I would like to share with you some of my earliest memories of Camp Whitman. Although I attended camp several times during the mid to late 60's, I think that my first camping experience was the most memorable. As our family were members were members of Park Presbyterian Church, each camper received a "campership" to help defray the cost of camp for the week. I can remember arriving on Sunday afternoon, with of course, the first stop being the Camp Nurse, and then later, having to complete the swim test in the FREEZING COLD swimming pool. We also kept busy collecting wood and stacking it properly (tinder, kindling, etc), for our unit. Camp ended on Saturday morning, not Friday night, so it seemed like it was going to be a long week.
Back in those days, of course, there were the hogans--lovely canvas tents, with four iron bunks, and that was about it (except for plenty of spiders, mosquitoes, and other assorted insects). If you were smart, you brought your belongings in a large suitcase that you could slide out from under your bunk. When they told you NOT to pack snacks, they were not kidding. There were plenty of very friendly raccoon who were happy to make your acquaintance, and to share whatever those moms had packed, the moms who thought their child might not eat all week at camp! Outside each hogan was a clothesline for wet bathing suits and towels.
The first year I was at Camp Whitman, we were assigned to the "B" unit, which is the furthest unit from everything! We all got lots of exercise that week! My counselors were Bonnie Timmerman (from Arkport, NY) and Terry Coye (from Lyons, his dad was the vet at the time). Bill and Jane Wilcox from Genesee Presbytery were the camp directors that year. At meal times, it was always fun to see which "duty" you had for that meal. There were cardboard cards at each table, they kind of resembled BINGO cards, and sometimes you were the "server" or the "jumper", depending on which seat you occupied at the table. And if you were really lucky, you landed on the free spot, and had no chores for that meal!
There was always plenty to do--crafts were my favorite (I recall this really neat paper where you could put bits of things on it--flowers, leaves, etc--you covered it with a piece of glass and left it in the sun, and by magic, there was the image of the flowers and leaves on the paper. They made really cool postcards, on which you could write home!) Not to mention boondoggling... The camp store was only open on Sunday (arrival time) and Saturday, for a short time, at check out. I believe we still have a Camp Whitman sweatshirt at home.
The hike to Punnett's Puddle was another highlight of the week. As I recall, we had brown bag lunches that day, and we hiked to the pond. There, around the edges of the pond were all kinds of animal tracks, where we made plaster of paris impressions of the tracks. I made one that actually had both a deer and raccoon print on it. I was so excited to be able to make a "cast" with TWO FOOTPRINTS IN ONE, and I remember bringing it to school in 6th grade to show the teacher, where it fell off his desk and broke. :(
I guess the MOST MEMORABLE thing that first year, however, was the sleepover on the beach by the lake. In those days, there were no lovely wooden steps like there are now. You basically had to find your way down the hill down the well-worn path, or take the "long way"--the path over off to the side, to get to the beach. We all laid out our sleeping bags, and after devotions, finally fell asleep. Sometime during the night, it started to rain, and it rained hard. We all had to grab our belongings and trudge up the path to the field, where a tractor picked us up, and carried us all, soaking wet, soggy sleeping bags and all, to the Dining Hall, where we "camped out" around the fireplace (which is now gone too).
I'm sure I drove my parents crazy on the 40 minute ride home from camp that Saturday morning. There was so much to talk about and tell them. I couldn't wait to go again the next year.
Years later, I became a parent, and both of my daughters, Sarah Bryant Whitcomb, and Jessica Bryant, were also fortunate to be able to attend Camp Whitman. They have many stories of their own to share. Last summer (2013), two of my grandchildren, Braden and Lindsey Whitcomb, attended Camp, and have become the third generation of our family to be campers there. Our family has also family camped whenever possible, a tradition which we hope to continue.
