Page 2 of 2 Previous

Continued: Withering Glance: Notes on Camp

  • Article by:
  • Last update: July 5, 2013 - 2:21 PM

CP: One “activity” involved knocking each other out of canoes with padded sticks. An asthmatic camper had to be sent home after undergoing a strenuous hazing-type ritual. I had to run to the nurse’s cabin through a darkling woods, like that climactic scene in “To Kill a Mockingbird.”

 

RN: Fun. Camps often have such exotic-sounding names. While my older sisters were making s’mores at Camp Tanadoona, I was holed up in the Hennepin County Library, spending my vacation trying to make the all-star summer reading club and praying I wouldn’t be sent to camp.

 

CP: Sounds like me. I loved scouring the library for a stack of Russian classics I had not already read. Getting back on topic, how Bible-y was your Lutheran camp? Were gory and R-rated campfire stories off the menu?

 

RN: Seeing as how I can still recall the lyrics to our sappy sing-along songs, I’d say it scored fairly high on the God-o-Meter. The Y camp that I talked into hiring me was semi-agnostic. It was more about horseback riding than memorizing passages from “The Way.”

 

CP: Still, if your parents had really known you, they’d have sent you to Camp Sond-Heim-a-wonda.

 

E-mail: witheringglance@startribune.com

Twitter: @claudepeck and @RickNelsonStrib

  • related content

  • Summer camp:  It requires more navigating for some.

  • get related content delivered to your inbox

  • manage my email subscriptions

ADVERTISEMENT

Connect with twitterConnect with facebookConnect with Google+Connect with PinterestConnect with PinterestConnect with RssfeedConnect with email newsletters

ADVERTISEMENT

ADVERTISEMENT

ADVERTISEMENT

ADVERTISEMENT

ADVERTISEMENT

ADVERTISEMENT

 
Close