If you survived the 1970s and are old like me, you might relate to the following story. If you are young, you will not understand. As Baby Boomers, we grew up in a different time and place. As a society, Americans were less safety conscious then, which was fine with us kids. We never wore bike helmets (you should wear one), we drank out of the garden hose, most of us had BB guns, and we stayed outdoors and played all day until it was time to come home for supper. And, for the most part, we were an unsupervised lot. You might say we were “free-range” kids. I think it made us healthy.
One special part of growing up for me was an annual adventure, 4-H summer camp. Highly anticipated every year was our trip to camp. We left our hot lowland existence and spent a week surrounded by towering pine trees in the cool mountains.
Part of the fun each year was the anticipation and preparation for our trip. We needed to take the basics, a sleeping bag (I always took my dad’s old Army bag), flashlight (with clip for your belt – purchased at the Army/ Navy store), swim trunks, play- ing cards, fishing tackle, and a favorite ball cap.
The ride up into the mountains varied in excitement. If riding the 4-H bus, things could be fun. If carpooling with all the moms, less exciting.
Every year we were assigned to cabin #13 and I got a top bunk (safer I thought in case bears came prowling in the night). After stowing our gear, we were released into the wild, first stop the ping pong tables. Campers played ping pong non-stop at camp it seemed. And I remember most of the boys carried large sheath knives on their belts. We all carried pocketknives (it was a boy thing), but many also carried belt knives. Some carried hatchets. We were prepared for anything.
Camp activities included swimming, horseback riding, early morning fishing excursions, canoeing, hiking, softball, and more. In the afternoons we could sign up for arts & crafts (we made a lot of key chains and sometimes dipped spiders in plastic as gifts for our moms).
If you were not signed up for arts & crafts, you might hit the snack bar to load up on red licorice. Or you could just stay in the cabin and play poker. Besides ping pong, poker was a favorite activity (usually five-card draw).
After mealtime and KP duty for some, we had the obligatory campfire programs. These in cluded songs and skits, and my favorite, ghost stories. One story I remember involved the ghost of a Boy Scout camp cook named Hahn who carried a butcher knife and had haunted the camp since the 1940s. If you listened carefully, you could hear him chopping in the woods as you stumbled back to your cabin after dark.
Remembering these summer camp days, I am struck by the apparent lack of adult supervision. Sure, we had a lifeguard at the pool, and someone to lead our horseback rides, and there were usually adults around the main compound and kitchen. But other than that, we were “freerange” campers. One memorable incident reinforces this in my mind.
It happened during one of our poker playing afternoons. We had sent one of our guys to the snack bar with a list of provisions needed. As he was returning, we heard a brief exchange of loud profanity (yes, as 12-year-olds we swore like sailors), and then our guy dove into our open cab- in door head-first (the cabin was just a canvas tent with an open door and plywood floor). He was followed by a whistling rock that barely missed his head. Another rock soon followed, and we took cover. It seems our rock throwing assailant had been offended by one of our mates and was determined to exact his revenge on the entire cabin. As such, he kept us pinned down for over an hour. And this kid had an arm. He was throwing like Satchel Paige. He had prepared a large stockpile of suitably sized rocks as ammo. We didn’t stand a chance. Every time one of us would peek out of the door, attempting to make a run for help or reinforcements, he was met with a blistering fast hunk of stone. It was all pretty thrilling. After discharging his rock pile, our attacker shuffled off to the arts & crafts tent, and we were free. None of us said anything to any of the adults. We all lived and are probably better off for it.
