Better than Red Bull!

I took a big gulp of Root Beer today and there was something about the icy sweetness on this summer afternoon that brought a vivid memory of when I went to camp in the mid 1960s. We got two canteen breaks each day and I loved to drink root beer while eating a Zero candy bar. Talk about your sugar high!  I am not sure if they even make Zeros any more but they were one of my favorites when I was 12.  Silver wrapper with blue writing. Remember those?  We never had candy bars when I was at home so pigging out on junk food at camp was a special treat.

I think my first year of camp was when I had finished the 5th grade. It was in a beautiful location in northern Arkansas with a major rock cliff overlooking the White River. There were lots of great hiking paths and a concrete staircase down the side of a steep hill. Baseball diamonds and pavilions for activities. And, it was hot! 

We slept in screened in cabins with no electricity, just the sun by day and flashlights after dark.  Each cabin held bunks for 14 giggly girls. Or rather 13 girls and one college student counselor. The boys cabins were on the other side of the camp and we had about 80 girls and probably as many boys in ourgroup in our session. The bunks were wooden with 2 inch mattresses but by the end of each day you were so exhausted you slept like a rock. And the wooden walls were covered with notes written in ballpoint pen from campers from other sessions and other summers. "CABIN 5 - Session II is the BEST! July 1965" or "Debra + Benny 4 Ever"

There was a shower house for every 6 or 8 cabins.  Concrete walls and floors with wooden potty stalls and only cold water for showers. At the age of 11 or 12 those community showers were the worst.  I remember trying to find an odd time each day to shower, hoping to avoid any and everyone!  It generally did not work since there were too many other modest preteens with the same idea.

Each camp session lasted two weeks and I remember the summer crushes and those special moments holding hands. Or, if you were one of the older campers, furtive kisses!  Love bloomed quickly at the the foothills of the Ozarks. And, when camp was over you had pen pals that generally only lasted through the end of the summer but on occasion would last through the following school year.  I remember Jim L. who wrote to me over the course of two summers.  I can still recall his angst when he instructed me that if I ever had a son, to never, ever keep him from playing football if that was what he wanted to do.  [When I saw Jim at college years later we talked and laughed about those letters and how upset he was with his mom at the time. Jim later became a doctor.]

I went to camp by myself the first year and I remember getting a little homesick. Funny the things that I can recall about that whole experience. My parents did not know any better that first year but the other, more experienced campers (who probably had older brothers or sisters laying the ground work) got "care packages" in the mail with comic books, candy, homemade cookies and notes from home. I think it was mythird year at camp before I convinced my mother that receiving a care package was an absolute necessity!  If you did not have one, you could not share with your friends and basically you felt like the bottom rung of a cast society.

Each day we were encouraged to write letters during quiet time and I am sure my mother still has my camp epistles saved somewhere, with pitiful laments begging for a care package.

After that first year, I recall stationary was so important when packing my foot locker for camp.  You did not want to appear childish with the wrong kind of writing paper. This was the time of the Beatles and the Peter Maxx art explosion. No baby pastels for me.  The brighter the colors and the more flowers on the matching envelopes the better!  And, I think the stamps were 5 cents at the time.  I do know the letters covered a lot of ground in just one night back then.

And, then there were the songs!  "We love you ________, oh yes we do-o.  We love you ___________ and we'll be true-oo.  When you're not with us, we're blue.  Oh,  _________, we love you!!"  Toward the middle of the session, the boys would sneak over after lights out and serenade the girls and a couple of nights later we would go over to the boy's side of camp and serenade them. It was always supposed to be a surprise but invariably some girl or boy, in an effort to show their deep commitment to their new love, would spill the beans. We felt so brazen "sneaking" over to the forbidden side of the camp. Of course, the counselors were leading the way and bringing up the rear so no one was lost in the darkness.  And, how exciting to hear the boys actually sing tous - songs they obviously had to practice.  And, then there would be some silly song to break the mood and remind us that they really were very macho and had been forced to participate.  (I wonder what word I would have used to describe them in 1965?)

It was a simpler time where the biggest problem I can recall was when Cheryl got mad at Rusty and slapped him during a three-legged race, thus ending their summer romance.  I believe three girls were quick to step up and try to help Rusty recover.

I could go on and on but I must save the rest for another time - tales of crafts and lanyards, salt tablets, towels that never dried after swimming and were mildewed by the time you went home and the mess hall and Sadie Hawkins Day......  

What happy memories one drink of root beer brought back to me today.  

 

Tags: camp, serenades, root beer, Zeros, care packages, Beatles, Peter Maxx, pen pals, Harding, church camp