Jersey Shore Magazine

j e r s e y s h o r e • S p r i n g 2 0 1 8 69 Since canvas affords little privacy, tenters abide by a lot of rules, both official and unofficial. No pets are allowed. It's generally quiet after 10:00 PM. "For arguments, you have to go for a walk or drive in your car," jokes Bicknell. And since parking is an issue on weekends, and you lose your space if you leave, "you stay for the weekend [no matter what]," says Tom LeDuc. There is such a thing as "tent cred," jokes Gill, depending on such things as the number of generations you've had your tent and which room you sleep in. Once upon a time, true tenters slept in the front room, which is made of canvas. With the intro- duction of AC in some tents, many now sleep in the wooden back room. It's definitely a tight-knit commu- nity who help each other and share. And they all love their tents and realize they have something incredi- bly unique and special. Hutton talks of being given furniture when she took over her tent just four years ago. Wendy LeDuc talks of the patio table in the back "yard" as "very commu- nal" and Bicknell affirms: it's "like family here." continued on page 70 o one can deny that "tiny houses" are having their moment. A hipster trend, the focus of HGTV programs, and indeed its very own "movement," tiny homes today represent simplicity, efficiency, and flexibility. But for the 114 families who inhabit the roughly five hundred square foot canvas and wood tents surrounding the Great Auditorium in Ocean Grove every summer season, this lifestyle is hardly new or a trendy novelty. Since 1870, this community has come together as part of the Camp Meeting Association, a Methodist group who established Ocean Grove as a respite from the complexities of modern day life where "religion and recreation should go hand in hand" in a "magnificent" seaside location. Today, most "tenters" have occu- pied their charming cottages for at least forty years—and the majority for multiple generations. They have leases and pay rent (about $4,500. to $6,000. for the season according to one tenter) and, over the decades, the descendents have created incredible memories and abodes as distinct as thumbprints. At 2 Mt. Zion Way, sisters Carol Bicknell and Marilyn Gill grew up tenting with their grandparents, before air conditioning, showers, and fire retardant canvas. (It is said, the old canvas "breathed" more.) In 2010, they renovated with the idea of "glamping" (glamorous camping) and now have an astonishingly mod- ern tent with AC, heat, and a fully functional kitchen and bathroom. Yet just across the way at 12 Mt. Zion, Gail Hutton still lives without AC and has a more rustic bathroom. "I like the old charm," she states. While differences in tents are dra- matic in terms of updates, décor, and even layout, they all share significant similarities. At the end of the season, all furni- ture must be able to be stored in the N single back room, which is the wood structure. Tenters talk of the necessity of stackable chairs and versatile furnishings. "You always think, 'Where am I going to put that in the winter?'" says Bicknell. Nothing is square level. "Always carry a measuring tape when shop- ping," says Hutton. Count on special orders for most appliances, sinks, toilets, etc. It's a decidedly quirky way of liv- ing. At 21 Front Circle, Kymme VanCleef's shower is located in a small corner of the front room; the toilet and sink are off the kitch- en. Susan Burgermaster at 2 Front Circle found she couldn't fit ice cream in her small refrigerator. The LeDucs at 1 Wesley Place have no stove. Instead, they use two crock- pots, a microwave, toaster oven, and electric grill. "It's totally different from the way we live the rest of the year," says Gill. But that is also an essential part of the charm and underlying philosophy. After several devastating fires, there is no cigarette smoking in the tents, says Tom LeDuc. "You're pretty shamed if you have candles," echoes Bicknell.

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