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A Flood of Memories

by Patricia (Kay Nobles) Jay, Former Camper
Written in 2005

Wow, Where does one start with such a rich wellspring of strong memories that span the spectrum of emotions and years I had the privilege to experience at Camp Echo.

I started going to Camp Echo when I was the next to youngest age able to attend. My best friend told me about it and it was something we could do together which was always good. We went every year until we aged out. I really hated that we had to stop and I have not been back since. I do not remember the years that I attended though. I am 47 years old now and living in North Carolina. The tears come to my eyes remembering so many strong, rich and poignant memories. How I would love to go back and visit, at least. One tangible small piece of camp Echo remains in the possession of my mother who still has a pair of salad serving pieces I painted.

Memories flood my mind as I sit here. Sitting at chapel and thumping on the ground and thinking it sounded so hollow and digging with small sticks expecting to find a cave and hidden mysteries below. Going to bed at night after singing song after song harmonizing joyfully, reveling in the sense of unity it brought, only to scour the rafters of Snyder lodge for spiders that were everywhere, poised to drop and crawl on us in the dark! We christened our lodge Snyder Spider.

A different Snyder Lodge memory that is forever etched in my mind is the discovery of a severed head of a cow washed to the shore behind our lodge. We all ran out to see what it was as our counselor waded out to pull it ashore. It was badly decomposed and was a horrible sight to see as well as smell. Our counselor bravely pulled it ashore to a spot where she could dig a hole and bury it. All of us campers did not hang around very long to watch the whole ordeal when we were hit with the full impact of what it really was. The stench was overpowering and the visual images burned into my mind. We could not comprehend how this head came to be disembodied much less ending up in the lake. This was the most bizarre experience I can recall.

Another memory that was more frightening than bizarre was of some of the many fishermen that we hooted and hollered at and sometimes teased deciding to sneak onto the camp premises and try to gain access to our cabin. There was quite an uproar when they were quickly discovered. We campers were quarantined to our cabins while the director and counselors hunted these guys down. We had no idea that we were playing with such fire and it was a sobering experience.

I dearly loved the exuberance of pounding on the big pine dining hall tables as we sang our camp songs and the sadness of having to stop the tradition as the tables could not stand the banging. Oh, but what a wonderful booming sound that resonated!

I have so many memories that made Camp Echo a powerful influence on my life. One regret that I have had all these years is that I never kept a songbook with all my beloved songs. I still can recall bits and pieces of my favorites though.



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Mon Mar 10 06:33:15 2008.

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