Confirmation Camp...or, who's the REAL turkey here?

I'm out at Camp Carol Joy Holling this week with 8 soon-to-be 8th graders enjoying the wonder that is known as Confirmation Camp. Good kids, looks like good weather, and even air-conditioning in the cush-camp quarters for us adults who don't feel like "roughing it" at night anymore!!!! (Wireless internet, even!!!!)

I have the kids for 2 1/2 hours of Confirmation instruction in the morning, and they get to do the regular "camp thing" with their counselors for the rest of the day, which gives me the freedom to travel from group to group and sit in on what my kids are doing with their counselors, or just find my own bed and take a little rest time if I need it.

It amazes me that I used to be able to do this for a whole summer...one full day here, and I'm already beat. But happy. The staff is great, the kids are having fun, learning, and acclimating, and I got a sweet picture of a group of turkeys at a worship site around 6:45 this morning!!!

I'll check in again. Until then...

LH

On camps and tornadoes and shelters

In the past 30 hours, I've gone from incredibly sad to incredibly angry.

From all accounts, the scouts and their leaders at the Little Sioux Scout Ranch Boy Scout camp in Iowa did everything they could yesterday when a tornado ripped through the camp. It sounds as though they handled the situation as well as they possibly could have. Many of them ought to be hailed as genuine heroes for their actions in helping take care of each other after a horrific event.

But they were let down by their facility.

From what I've read, all of their buildings had slab floors. There were no underground storm shelters.

None.

I know it's the Boy Scouts. I know they operate on shoestring budgets. Believe me, I understand. I work for the church. But I don't care how little money your organization has...if you're in the midwest, and you don't have the money to have an underground storm shelter, you don't build the camp. There's a reason they call it Tornado Alley in this part of the country, for crying out loud!

I was a camper and later a counselor and sorta "middle management" for Camp Carol Joy Holling, a Lutheran church camp near Ashland...all told I spent the entirety of 5 summers there on staff, and 6 other partial summers as a camper. I was a counselor during the infamous summer of 1993, with all the floods and severe weather. This camp depends on the church for its funding...not exactly a cash cow. But it does have underground storm shelters for all its campers on all its various sites. To hear of what happened in Iowa just absolutely rips my heart out, because it frickin' didn't have to happen.

The kids that were killed--and many of the kids that were injured--it wasn't because they were caught outside hiking. They were prepared. They had taken shelter. They were inside a building.

But their shelter let them down.

I love kids. I think the ministry that comes from camping can be some of the most life-changing stuff God has to offer. I don't get mad very often. But I'm hopping mad right now, because what should have been just a scary close call ended up killing and injuring kids. And it didn't have to be that way.

So, what to do?

If you're a parent, I urge you to make sure that any camp you send your kids to is ACA (American Camping Association) accredited. There's pretty stringent guidelines that camps have to follow to receive their accreditation, one of which is ensuring adequate underground storm shelters.

And if there's a camp that you support or send your kids to that isn't ACA-accredited, ask their board of directors why not. And then offer your support--whether it be in labor, money, or both. Even if you don't pick up a shovel to directly dig a shelter, any volunteering you do for them is money saved for them that they can spend in other places...like storm shelters.

As a camp staffer, you follow a hierarchy of needs similar to Maslow's. First and foremost, you ensure your campers' safety. If that's taken care of, then you can attend to their comfort. Once you've done that, then your campers are in a position where you can help them grow.

It's easy, and tempting, especially when budgets are tight and you rely on the giving and goodwill of others, to skimp or cut corners on the first and focus on the second two.

But that's unacceptable.

Lives change at camp. Camping has been a BIG part of my life for many years. I met Sweetie working at camp. I count many of the folks who run Camp Carol Joy Holling as close friends. I have supported that camp in many, many ways over a number of years.

But I still maintain...if as a camp, especially in the Midwest, you're not able to provide underground storm shelter, you ought not to be operating until you can.

Period.

LH

Camp Tornadoes

Last night, we had a number of tornadoes tear through the area. The sirens a few blocks away from our house went off four separate times between 7 and 10 PM, and at one point, based on what the weather guys were saying, I was fairly certain our part of town was going to get hit.

We're fine, thankfully. There's flooding in the area, but none at our house. And no confirmed tornado touchdowns in Lincoln, though a number of funnel clouds were spotted in the sky above the city last night.

One of last night's tornadoes made national headlines, as 4 Boy Scouts were killed and 48 injured at Little Sioux Scout Ranch, a camp in Iowa, north of Omaha off of I-29. Another tornado was reported near Greenwood Nebraska, and was reportedly headed toward Ashland, which put Camp Carol Joy Holling, the camp that Sweetie and I met at, right in its path. We haven't seen any news from that, so I suppose no news is good news right now...especially since there's a few of my youth group kids at camp right now. In the past, this also would have been the week that I would have been at camp with my confirmation kids, but I changed from the traditional week our church had been going because it always would have fallen over Sweetie's and my wedding anniversary (number 8 this year--woo hoo!!!).

And while I DO love camp, sorry...it's always gonna take a back seat to my anniversary.

But it did get me to thinking back to my days as a counselor and site manager. One night in particular. It was the summer of 1996, and I was the site manager at Main Site (now called Trailhead). Basically, what that meant was I was kind of in a "middle management" position. There are 5 sites at camp, each one with its own program. The site managers oversaw their team of counselors (anywhere from 5 to 15 counselors, depending on the site), and reported to the Program director, who oversaw everything.

On this particular evening, we were supposed to go to Inspiration Point for fun campfire, followed by evening worship. Inspiration Point is on top of a big hill, and offers a beautiful view of the surrounding Platte River valley. But the clouds had been doing funny things all afternoon, we were under a bunch of severe weather watches, and some nasty stuff apparently had started to form in the central part of the state, a couple of hundred miles away. I consulted with the Program Director by walkie talkie, and together we decided that it would be best to move fun campfire to a spot closer to the storm shelter. The kids (and counselors) were a little disappointed, but I told them we could do it there, or we could do it inside, or not at all.

Kinda like some of the "choices" I give Kiddo--my choice, or two choices I know he'll hate.

So anyway, campfire finished, smores were consumed in mass quantities, we moved a short way to an outdoor worship spot (even closer to the shelter), and began worship. Each day, a different group of kids (guided by their counselor) is responsible for planning evening worship. It's a great way for these kids to actually put some thought into what worship really is, how it's structured, what the different parts are...stuff that they may do over and over at home, but don't really think about what it is or why it's there. If there are pastors there with kids they've brought, often they'll be asked to speak at evening worship.

This particular night, it was Pastor Joe Marek giving the mini-sermon. I sat in the back row with my walkie-talkie glued to my ear as I half listened to Pastor Marek talk about grace in our lives, and half-listened to our program director give us site managers weather updates. There were severe thunderstorm warnings a county to the west of us, and while the existing storm looked as though it would pass to the north of us, they were worried that it was growing to the south at the same time as it was heading east, so we might not be out of the woods.

Suddenly, our program director said, "confirmed tornado near Greenwood, headed toward Ashland. Get your kids to shelter STAT and check in immediately after."

I froze for just a second.

Pastor Marek was still preaching.

How does one go about interrupting a preaching pastor? And when would I ever again have the excuse to do so?

So I stood up, and walked slowly to the front, where he was standing. "I'm so sorry to interrupt," I said, "but I need to talk for a minute." Pastor Marek stepped aside. Turning to the kids, I said, "we'll finish worship, but we need to do so inside. Kids, hold on to your songbooks, and I need you to find your counselor. Please don't talk unless your counselor is asking you to check in with them. Counselors, when all your kids are accounted for, come to the Holling House basement with them...do not go inside until you have told me your name and that you have all your kids AND I have told you to go in. We need to do this quickly. I'll see you in a minute."

In a matter of a minute or two, all fifteen counselors were with their kids and were checking in with me at the door to the basement. We squeezed everyone inside, on the floor of the basement, and I had each counselor do one last head count. In less than 5 minutes, we had about 100 kids, 15 counselors, a couple of pastors, and a site manager who was trying to look strong but was shaking inside all in the Holling House basement. I checked in with the Program Director, who was in her own tornado shelter in a different part of the camp.

Only then did I tell the counselors that our area was under a tornado warning.

And then we finished worship. In the middle of the storm, not knowing what was going to happen, we worshipped. And when we were done, we sang some more songs. songs of praise, songs of joy, some goofy camp songs...songs to remind us that God was good.

Everyone's pillows, sleeping bags, etc. were down in their tents, and the Program Director said that once this line of storms went through, things looked as though they were going to be relatively calm for the rest of the night, so I didn't worry about trying to force the kids to sleep. Instead, we continued to sing. As time went on, we moved into quieter music, more contemplative, more peaceful. A few kids leaned against the wall and started to snooze.

Finally, about two hours after we were initially called into the shelter, we were given the all-clear and I let everyone go back to their tents. The tornado ended up doing some damage to some fields--twisted trees, destroyed pivots, that sort of thing--but stayed away from our camp, as well as other populated areas.

So last night, when I was in the basement with my family, feeling fairly certain that at any moment a tornado would be bearing down on my house, I listened to the weather guy saying there was a tornado "near Greenwood, headed toward Ashland." Transported back twelve years, I re-lived worshipping in another basement, also fairly certain that at any moment a tornado would be bearing down on where we were.

And after the news of the camp in Iowa, I prayed. And to be honest, I cried a little bit.

It was a strange night of emotion and memories.

LH

***Quick update: After I posted, I checked my email...there was one from Camp Carol Joy Holling letting me know that all the kids are safe, and that as far as they could tell there was little to no damage from last night's storms. I can breathe a little easier now...

ReFIREment

Sunday evening, Sweetie and I went not to a retirement dinner, but a reFIREment dinner for Pastor Roger Sasse, executive director of Nebraska Lutheran Outdoor Ministries. NLOM runs Camp Carol Joy Holling, which is where Sweetie and I met when we were on summer staff together eleven years ago. And for anyone who knows Roger, the term reFIREment is much more appropriate than "retirement." Even though he says he's taking a month to do some in-depth study on the feeding habits of the great northern pike, I don't think he'll ever truly retire. He just has too much fire in him.

The dinner was great--there was a suitable combination of reminiscing and roasting, the highlight of which was the long-time director of buildings and grounds returning an entire toolbelt worth of tools that had fallen off the back of Roger's pickup over the years, then going backstage and wheeling out a gigantic electric generator that Roger apparently at one point had let fall off the back of his truck when he forgot to put up the tailgate.

Oh...and the food. The food. The. Food. Was. Amazing.

I know it sounds weird to hear that about camp food, but ever since NLOM hired an executive chef for their retreat center food preparation, meals at camp (which have always been above average) have become works of culinary art. Savory, tender beef tenderloin strips marinaded and with a cracked pepper glaze. Chipotle roasted shrimp. Au gratin potatoes (the real ones, not the ones out of a big box). Two different vegetable salads. I can't even begin to adequately describe how good the spread was.

And then there were the desserts, which honestly were as good as you'd find at any fine restaurant you'd ever go to.

An all-around wonderful time. We were at a table with old friends, got to catch up with other old friends from camp and from campus ministry, and thoroughly enjoyed the evening.

Kiddo was with us, too. Sweetie and I had told him in the morning that we were going to be going to camp in the evening, and his first question had been, "am I going to get mosquito bites?" We had assured him that no, we were going to be inside. When we got there, we were so proud of how nicely he sat through the hour-long dinner, followed by an hour-long program. He listened, looked around, and intently paged through the books we had brought for him. After the final speaker, the synod bishop closed with a prayer and had everyone stand up and hold hands during the praying. Kiddo prayed right along, holding Sweetie's and my hands. When the prayer was over, he looked at me and asked, "Daddy, is this church?"

Hm. Is this church? Well, not really in the sense in which he was asking the question.

So my initial answer was "no, but it's like church because we prayed and talked about Jesus." As I spoke, though, my words sounded awfully hollow to me. So I interrupted myself.

"Actually," I said, "yes. This IS church. It doesn't look like our church at home, does it? But this is a big church that looks like a camp. And kids and grownups come and sing and pray and play and learn all about how much God loves them."

Kiddo thought about it and said, "that's really cool."

Yep...very cool indeed.

Happy reFIREment, Roger!

LH

Random Thought At The End Of A Week At Confirmation Camp

Wouldn't the world be a better place if everyone stopped what they were doing from 3:45 until 4:00 every afternoon to eat snowcones?

I'm just sayin'...

LH