Sure, I would write letters home -- more often than many kids who only did so on nights they had to hand over a letter to gain entry to the dining hall.
And my mom wrote me back, envelopes stuffed with Times clippings and Mets gossip. My parents would drive up at the four-week mark for visiting day to put faces to the names of my counselors and bunkmates.
That isn't quite the case nowadays. Though my daughters are "away," I feel quite apprised of what's going on. And, in the age of helicopter parenting and TMI, I don't know whether that's a good thing or not.