In the summer of 1967, Marty and I prepared to go to camp. Camp Forbing was a YWCA sponsored camp located deep in the wilderness - though now when I look at it on the map, it's location on Ellerbe Road, is not too far removed from Shreveport-proper - but, back then, it was miles from civilization... or at least it seemed that way.
Marty had been to camp the year before, so was a returning, seasoned camp veteran. I was a novice, on my first over-night, week-long camping experience. I was going to be fine though, because not only was Marty going to be there with me, but my best friend, Nancy, would be my cabin buddy, too. Everything was going to be great.
Nancy and I had been friends from the time we met as 2 year-olds in our church's Nursery Sunday School class. Her big brother, Mel, and my brother, Fred, were best friends, also. Their friendship allowed me the comfort of knowing - if I spent the night with Nancy, and Freddie spent the night with Mel - if a tornado, or other calamity took away the rest of our family, at least I'd have one family member as a fellow survivor.
A few days before we were to leave for camp, I was over at Nancy's house.We decided to go to a nearby, neighborhood park, Atkins Park, to play for a while. Once there, we usually liked to swing. The park had big swings with a higher-than-your-backyard-variety swing-set frame, that allowed you to recklessly swing as high as the frame itself. Legend had it that someone knew someone who had actually gone so high, they had looped completely over and back around - an accomplishment of which we were in fearful awe.
We had swung for a while, then dabbled in playing in the kiddie park, nearer the library. In addition to a four-horse carousel, a small slide, and a large, flat turtle you could climb on, there was a spaceship looking merry-go-round - white with indented spaces where one could stand and hold on to the metal handles on either side. Nancy called this contraption "the Egg". Her goal was to climb up on top of it, using the handles as foot-holds, then maneuvering to the domed top. She later said that she had called out to me, "Don't push", but all I heard was "Push!", so I did. The action of the spinning "egg" caused Nancy to lose her yet-unattained perch on the top. She fell, and, as we each suspected from the pain she was experiencing, broke her arm!
Not only was Nancy suffering in pain, but I was going to have to go to camp without my best friend. I would have preferred to not go at all, but, as it was paid for, it was a done-deal - I was going no matter how much I wished not to. Marty convinced me it would still be fun - and, at least, she would still be there with me.
The day for going to camp arrived. We unloaded our suitcases (this wasn't "no Girl Scout camp"), and bed rolls and pillows from the family van. A camp counselor approached us to "divide us into groups" - separated by age. Marty went with her group, and I with another. We were led to an octagon shaped cabin with bunk beds against each wall. Everyone scrambled to claim their beds - girls WITH friends wanted to be together. I had no one, so didn't really care. I ended up in the upper bunk over the cabin counselor - who began every day by waking the cabin, and rudely pushing up on my mattress with her feet until I feared I would fly off the bunk. We trudged off to the day's activities - first to the cafeteria where I hoped to catch sight of Marty and beg her to rescue me, then to the usual camp-fare of crafts (lanyards, of course), singing, swimming, etc.
The camp was pretty in a rugged sort of way, complete with the pre-requisite lake, and the lodge which housed the dining hall had a very nice pool. Back in our unit, I have vague memories of fearing there may be snakes in the toilets - a danger in any outdoor plumbing situation in the south - so we checked, first, before we sat. We had sing-a-longs by the lake where rounds of "Hear the lively song of the frog in yonder pond, 'Crick, crick, cricketty-crick. Buur-rump!' " echoed into the fading light of evening. We were "raided" by other camp units - I think Marty's group-raid consisted of rousing us from our cabins and giving out ice-cream sandwiches. One night the counselors put on a lovely synchronized swimming show for our pleasure and delight.
On the last night, the special activity was a big surprise. We were to bring our towels along, We hiked around camp (to disorient us, perhaps), then ended up at the lodge. We all stood around the pool, and were told to take off our clothes - we were going skinny-dipping! Most of us were shy and reticent (It reminded me of an incident where, at our aunt's house in Michigan, Marty and I were paraded out of the tub and into the living room to meet some relatives whom we had never seen - in only our panties!), but after much urging of "We're all girls!", and seeing the older girls give in to the hedonistic ritual of stripping down to nothing and quickly jumping in the darkened pool for cover, we quickly doffed our clothes and jumped in. Everyone, including the counselors, was buck-naked splashing in the pool under the starry sky!
The next morning, when Mommy came to pick us up, she told us that we had missed an entire war while we were away at camp.
*Linda reminded me of this a couple weeks ago, on the anniversary of the Six Day War.
