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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.
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