Coach “Black Mike” Castronis, Athens Y Camp
—1947-1987
“Enthusiasm” was his word,
Win or lose, he bore it well,
From the front he ran our herd,
This was clear and one could tell.
Led the hikes to Rabun Lake,
Called us men to not forsake
The Lord. And when he’d loudly sing?
The Blue Ridge heard the rafters ring.
Chuck Hasty preached his “last respects,”
In Athens-town; and Christus Rex
In Old First Church made sure I cried
When Coach “Black Mike” Castronis died.
Alec Ream is a writer living in Virginia. His poetic work and creative fiction have been widely published. A member of the Demosthenian Literary Society at UGA, he wrote on Lookout Mountain, and continued to write, lecture and work for Delta Kappa Epsilon HQ. He was first published reading to the pledge class of Michigan DKE, in Ann Arbor in 2008. Recently, his poem Green Fire was read at the Washington Literary Society & Debating Union at UVA.









Coach Mike Castronis, Greek American, was also my father and uncle’s coach at Athens Y Camp in the 1940s and early 50s. My family’s descended from Huguenots and Jews / South France. The nickname “Black Mike” was nicer than the one my father had in first grade, due to his skin tone. Dr Hasty preached no few sermons helping my life stay between the goalposts when I was at UGA in the 80s. The motto of Athens Y Camp, founded 1898? “Out of the sin‑filled, rat‑infested cities of man, and into the Paradise of Youth where God and good times are friends.”
Alec, this is a touching memorial to “Black Mike,” one of feelings certainly shared by many, many team members including those you never knew. I like your line “The Blue Ridge heard the rafters ring.” It mixes building and mountain images such that readers wonderingly try to envision how and where the sound carries, just as we wonder at the expanse of human connections made by the coach.
A connection of my own is that my grandfather was born in Athens, Georgia, and was a Presbyterian. I have visited the place, but that classical temple of a church may be long gone. Fascinating to see steps where a close family member walked, depicted on this old post card.
Margaret, thank you for the read and remarks. First Presbyterian is still there. As is Emmanuel Episcopal, which started at 11:15. No few Sundays saw me driving the speed limit from the frat house toward First Church, only to pivot over to Prince Ave, to worship at Emmanuel when I was late. Athens Y Camp was founded in 1898, and AYC still carries the torch of the gospel of Christ Jesus – which is remarkable in the time in which we live. The Great Author has a plan, however; it is not dull, or boring, or predictable. It is substantial, intricate, all encompassing, and very, very good.
Alec, this is a touching tribute to a camp coach/counselor. I had my own at Camp Paisano near Alpine, Texas. Going to such summer camps with men of God in charge is a blessing to those of us who could attend.
Col Roy, you got it. Places like Alpine Texas and Tallulah Falls Georgia are not just places, they are formation rooms. And the fellows who ran them for decades deserve praise. Whatever good I am today, is in part due to Coach Mike. Whatever faults I have? they are lessened by, and mitigated by, his example and influence. Thanks for the read and for the remarks.
Coaches, as any other kind of teacher, long live with us as our characters are formed, and are remembered long after. This tribute is well founded and cannot but sanctify the memories we have of such persons.
CB, that is spot-on. The tone of Coach Mike’s voice, his bearing and humor, even the voice of his correction of us back in the early 1980s resonate with me on an almost weekly basis. Thanks for the read and for the remarks.