Summer camp isn't just for kids. This Grandma has her own camp to enjoy!

 Camp!  A great ritual of childhood, camp comes in a variety of forms.  There are scouting camps. There are church camps. There are special interest camps. Whatever form camp takes, it is usually a kid’s first experience of “being on their own” for a short period of time. 

My sister and I went to a church camp that was about 2 hours away from home.  We were campers there in the late 1950s.  In the 1960s I was a cabin counselor, helping a dozen girls each week have a good experience that was free of homesickness.

One staple of packing for camp included heeding the “do not bring” list.  My sister and I did not have many things to have to avoid.  No chewing gum and no transistor radios covered most of the list.  I can imagine that the list of “no haves” has grown to include. I am sure that cell phones, iPads, video games and laptops need to stay at home.

In the 1950s my sister and I were required to wear dresses or skirts to our morning classes of Bible study and missionary talks.  After lunch we could don shorts for an afternoon of recreation.  We had swimming, crafts, ping pong (on concrete ping pong tables under the trees) and a trip to the Canteen for a snack. 

Daddy went to boy scout camp in the late 1920s.  I don’t know what would have been on the “do not bring” list back then.  Electronics did not exist unless you count home-made crystal radios.  Prohibition would have made alcohol difficult for kids that age to access.  I know that swimming was a staple activity because he took several photos of the lake with the pier stretching out to the deeper area.

I still go to “sleepover camp” in the summer.  I will soon be headed for “genealogy camp”.  I will get to make new friends who know what it is like to find the one record you have been seeking for years.  I will get to talk to people whose eyes do not glaze over when I talk about a pension application I found.  I will get to sit with a group of people who are eager sit for hours in a classroom to learn new techniques, new research sources and new search strategies to improve our research skills. 

At the end of the week I will not be bringing home a craft I made.  I will not be sunburned.  I will not suffer mosquito bites.  I will have a new list of genealogy contacts.  I will have a list of research ideas I am anxious to use to find those elusive ancestors.  I might even have a few new books for my reference shelf. My head will be about to burst with new knowledge and my body will ache from hours of concentration in class.  In other words, I will be so satisfied with the experience and I will be ready to start figuring out which class I want to take next year.

My two oldest grandchildren will be headed to sleepover camp next week.  I know they will have a great time meeting new friends and having tons of fun.  Have a great time girls, and remember even Grandma can still have a good time at “camp”.

Playing ping pong at camp in the 1950s. Original photo in the possession of the author.



Swimming pier at Daddy's boy scout camp in 1920s.  Original in the possession of the author.