but doesn’t hang up the phone

My dad was a camp director. Every summer until I was 17, my family would pack up and move to the shores of beautiful Lake Mudhen near Siren, WI. (Are you paying attention, KM?)

Sometime around 1980, we got a brand new dining hall/bathroom facility and with it, a new septic tank. Previously, too many flushes in the old bathrooms and/or our neighbor draining his sewage into/under camp property would prove to be too much for the old septic tank and it would occasionally overflow. I can still remember raw sewage trickling down the hill. My dad dubbed it the Little Yellow River, a nod to the Yellow River, where we sometimes took the campers canoeing.