That's me in the back of the boat with the girls, summer of 1953 (Gad! I was only 6!), my little sister (3) with her head turned on the seat just in front. We're all children of music faculty at the National Music Camp, Interlochen, MI.
In this shot, there am I, womanizing, again; my sis on the step in front (lost without her glasses—which she wore from age 2.5 until her death) between Philip Swanson, who had to grown into the size of his head, and cry baby Carol Anderson. Her dad played the trumpet; Phil's, the trombone; our dad, the bassoon. Sheesh! What we remember when we knock on those doors long closed!
We lived in Kansas at the time, so the lakes and forests of northern MI were quite an exotic switch. Dad taught there, later conducting the Concert Orchestra, for more than thirty years.