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Girl Talk
Summer camp was the life
By By Jill Meier
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Challenger editor
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EmailJuly 27. 2010 3:23PM
I had a great childhood.
I grew up in a small, yet sizable Minnesota town in a much simpler time. There was no cable TV to keep us entertained for hours on end or gadgets such as iPods, DVD players and cell phones. No, until sometime in the mid-70s, our family had a black and white TV that on a good day, the antennae brought in a half-dozen or so stations.
Music blared from transistor radios and record players that spun 45s, 78s and LPs. And as for cell phones, well, they were stationary, hanging on the wall or positioned on a table. The length of the phone cord determined just how far you could stray from its base.
While it was eons ago that transistor radios and record players were all the rage, I learned to live without those amenities for one week a summer when I signed into bible camp.
Bible camp was a week of pure fun for kids. We played softball and volleyball daily, made crafts, swam in the lake, canoed, reported for KP and slept in sturdily made bunk beds.
For one week each summer, it was the life.
Summer bible camp was a social network, long before social network was invented. It brought together a 100 or so kids – kids with all kinds of quirks – from communities around the area. Take for instance, Tex, the kid who wore the same clothes for a week straight. He arrived at Stoney Point on Sunday afternoon dressed in a long-sleeved yellow (and I mean yellow) button-down cowboy shirt, brown pants and cowboy boots. I vividly remember the outfit – it’s the same one he wore all week long, with the exception of swimming.
On the day we were scheduled to leave camp, the brown-haired, freckled-faced boy who wore the same yellow shirt, brown pants and cowboy boots for an entire week, actually dug out a clean shirt and pants. I nearly didn’t recognize him.
At summer camp, I made friends with kids who often went by shortened versions of their last name, Kastens, Enter and Koink, and some who were simply known by their first name, kids such as Dale, Elliot, Tracy and Mark. I even went to camp with a kid named Jimmy Carter. It was, in fact, during Jimmy Carter’s term as President. I’m pretty sure the Jimmy Carter that I went to camp with was of no bloodline to our 39th U.S. President. (God help us all, if he was.)
Jimmy Carter, the camper, was certainly a colorful individual. He was mischievous, clumsy and comical – a kid’s version of Jerry Lewis, if you will. And it was the combination of his mischievousness, clumsiness and comedic personality that left a lasting impression.
As I said, Jimmy had a mischievous side. One summer, prompted by some of the older kids at camp, he snuck into an adjacent cornfield where he consumed a bottle of mouthwash. Much to Jimmy’s disappointment, all he really got out of that bottle of Scope was a stomachache, minty fresh breath, a good talking to and extra KP duty.
Today, as I look back on my childhood years, I realize that I grew up at a great time, a time when life was simpler and a week at summer bible camp was the life.
This week's needs at the Brandon Area Food Pantry
This week's needs at the Brandon Area Food Pantry are pancake mix and syrup, spaghetti noodles and sauce, sugar, flour and Dinty Moore beef stew. Monetary donations are always appreciated.
The BAFP is located at 406 Main Ave., and is open from 4 to 6 p.m. Tuesdays and Thursdays. To donate to the food pantry or for more information, call 582-7001.
I grew up in a small, yet sizable Minnesota town in a much simpler time. There was no cable TV to keep us entertained for hours on end or gadgets such as iPods, DVD players and cell phones. No, until sometime in the mid-70s, our family had a black and white TV that on a good day, the antennae brought in a half-dozen or so stations.
Music blared from transistor radios and record players that spun 45s, 78s and LPs. And as for cell phones, well, they were stationary, hanging on the wall or positioned on a table. The length of the phone cord determined just how far you could stray from its base.
While it was eons ago that transistor radios and record players were all the rage, I learned to live without those amenities for one week a summer when I signed into bible camp.
Bible camp was a week of pure fun for kids. We played softball and volleyball daily, made crafts, swam in the lake, canoed, reported for KP and slept in sturdily made bunk beds.
For one week each summer, it was the life.
Summer bible camp was a social network, long before social network was invented. It brought together a 100 or so kids – kids with all kinds of quirks – from communities around the area. Take for instance, Tex, the kid who wore the same clothes for a week straight. He arrived at Stoney Point on Sunday afternoon dressed in a long-sleeved yellow (and I mean yellow) button-down cowboy shirt, brown pants and cowboy boots. I vividly remember the outfit – it’s the same one he wore all week long, with the exception of swimming.
On the day we were scheduled to leave camp, the brown-haired, freckled-faced boy who wore the same yellow shirt, brown pants and cowboy boots for an entire week, actually dug out a clean shirt and pants. I nearly didn’t recognize him.
At summer camp, I made friends with kids who often went by shortened versions of their last name, Kastens, Enter and Koink, and some who were simply known by their first name, kids such as Dale, Elliot, Tracy and Mark. I even went to camp with a kid named Jimmy Carter. It was, in fact, during Jimmy Carter’s term as President. I’m pretty sure the Jimmy Carter that I went to camp with was of no bloodline to our 39th U.S. President. (God help us all, if he was.)
Jimmy Carter, the camper, was certainly a colorful individual. He was mischievous, clumsy and comical – a kid’s version of Jerry Lewis, if you will. And it was the combination of his mischievousness, clumsiness and comedic personality that left a lasting impression.
As I said, Jimmy had a mischievous side. One summer, prompted by some of the older kids at camp, he snuck into an adjacent cornfield where he consumed a bottle of mouthwash. Much to Jimmy’s disappointment, all he really got out of that bottle of Scope was a stomachache, minty fresh breath, a good talking to and extra KP duty.
Today, as I look back on my childhood years, I realize that I grew up at a great time, a time when life was simpler and a week at summer bible camp was the life.
This week's needs at the Brandon Area Food Pantry
This week's needs at the Brandon Area Food Pantry are pancake mix and syrup, spaghetti noodles and sauce, sugar, flour and Dinty Moore beef stew. Monetary donations are always appreciated.
The BAFP is located at 406 Main Ave., and is open from 4 to 6 p.m. Tuesdays and Thursdays. To donate to the food pantry or for more information, call 582-7001.
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