Our church camp is situated on Portage Lake in Onekama, Michigan. I started attending camp in the summer of 1974. Within minutes of arriving, my buddy, Jack, landed wrong after jumping off of the swing set and suffered a compound fracture of his arm. The swing set remains in use to this day, along with the tether ball pole and many of the original buildings, including the main bathrooms, which are known affectionately as the White House.
From my youngest days as a camper, the absolute pinnacle of life for me was to work on summer staff of camp, which I did for four years, beginning in the summer of 1982. The staff that year consisted of about a dozen college kids, a few adults and a gaggle of teenagers. It was a summer of firsts. My first summer crush, first time at a drive-in movie theater (Rocky 3 was showing), first time away from home[1]My mom worked on staff as the camp nurse, so I wasn’t really out of her orbit for a couple more years, first time working outdoors as a maintenance worker (which you already know I hated) and first time up front in chapel, playing my guitar.
On an evening staff outing during the summer of 1982, I remember speeding down Lakeshore road to a place known to us simply as Olson’s Spot. Billy Joel was blasting on a car cassette tape player:
They say that these are not the best of times, but they’re the only times I’ve ever known.
And I believe there is a time for meditation in cathedrals of our own…[2]Summer Highland Falls
Olson’s Spot is an abandoned house on the top of a dune overlooking Lake Michigan, just south of Onekama. Our group made a campfire that evening at the top of the dune. I remember stepping away from the fire to see the twinkling lights of a freighter heading north on Lake Michigan. It was a magical moment in my life. I didn’t know about lake freighters, or much about anything else. It was all new.
Over the years this area has become more and more sacred to me. It is as if nothing has changed. In my heart I’m still a sixteen year old boy enamored with the natural world. My roots are planted deep here in northern Michigan. Whenever I’m here and the wind blows through the pines and the aspens, my heart whispers to me, “welcome home.” I smile.
References
| ↑1 | My mom worked on staff as the camp nurse, so I wasn’t really out of her orbit for a couple more years |
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| ↑2 | Summer Highland Falls |