|
|
|
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.
|
|