Something Old, Something New

Before lunch yesterday, I asked my mother if she wanted to run the Opening Vespers program with me. It is like that now, for my mother is slowing down as she gets older and one of the privileges of age is that we do what we want. She didn’t come down to the Opening Vespers program at June Camp, but I figured she would want to do Main Camp… she always wants to do it. Opening Vespers is one of her favorite camp moments. I was sure she would be there.

Yesterday she was feeling good, the weather pleasant, she was in high spirits (enjoying her new patio furniture and playing with the dogs) so I just assumed that she would be excited about the program. It is a wonderful tradition which involves telling the story, hearing the verses, and seeing the candles. This ceremony is one she has enjoyed every summer of her life (except for two, to be precise). She loves it and always anticipates the experience.

A lifetime of candles held high. It is a lovely thought.

Yesterday she decided that she would not do Opening Vespers any more. That it was time for Margaret and me to do it. It was not said with sadness nor with a sense of great moment… just a matter of fact. It was so matter of fact, I didn’t even recognize the importance of the moment (camp is like that, a thousand things are going on all the time filling the mind with background noise). At the moment my main thought was “ugh”. I have to tell the story? I am not good at this story.

I have told the story before; so had my father. My father only told it once: he told it his own way (working in fear of Indian attacks, bears, lions…) a good adventure story but not the kind of story Mama wanted told! He was not asked to “fill in” again (and was delighted to be let off the hook)! My efforts at the story have not been not very successful either. I assumed that I had been quietly banished like my dad… put away not to “ruin” the beauty of a story best told from a woman’s perspective.

So this announcement caught me off guard. I shifted my “expectations” for the afternoon to include a little time to review the story (we have a very old newspaper clipping that tells of William Morris, the last keeper of a 180 year old fire that was famous in the 1940’s). I reviewed the flow of the program and tried to think of how I would make it “my own”. I decided to read a little of this newspaper article to the girls as an introduction. One quote from Mr. Morris stood out to me as I read the article:

After the chores are done at night, I come in and stir up the fire ‘till it’s blazing,, and then I sit down before it and I can see in the flames my mother and father, my grandparents and my great-grandparents who started it burning.”

I should have known this would be an emotional moment, but it caught me off guard.

Gathered in that beautiful building… the building my Great Grandfather built for this exact purpose… with my wife beside me, one daughter behind me (sitting with the Honor Council), another daughter to the right (a counselor again this year), a daughter in the rear of the pit (finally in the bungalows), and a son at the rear (sitting with the men staff, where I used to be)… the significance of my mother’s words earlier in the day hit me. The page had turned, at least in regards to Opening Vespers, and it was a big deal.

I didn’t want the girls to miss it, so I tried to convey the importance of this particular night. The more I tried to say those words, the harder it got. From now on, this story will be told a different way. Took a little time to say it.

Many of our campers have been coming to camp for many years, all these old campers would have only heard the story from my mother (like all you alums reading this now). Just like that, in the blink of an eye, a new storyteller is appointed.

Margaret and I bought camp from my family in 1996, but at camp such a detail really doesn’t matter. At camp, one is defined by what one does… Mama is the Senior Director and will be for as long as she is given life by our Good Lord. She is a blessing to the girls and used in a powerful way in their lives. The campers will not take Libby for granted after last night, she will not “always” be there and that fact will drive many to give her a hug or say a word.

I am glad to have been reminded of that fact myself.

Tonight we will have Team Meetings, where the Odds (Green Team) and Evens (Gold Team) will elect their new leaders. It is a fun night where the girls learn team songs around giant bonfires at the traditional “Odd Point” and “Even Point” by the lake. It is a very impressive ceremony as well (My mother lights the torches of the counselors who were team captains in years past, they then run to their respective fire locations and light the fire to huge applause). Mascot options are presented by the campers of Upper Tentalow 8 through Tentalow 12, complete with banners and cheers, and the teams choose one to be the mascot theme of 2013. Leaders are presented to the campers of each team (girls from “the Castle” who have been voted by their peers as the most outstanding leaders in camp) and the girls have secret ballots to elect one team captain and one team lieutenant. We count the votes then present the leaders to the team in a dramatic end to the night, which involves the torch being passed to the new leaders and an oath taken. It is a great night… the first step to our big Challenge Day next week.

Breakfast was a delicious egg casserole. Lunch is cheeseburgers (amazingly good, we grind our meat fresh for the best burger possible forming the patties by hand). Dinner is a Chinese theme night (Really fun, we dress and decorate to emphasize the theme).

Thank you for being a part of our lives at camp and caring about the little details that are such a big deal in this place. It is such an honor.

Jimboy

THE JOKE: A young man was dating a girl named Loraine. As time went on he found himself liking Lorane’s friend Clearly… awkward. He couldn’t figure out how to break up and not ruin his chances with Clearly. One day, Loraine was walking along the river and fell in, a tragic accident. The boy was so sad… but then he thought (in song) “I can see Clearly now Loraine is gone…”