he always wanted to "live a life like my dad
did."
"It's very rewarding," he said. "It gives me a
good feeling of satisfaction."
The sense of community was palpable last week as Scott navigated
a golf cart past the 98 bungalows, greeting residents. Some have
become so close to the Rosmarins that they go to each others'
family weddings and bar mitzvahs.
"It's the perfect way of life," Rosalinda Lazarus said,
sitting at a patio table with her husband, Ted, and daughter,
Kara. Their family has been fleeing Queens for Rosmarins every
summer for 20 years. "You only wish it would be warmer for
longer."
Everybody looks after everybody else here. "A child gets
hurt, 100 mothers come running," Lazarus said.
Manny and Lila Molho have been coming since 1959, except for a
two-year period when they thought they'd try spending summers
at their new home in Westbury, Conn. They soon thought better
of it.
"I come back because I know all the people and I still like
the facilities," Manny Molho said. "We've had some unbelievable
times here." And at roughly $400 a week, it's still an inexpensive
place to spend the summer, he added.
There are usually more than 400 campers between ages 3 and 13,
perhaps 50 of them the children of bungalow residents, and the
rest from Orange County families. The camp has around 100 staff
members, Scott Rosmarin said.
This year, the camp invited local families who lost a parent on
Sept. 11 to send their children to the camp for free. Scott looked
at newspaper clippings and called the families themselves. Four
widows accepted, and eight children altogether are attending the
camp, which began July 1.
"It was a wonderful offer," said Liz Hamilton of Washingtonville,
whose firefighter husband Robert, 43, died at the World Trade
Center. Their two children, ages 12 and 8, are going to the camp.
"They are thoroughly enjoying it," Hamilton said.
Running the camp and bungalow colony is now Scott Rosmarin's full-time
job, one that goes seven days a week during summer and continues
long after the bungalows empty out around Labor Day. He and his
wife, Stacey, a Monroe pediatrician, have built a brick house
just outside the 110 acres of camp and bungalow property.
Scott said he'll be running the family business for the foreseeable
future.
"Hopefully, my son'll run it some day," he said. "That's
my fantasy."
