Flashback Friday: Don't Pee On the Electric Fence

With Memorial Day coming up and summer just around the bend, my thoughts often turn to my glory days in youth ministry. Today I remember wisdom learned while serving as a summer camp counselor at Quaker Lake Camp between 1977-1983. This post first appeared in 2011. May the wisdom imparted on this Flashback Friday change your life the way it did mine...

Quaker Lake Staff, around 1981...I think...

Since the dawn of time (or so it seems) campers and staff at Quaker Lake Camp in Climax (Yes, that's really the name of the little town. Imagine working there as a college student then going back to school in the Fall and telling all of your friends that you spent the entire summer in Climax. Crass, I know- but that joke never got old...) NC have gathered on Sunday nights during the summer for the dreaded Orientation. This 6 hour meeting (OK, not really- but it often seemed like it) was a a time for meeting the staff, going over schedules and activities, and for learning safety procedures. All of it was necessary to ensure a smooth week of camp. But only the safety procedures made the staff laugh...


Campers were told to beware of lightning and to get away from water and take refuge in buildings. Good advice- except in my early years the cabins were mostly metal screens, which when wet were not exactly safe havens from the storms. But that was better than the "What to do in case of a tornado" instructions. Because the buildings would have offered no resistance to high winds in those days, had there ever been (and thank God there wasn't) a tornado we were to go the nearest ditch and lie down in it. Get low. Also get wet (the ditches were all by the lake and always full of skunky water) and quite possibly snake bitten. Personally, I would have headed for the concrete block outhouse and taken my chances. And finally, there was a discussion of what to do in case of a fire. Neal Thomas, camp director during my years as a camper and staff member, was also a volunteer fireman. He knew his stuff. And every week he would tell us all that in case of a fire anywhere at camp, we should all report to the softball field- a large grassy area located between the pool and crafts hut. Neal would barely get those words out of his mouth when someone- usually a camper, occasionally a smart-mouthed staff member- would pose the obvious question. "Neal- what if the softball field is on fire?" And we would all laugh hysterically. It's not a stupid question- it's just that we heard it every week. But even with going over all of those safety procedures each and every week, not once did anyone ever tell the boy campers not to pee on the electric fence...


A quick explanation- as I think has been mentioned before, behind the boy's cabins was a cow pasture. Separating the cows from the camp was a barbed wire fence with a small electric charge running through it. Campers were never told about the fence, because there was no need for them to go anywhere near it. Well...only one reason.


It was a dark, spooky 25 yard walk from the boy's cabins to the boy's bath house- even farther from my home in Cabin #4. If a camper woke up in the middle of the night and needed to use the restroom, it was a daunting task to go by yourself. Some went anyway. Many a camper just held it the rest of the night. A few would try to go right outside the cabin- but you could hear them, so it wasn't very sneaky. I even caught one kid trying to pee through a hole in the wooden floor of our cabin. But an unlucky few went out behind the cabin- far enough away to urinate in peace, but not nearly as far as the outhouse. There was just one problem with that location. As Mr. Wizard or Bill Nye the Science Guy would tell you, water conducts electricity- and so does pee. When these young fellows would let it flow behind the cabin, they often hit the electric fence. The charge would run up the stream to their body- to one specific appendage- and give them quite a shock! :) It wasn't enough to really hurt them, but it was plenty of juice to wake them up and elicit a good scream. And of course, break the cabin counselors into hysterical laughter. It was a long summer. You found entertainment anywhere you could!


Quaker Lake has undergone a great deal of renovation  and remodeling over the past decade, and I doubt seriously that the electric fence has been "live" in a very long time. But in a world full of advice on how to stay safe and how to avoid injury, I wish to put into writing a policy that should have been handed down many years ago. Don't pee on the electric fence. Words to live by...


Because of Jesus,

Here's To Good Friends...

Happy birthday, Beth! We love you SOOO much!!!

In 1972 I was in the 8th grade. This was before personal computers but after the Apollo 11 moon landing and the world was very different place. That year, a singular event changed the trajectory of my life in a bigger way than anything that happened to me before...or since. There have been more important events to be sure, such as getting married and seeing my son born. But nothing had more of an impact on who I am at age 55 than that one fateful day in 1972. And what happened, you ask? I went roller skating...

My friend Steve Semmler had been inviting me to join him for youth group at New Garden Friends Meeting for a while, but rollerskating sounded fun and Becky Meredith was going to be there- so I was IN! That invitation and that event led me becoming involved with a group of people who carried and guided each other through high school and the years that followed. These were quite literally the people who "showed me the way" in life, in faith and in love. As we grew older the group expanded and changed, with friends of friends becoming so intertwined in our "gang" that it felt as if they had always been there. We continued to meet together, eat together and even take trips together until the early 1990s, by which time so many of my friends had children that it became a little complicated to plan such things. We have remained in touch over the years- some more that others- but time and distance did seem to separate us. Living in Florida while most live in NC, and with all that has happened in my life over the past 20+ years, the distance often felt real to me. And then 2015 happened.

Steve called me from his home in Ohio with a proposition. He, his brother Carl, myself and our spouses would rent a 3 bedroom condo at Ocean Isle Beach, NC- not far from where our friends Beth and Bob owned one. We would then put the word out to the rest of our old youth group and other friends that were going and invite them to join us. Steve booked 2 condos instead of one, and we were off and running. We set September 9-13 as the dates. I built a Facebook page to get the word out. Our former youth leader, Rob, stepped in and offered to offset the cost for everyone. And before we knew it, some 43 years after our first adventure together, about 15 of us were getting ready to do it again. The excitement was palpable. 

But that wasn't the only emotion at work in us. One of our own, the sweet, energetic, feisty and lovely Lisa Ramos Moran, is battling pancreatic cancer. We weren't sure if she would survive until September, much less be able to join us, and some of the air came out of the balloon. There were many texts and phone calls, many prayers and many tears as we worried about Lisa and her family. By late August most of us assumed she wouldn't be able to make the trip as she was confined to a hospital. But our old gang remained united in hope.

One week ago today we took that trip. Very seldom in life can an event with such high expectations actually surpass them, but this one did. We still love each other. We still make each other laugh hysterically. We still enjoy just BEING together. Being at the beach always makes life a bit more special, and the fact that Lisa and her hubby Dan were able to join us for Friday night made it a blessing beyond words. All-in-all, there were 21 of us who were a part of the adventure. The people in the picture at the top were all part of a youth group (along with others who were missing) at a small Quaker church over 40 years ago, and they are still a huge part of each other's lives. That is rare, and it is significant. 

In many ways it is amazing that we stay in touch and all took the time needed to pull off something like this. What is even more amazing is how much we still sincerely love each other. The last night there was lengthy discussion about how often we should try to do a "reunion," with some saying every 5 years, others saying 3 and others every other year. Tammy cut to the chase. She said we need to do it every year, and I backed her up. When others asked why, we simply pointed to our friend Lisa. We are not promised tomorrow, much less 5 years. No one argued. And now, this morning, word reaches us that Lisa has taken a turn for the worse. We may see each other soon under very different circumstances. But as always, the love we share will sustain us.

Life has been tough lately. But more than ever I understand the words of the late Warren Zevon when David Letterman asked what he had learned about life while knowing he was dying- "Enjoy every sandwich." Prayers please, for Lisa, Dan and their family. And for all of us.

Because of Jesus,

#TBT: The Asheboro Flash

Today will begin and end with prayers for a friend that I love very much and who need God's healing touch. Please join me in praying Big Honkin' Prayers for miracles in her life. In the meantime, we enter my 7th year of blogging by "flashing" back to one of my all-time favorite people and a guy I don't get to see much anymore. Enjoy this Throwback Thursday.

That's Alan front and center, flanked by the Semmler brothers in
front of  Danny Hines at one of our classic 80s parties.

There is absolutely no question about the identity of the number one character I ever met at Quaker Lake Camp. It has to be Alan Brown. I met Alan at a winter camp sometime in the mid 1970's. I didn't really hang out with him in those days, but I knew I liked him. Some of my earliest memories of Alan are of him playing guitar and singing Mr. Bojangles with the late Jeff Morgan. I also remember him performing I'm Easy in the Fireplace Room at the lodge (and being overly impressed because I thought he wrote it!). It really wasn't until the summer of 1976 when he was on the QLC staff and I volunteered most of the summer that we became close. My life, and Quaker Lake, would never be the same.

Alan was known in those days as Flash, shortened from The Asheboro Flash. Wallace Sills had given him the name after catching Alan kissing two girls in one night less that an hour apart, and it stuck. There was a whole generation of campers who didn't even know his name was Alan- he was, simply, Flash! But to me, he was my partner in crime. Alan taught me early on in my days at camp that dead time for campers usually led to trouble, and we saw it as our job to entertain, even if only for a five minute lull in the action. We created Opera Day (everything you wanted to say had to be sung) and Chant Day (everything had to be chanted like you some sort of monk) just to pass time. We would sing silly songs and create disturbances to get the kids attention and pull them together. I vividly remember Alan entertaining the troops with a camper named Eric Hunsucker, who could belch on cue. Alan would sing "bright eyes don't cry.." and Eric would let loose with huge "BUUURRRRPPPP!!!" And the other campers would love it.

Alan's influence in my life extended far outside the boundaries of camp. We were at Guilford College together. We were roommates in two different apartments (Hidden Lakes and Chateau at Random Woods) and together with Carl Semmler we spent a month in 1979 travelling across the country. Spending a month together in a Honda Civic will seriously bond people together. We shared so many classic moments together. Here are a few of my favorites:

1) Alan comes to my house early one morning and says on his way into class from his home in Asheboro he has had an idea for a song. Actually, he had almost a whole song, and within the hour Blue Pick-Up Truck was finished.
2) The night before a winter camp was to start we were at my parent's house, where we stayed up all night writing Roll Over Lucy. Unfortunately, when we got up the next morning we could no longer remember the tune! To this day I am still not sure if the way we sang it was the tune we intended...
3) We, along with our friends Mark Hyde and Bill Terrell, loved to play hearts and spades- in fact, I think we could have received advanced degrees in both! There were a few times when we convinced unsuspecting newcomers that we had never played, and allowed them to teach us the games...too much fun!
4) Producing the infamous Four Songs...Two Fools cassette tape for our friend Brent Bill and his son Ben, who was our biggest (read as ONLY) fan. The Animal Song, Blue Pick-Up Truck, Roll Over Lucy and the rarely heard classic We've Got Gas were the songs. No question as to who the fools were...   Another time we came up with this card game called Triple Jim Bob, which had no rules except that you had to make up the rules as you went along. Alan and I would baffle people with ridiculous rules and names for the different situations in the game. It was great seeing how long it would take people to catch on that we were making it up as we went! Both Triple Jim Bob and a character very much based on Alan make appearances in the novel I finished earlier this year.

I guess you get the idea...we were dangerous together. I can't even begin to tell you how much I miss him. There have been others in my life with whom I could get wild and creative (Jerry Hanbery comes to mind) but no one else quite like Alan. I will never forget walking from the lodge to the boy's cabins, late at night,and stopping to salute the flag post (actually a light pole!) and singing the Quaker Lake Alma Mater:

In the city of Climax, past the Climax Mall, there's a place where campers visit and never return at all. Quaker Lake is quite a place to spend a week or two, but never press your luck with others or they might do unto you...

Through the tough times, the great times, the silly times and our Sunday afternoon conversations about the campers we were about to spend a week with, Alan was always there. I just hope someday we get to do a farewell concert featuring We've Got Gas and The Parakeet Song...

Because of Jesus,

You Are My Sunshine

I am a very blessed man in many ways, but perhaps the greatest blessing in my life has been the gift of friendship. My old friends are plentiful and wonderful. There are friends from my own youth group days at New Garden Friends Meeting who should have given up on me years ago- but didn't! I have high school and college friends who are still part of my life. My days at Quaker Lake Camp connected me with campers and staff who have stayed in my life as we have all grown up- or at least pretended to! My work at various churches left me with dozens of adult friends and hundreds of former youth who are now adults, many of whom are still a very active and important part of my life. My dear friend Lisa is one of the lights of my life. And Marilyn and Will are not only family, they are my friends- the best and strongest kind. Old friends are the best!

Over the past few days this has become more apparent than ever to me as several old friends who had been absent from my life for a while reappeared with a wonderful flurry of activity. It was so great to have them back; but it was also like they had never been gone. That's how it is with old friends. They can move in and out of our lives seamlessly without truly losing the connection we share. It is such a great gift. 

But regretfully, there are partings along the way. There are people we lose track of, either for short periods of time or because life leads us in different directions. Saying goodbye is never easy. Letting go is often hard. Back in 1982 I was working at QLC and thinking a lot about saying goodbye to a wonderful group of high school campers (one of whom gave me the mug pictured at top) that I didn't know if I would ever see again. At that time I wrote a song that was never sung in public. It began and ended with the chorus of the old standard, "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. You'll never know dear, how much I love you, so please don't take my sunshine away." Last night I found myself humming that, and suddenly the words I wrote back in '82 were fresh in my mind. I share some of them here today- my ode to old friends.

People come and people go through a life like mine

You never know just who you can count on

But whenever I reach out for you you always seem to hear me

And you take time to shine your light my way

The thought had never crossed my mind that I could lose you

'Cause I don't think I could ever let you go

But now I see that we could have to say goodbye and mean it

The pain is real and it just won't go away

CHORUS: I wish that I could find the words

To say how much I love you

I wish that I could know that this really isn't the end

There must be 1000 ways to explain the things that I'm feeling

And to let you know that you'll always have a friend...

I know I've sometimes let you down, I know I've sometimes failed you

But you have always loved me anyway

We've shared some special moments and some special people

I just won't believe that our time has come to an end

But the time will come again when we will walk this trail together

It's part of our past, but yet it takes us home

And even if the sunshine becomes just the flicker of a candle

It still gives us hope that we'll never be alone!

Old songs are much like old friends. They take us back to times of joys and sorrow, times of jubilation and frustration. And they remind us that we are loved. Sometimes we misplace them, but real friends are never really lost to us. Where there is love, there is always hope. My old friends- the ones still present in my life and the ones I have misplaced- are indeed my sunshine. They give me courage, hope, love and support when skies are gray and when the sun is brightest. I hope they know how much I love them. And I thank God every day for never "taking my sunshine away." Have a blessed day, dear ones!

Throwback Thursday: The Orange Jacket

Summer (and summer heat!) always take me back to the wonderful summers that I spent on the staff of Quaker Lake Camp in Climax, NC. It was an honor, a privilege and a great learning experience- and also a place where I met a great number of people I still dearly love. Every now and then it just feels right to share this post again. Today was one of those days. Have a great Throwback Thursday!

Every professional golfer dreams of winning the Masters. Winning that tournament once makes your entire career a success. Money, fame and glory are yours. But ask any pro golfer what really matters about winning the Masters and they will all tell you the same thing- the green jacket. The green jacket is unique. Only Master's winners can wear them. After one Master's champion wore his jacket on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno several years ago Jon Stewart was quoted as saying, "that's the first piece of original material on The Tonight Show since Johnny left!" The green jacket is special, and if you aspire to golf greatness you aspire to wear the green jacket.

I suppose I was about 15 when I became obsessed with the Orange Jacket (That's me modeling the classic style at top). I was serving at Quaker Lake Camp as a Counselor in Training (later to be called Counselor Assistant) when I became aware of the prestige of it. On Friday night, when it came time to walk to the Campfire Circle, the QLC summer staff almost all wore their orange windbreakers that said Quaker Lake Staff Camp. It was actually a circle that said Quaker Lake on top, and Camp on the bottom with Staff in the middle. But when you looked at it, it seemed to say Quaker Lake Staff Camp. In any case, they were cool. And the ONLY way you could have one was to be one of 14 people hired to be full-time summer staff. I knew I wanted to work at QLC someday. The staff were the coolest people in the world in my eyes, and I longed to be one of them. And I worked hard to get to that point. I volunteered every chance I got, went to all the camps and events I could, and made sure I had a good reputation with the people in charge. The first year you are eligible to work staff is the summer after your high school graduation, and so I applied in the summer of '77. Everyone thought I would be hired, but all four boys counselors- Bill Terrell, Alan Brown, Roland Pugh and Joseph Neal- returned from the previous year (Not only do I remember who they were, but I believe I have them in order, cabins 1-4! And yet I can't remember what my wife told me to get at Wal-Mart today...). So I didn't get a job, even though they should have hired me as the Assistant Cook (would have saved a lot of "Robin Pots"). Neal Thomas told me I could volunteer any week I wanted to, so I was there 6 out of 8 weeks that summer. I loved it, and I felt like part of the staff. But I didn't have an Orange Jacket...

I was hired the next summer for the first of my 6 years as summer staff and the highlight came early, when Lewis Farlow came from Beeson's in High Point and I could order my Orange Jacket. This was real. This was amazing. I had achieved my goal. I was special. I was the counselor in Boys Cabin 1. Even though the jacket was paper thin and no help in the rain, and made me sweat like a pig, I wore it every chance I got. And I knew that all the campers who aspired to do the same, to have their own Orange Jacket, looked at me with awe and envy.

The trouble with all of that was this- wearing an Orange Jacket, or working at QLC, did not make me special. When you are a camper, you believe every counselor is a hero and a saint. When you become a counselor, you wonder "how can they hire someone like me?" You continue to fail and make mistakes. As the years passed many of my former youth went on to work at camp and I happen to know none of them are perfect!  I loved my years working at camp, just like I loved my years in student ministry, but I have to tell you- you'd better love those jobs to do them or you will be miserable. Anyone who worked at camp for the glory and admiration of the campers was in for a long summer. Anyone who did it for the money in those days- well, they were just stupid! You put up with the heat, the long hours, the rotten campers (no one likes to talk about them, but they exist!), the outdoor toilets and the total lack of sleep because you felt like you were doing something tremendous, something amazing for the kids each and every week. Every week you faced a new group of campers, and every week you had to give them all of your energy and love, with no holding back for the weeks still to come. You had to do work like that because you love it and because God has called you to it, or it will eat you alive. You see, it's not Quaker Lake Staff Camp. Camp is all about the campers- and if you didn't get that, then no Orange Jacket could save you.

I don't remember exactly when the staff quit wearing Orange Jackets, but it has been a very long time. Today I think they have staff shirts, but I am sure the feeling is the same among campers- I want to wear one of those someday. And that is awesome! I just hope they all learn, like so many others before them, that working at QLC does not make you special. It simply gives you the opportunity to do special things in the name of God. Being a part of the QLC family was, and is, a blessing. It is the same with being a youth pastor. Billy Joel once wrote I never claimed to be a hero and I never said I was a saint... If I did either of those things I apologize. But how smart were we in those days, anyway? After all, we wore Orange Jackets in public!

Because of Jesus,

Country Swamps

Camp Staff, 1980...I think!

Lately some chats with old friends, some long lost old pictures and some Facebook love for a group photo we shared from 1983 have made me more nostalgic than usual for Quaker Lake Camp. So today, like it or not, you get another QLC flashback. And what better way to celebrate camp than by remembering Country Swamps...

Quaker Lake was always an interesting place to be in the late 70's and early 80's. Camp was a very rustic setting- if by rustic you mean old and often broken down! The lake itself, once the center of camp life, had been replaced by a pool and was no longer fit to swim in (unless, of course, you were fully dressed and going against in your will!). Not only that, the algae was so thick that in the heat of summer the lake could actually appear to be RED. There was no air conditioning anywhere; when it rained hard, the hill in front of the lodge turned into a mudslide; and one summer the sewage system backed up and the smell was often overwhelming. Plus, out behind the winter cabins on the way to the boys side of the lake the "leakage" often made the ground squishy and nasty. All of this, along with crazed campers, long hours and a lack of caffeine often made the summer staff a bit loopy. And yet, we LOVED the place because the people made it so special. From those feelings a song was born. I often get credit for writing it, but the fact is I had nothing to do with it. I just performed it a 1000 times later on, so it is associated with me. It was written by a class full of campers led by Martha Ratledge Farlow and Alan Brown, with one of the campers being the legendary Jay Wilkins. Most of the references are self-explanatory, but I will tell you that Climax is the name of the tiny little town where QLC is located (go ahead and snicker, we always did!),"Red-Eye Dick" was a ghost story about camp we used to tell (before we got them banned!) and that the doors of the old cabins slammed with a volume you just can't imagine! So here are the lyrics to Country Swamps, the only song from the infamous Project Myrtle to ever actually make it onto an official camp song sheet! It is sung to the tune of Take Me Home, Country Roads by the late John Denver (a song that would later become a favorite sing-a-long with groups I took skiing in West Virginia some 20 years after this). Everybody sing!

Almost heaven, Climax suburbs
Blue Ridge swampland
Summer camp at Quaker Lake
The staff is old there
older than the trees
Aged by all those campers no higher
than their knees

CHORUS
Country Swamps, let me go
I’ve had enough as you should know, wo-wo-wo
Climax suburbs, outside of the Food Rite (original lyrics- the Bi-Rite)
Country Swamps, let me go

All my memories of all those mudslides
and Red-Eye Dick still lingers in my mind
Going to the bath house
at 3 o’clock in the morn
Stepping on a black snake
wishing I wasn’t born

CHORUS

I hear the bell in the morning
as it rings so loud
Shuttin’ off my alarm clock
saying "let’s go back to bed"
When suddenly I hear the noise
Of little footsteps running all around the floor
And slamming the door...

CHORUS

Now, don't you feel better? I know I do! Have a wonderful weekend, my friends!

#TBT: Ten Random Quaker Lake Camp Memories

My mind has been on Quaker Lake Camp a lot lately (I'm working on something special, so stay tuned!) and so this seemed like an obvious choice for a Throwback Thursday! In my 6 years as a full-time member of the Quaker Lake staff (1978-83) there were hundreds of moments that made me laugh. Here are ten of the most memorable (I left out so much, like Gail Steelman ambushing Neal Thomas, seen here!); all names are maiden names, including the guys!

10) My first week as a camper at QLC I was sleeping comfortably in my top bunk in Boys Cabin 1 when suddenly I was awakened by loud noises, giggles, and the feeling of water soaking my bed and sleeping bag. And not just me- our entire cabin had been attacked. It was a sneak attack that rivaled Pearl Harbor, brilliantly executed and very successful. There was only one problem. The water balloons tossed at our screens by the girls in question (including some people I love dearly- TAMMY...) destroyed those screens, knocking them out completely. It was all fun and games until breakfast the next morning when new camp director Neal Thomas went totally ballistic over the damage done and forced the girls to repair the screens. So it was one of those rare pranks where, in the end, everyone got to laugh at everyone else!

9) There was no air conditioning at QLC, so floor fans and window fans were very important, especially when you were trying to sleep. The girls' staff cabin, where the cooks and female lifeguards lived, was no exception. One particular night we came into possession of a 50 pound bag of dried mashed potato flakes that some mice had gotten into, so they could not be used. We waited until the middle of the night, slid a window fan to the side, and started throwing flakes through the window! As they went in, the multitude of fans began to blow the flakes all over the cabin. They woke up the next morning buried under 50 pounds of potato flakes! Snow in July!

8) David Fields, as a 4th grade camper, singing Home On the Range. "Oh give me a................HOME!" Also his famous line at dinner: "This is not Del Monte corn. I taste Del Monte corn when I taste it!"

7) My cabin of guys snuck over to the girls cabins in the early morning hours to lock in the campers of Beth Grantham's cabin. Our usual plan consisted of locking them in and singing to them, thus waking them up and causing some of them to need to use the rest room- which was located OUTSIDE the cabins! As they woke up and began screaming at us, Beth said to one of my guys "You just wait until I tell Carl Jones you are out of your cabin!" I laughed and responded "Good morning, Beth!" She forgave me about a week later...

6) On Saturday mornings one particular summer Ronnie Osborne and a very young Doug Thomas would ride around in the classic old QLC truck and empty the garbage cans dressed as Trashman and Garbage Boy! It was such a hoot to watch the parents arriving to pick up their kids try to figure our what was going on...

5) Before we knew sun tanning was bad, people used to wear oil (SPF Negative 50!) to actually attract the sun. Susan McBane was using such an oil- until Carl Semmler (the king of pranks!) substituted bacon grease from breakfast in her oil bottle. It looked the same, and she rubbed it all over her, but after a few minutes the smell started to get to her. Her response: "Oh wow, I think this oil is cankered!" A classic moment.

4) A few us were walking by the guys outhouse one afternoon when we heard the familiar voice of Lindley Osborne singing The All Day Song while sitting on the toilet. Just as we passed the door we heard "and in the in between time when you feel the pressure coming..." And we lost it! We also once lost Lindley for hours when he took a nap on a third level bunk in the back of the lodge and didn't tell anyone. We searched everywhere...

3) Head Cook Denise May and her assistant spent hours hand writing a huge chart for the kitchen with a measurement list- things like 4 Quarts=1 Gallon. Hours after they posted it, two unnamed culprits came along and wrote on the bottom 2 Cooks=1 Disaster! Denise is still mad. (Bonus: Name the 2 culprits!)

2) Alan Brown and I had written a silly song about animals dying and we premiered it at camp. We dedicated it to fellow staffer Martha Ratledge, and then finished the song with this chorus:

Isn't it a sad day, when all the animals die

There ain't nothing to do

Isn't it a sad day, when all the animals die

Why can't you die too?

It was so off the wall and so unexpected, everyone just burst into laughter. A great moment! And as always (and she needed to quite often!) Martha forgave us.

1) I had a cabin of guys for a number of years who not only came to camp together but went to school together as well. They would spend the "off-season" planning for camp, and one year they came armed with elaborate paper shooters. They would fold bits of paper and fire them at each other, leaving marks whenever they hit. One night, it was late and we had been loud, and when Neal came by for cabin check he had told us no more noise. So as David Fields, David Hockett, Robert Osborne and the rest lay in their beds, all was quiet. Until I heard this- Zing!....POP....Owwww!!!!!!!! There would be snickers, more quiet, and then a repeat. Over and over again, until, to keep from laughing, I yelled at them "ENOUGH!" Quiet set in for a minute, and then I heard a loud thump, followed by the all-time classic line "Carl- David just hit me with his saxophone!" I lost it laughing! I loved those guys...

So there you have it. If you were never a part of the QLC family then I hope this flashback makes you wish you had been. And if you were- what did I leave out? I truly hope you get a feel for how special those years were to me. 

Because of Jesus,

Flashback Friday: The Other Carl

Welcome to another Flashback Friday. The group of people in this picture have been on my mind a lot lately, so this is a very natural flashback. It's good to have you along for the ride...

Those of you who are familiar with this blog will be aware of the name Carl Semmler (at right with a bunch of other famous people- he's the groom!). Carl and I grew up going to school together and he worked as a lifeguard at Quaker Lake Camp for several summers when I was also on staff. But most importantly he, Alan Brown and I took a month long cross country trip in May of 1979. He has been featured in several stories here previously, including his work on the infamous Project Myrtle and the legend of the Ash Tray Kid. Today I want to remember a few more.

When we were in high school our New Garden Friends youth group attended a gathering of local Quaker youth groups called a Quarterly Meeting. We knew almost no one else there, and realized quickly that some of the other groups were a good bit more "religious" than we were. After some gathering time, we were seated in a circle, with the groups sitting together. The leader said we were going to go around the circle and introduce ourselves, and from where they started there were maybe 7 or 8 youth who would go before our first representative, Carl. The first person began by telling their name, church and the exact day and time they had been "saved." This was not a word we had in our spiritual vocabulary. We talked about "walking in the Light" and being on a "spiritual journey," not about THE day we met Jesus. As each person followed the same pattern, we grew more uncomfortable and wondered what Carl would say. When his turn arrived, he kept it simple: "I'm Carl Semmler from New Garden, and I play basketball." The pressure was immediately off the rest of us, and we were very grateful to Carl for his courage to say only what he knew to be true at the time.

Carl was a master prank player at QLC (although he and Mark Farlow were the recipients of maybe the greatest prank ever, when the Dentiste twins and Emily Ballus went in their room in the lodge and stringed it, making it look like one of those laser systems thieves have to avoid in the movies. They then put molasses on the string and hung extremely stinky lake weed all over the room. It was a classic!). One summer Carl had decided to try a nasty and daring prank on one of the female staff members who used a shampoo that was dark and gooey- much like pancake syrup! He thought he would replace her shampoo with syrup and see what would happen. Unfortunately for Carl, this was the summer the "no wasteful pranks" rules went into effect, so he could not use syrup. He spent all summer trying to make his own, boiling down tree bark to get sap and hoping for a miracle. He did not get one, but he did manage to ruin a perfectly good pot from the kitchen in the process. Ah, what might have been...

Carl, Alan and I began our trip out west by leaving Greensboro for Chattanooga and Carl's Uncle Ronnie's house. We left in my Dad's Honda Civic wagon that we called Clyde, and we were loaded down with camping gear, luggage and a tin of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies given to us by Martha Ratledge. For reasons I no longer remember, we went from NC to TN by way of Atlanta. We hit Atlanta around afternoon rush hour, and Alan was driving while Carl was asleep in the back seat. He awoke to find us in the middle of a traffic jam, and greeted us with the following words: "No rush guys, but I need to find a bathroom." Less than a minute later he was throwing up all over the back seat. Desperate for damage control, I dumped some (but not all) Martha's cookies on the floor and handed him the tin to barf in- but it was no use. We finally worked our way off of the interstate and to a gas station, where we cleaned up the car- but the smell was unbearable. The first day of a month long trip and Carl had totaled the interior of Clyde. Lacking anything else (and apparently common sense as well) we used my Gillette Foamy Lemon-Lime shaving creme on the vinyl seats to try and mask the smell. The result was a smell never before or since found in this world or any other. We made it to Chattanooga and begged Uncle Ronnie to keep Carl, but he refused, and so we carried on without further incident. In fairness to Carl (and Alan) it should be pointed out that there was also a time on that trip when they saved my life. I was trapped in Clyde by a demonic windshield wiper as the car burned and we teetered on the edge of the Grand Canyon. Or at least that's their story...

My life- and therefore this blog- has been filled with extraordinary people. Carl Semmler is one of those them...even if he did make us waste some perfectly good cookies! Thanks for the memories, Carl!

Because of Jesus,

Throwback Thursday: In the Beginning

Over the course of my 28 years in youth ministry I was blessed to work with many amazing teenagers and adults who were a part of a wide variety of exciting student ministries. Choosing "the best this" or "my favorite that" has been part of this blog since its inception, and those are very subjective awards that change in my mind from day-to-day. But labeling the group that started me down the road to my calling as a youth pastor is much easier and much more concrete. It was the summer of 1978 (I was 18), my first official year on staff at Quaker Lake Camp. The second week of camp was a Junior High Camp, and for 6 amazing days the guys in my cabin and the girls they were "in love" with became my family. We laughed, we cried, we got in trouble and we loved each other & Jesus. They were, in every way that really matters, my first youth group. The fact that this picture (taken with a classic Polaroid camera) still exists is a testament to what they meant to me:

I confess that I do not remember every name anymore. But many of them I will never forget. The bonds between us grew even stronger a few weeks after this picture was taken when one of them (Robin Davis) was killed in a car wreck and we all came together to grieve and remember her sweet life. The relationships we formed that summer lasted many years, and some of them are still my friends. For a variety of reasons, several of them have been on my mind and in my prayers in recent weeks. And today seemed like a really good day to tell them all how much they still mean to me.

It's been over 36 years since that week of camp. And despite all that has transpired in the years that followed, I still maintain that stealing the girl's suitcases from their cabin and hiding them in the cornfield was a really, really funny prank. No matter how mad they got...

Because of Jesus,

Quaker Lake & The Arkansas Guarantee

The Flash & I at work...

It's a Flashback Friday...

During my many years of working on the staff and volunteering at Quaker Lake Camp different areas of the campus came to mean different things to me. For instance, the pool was the pulse of the camp, the place where you could get a feel for the excitement level. The lodge was the nerve center (and the stomach!), the place to discover what was going on and get interesting (Tuna Cheesies!) grub. The Vespers Hill and the Campfire Circle were definitely the soul and spirit, the places where we took time to worship God. The softball field was where the action was, and where many a camp week ended in hugs and tears. (In a side note, the softball field, as every Quaker Laker knew, was the place to go if anything at camp caught on fire. This led to the weekly question, no matter the age of the campers, that drove Neal crazy- "Where do we go if the softball field is on fire?" You know, I still don't know the answer...) But for me, in my years at QLC, the heart of the place was the Craft Hut. Every day, no matter the weather, no matter the age group, class after class of campers came to the craft hut to make ceramics (beautiful and hideous!) and various other crafts. And day after day you could find me at the same place- the Leather Tables. 

The Leather Tables were a few old picnic tables just outside the Craft Hut. There we would sit and help campers use stamps to pound their names and designs into leather bracelets, key chains, sun visors and more. We would stain them in different shades of brown, green, blue and our favorite, Antique Oxblood! We would polish them with Carnuba (sp?) Cream, which we were delighted to discover contained whale sperm as one of its ingredients! The jokes were never ending. And we would put these trinkets together, pounding cheap little rivets with a wooden hammer, or, once you became a master (lol), with THE hammer. Most days at the Leather Tables were relaxed and lazy. We talked about life, told jokes, and listened to the great music coming from the stereo in the Craft Hut. We would put off actually assembling the leather pieces until the end of each week. And at the end of the class we would offer the campers The Arkansas Guarantee. (Why Arkansas? I was still reeling from a disastrous vacation there, and it just seemed like a place where a lot of things would break...) To the best of my memory, the guarantee was first offered by Alan Brown (The Asheboro Flash) and Bill Terrell when I was still a volunteer. But it was after I started working with Alan at the tables in 1978 that it became a regular event. The Arkansas Guarantee was a sure thing in an unsure world. It simply stated that "in the event that your Quaker Lake leather goods fall apart or otherwise break, you get to keep all the pieces!" It was a helpful promise, because almost every item ever assembled at the Leather Tables did indeed break. Knowing that this was going to happen, and that it was still OK, was somehow very comforting to the campers and staff who had toiled on these exquisite leather goods.

My life has not been much different than those leather wrist bands I used to hammer together. I know I am going to break things, because I always do. I know even the simple things can get complicated. But fortunately, life comes with its own Arkansas Guarantee. His name is Jesus. When life falls apart, when things break down, we can turn to Him, and he helps us keep all the pieces...and even better, put them back together! In Matthew 11:28 Jesus says "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." I know Jesus was a carpenter by trade, but somehow I can see him hanging out at the Leather Tables, under the shade tree, offering the guarantee to any camper who needed it. And we all need it.

So next time you feel "broken," go to the One who was broken for you. There you will find rest for your weary soul...there you will be made whole. But if you find the softball field on fire, I guess you are on your own...

Because of Jesus,

A Birthday Triple Play

Sometimes you can KNOW something for years without ever truly being AWARE of it. It is not new knowledge to me that three of my friends, from three different eras of my life, were born on September 10th. What had never really occurred to me, however, is that ALL three of them were born on September 10th. That makes this a much more special day than I had ever realized. It's a birthday triple play!

Lisa Ramos Moran has been in my life so long that I don't actually remember when we met. It was probably junior high school, but it could have been earlier and it may have been a bit later. Lisa became a part of the New Garden Friends Meeting youth group around the same time I did (1972), and we shared many friends and many adventures. Everyone who was part of that group has a special place in my heart, and Lisa is no different. We were together on a New York trip in high school when she met the love her life, Dan Moran. They have been married 30 years now and have an amazing family. She has given her life to ministry and the service of others and is making a huge difference in the lives of so many young people. Lisa and I shared one special bond in high school, one little tradition that has never been forgotten. Anytime we would see each other we offered up this loving greeting- I would say "RAM IT Ramos!" and she would respond, "JAM IT Jones!" Now that's love. Happy birthday, Lisa. For the next few weeks, you are as old as I am!

Leigh Ann Everhart Venable was a camper at Quaker Lake Camp my first summer as a counselor in 1978. The first thing I remember about Leigh Ann was seeing her in the swimming pool on Sunday afternoon and thinking to myself that she could not possibly be a camper- she looked too old. The second thing I remember was eavesdropping on a conversation she was having with Cynthia Davis about a party one of them had been to. So I was able to embarrass her right off the bat! We became good friends that week, even surviving a prank where my guys stole her suitcase and hid it in a corn field.That closeness continued when we mourned the loss of another camper in car wreck later that summer. She was later with me when I drove a van from NC to NYC and helped keep me calm in the madness. There was also a legendary 6 hour brain game on the way back- but I will spare her the humiliation of saying WHY it took so long! As the years passed, we remained friends, and eventually worked together on the QLC staff. For reasons that cannot be rationally explained she married my good friend Terry Venable 29 years ago and I was honored to be in their wedding just as Terry was later in ours. Shortly after we left Springfield Friends Meeting, Terry became the pastor there and Leigh Ann and I struck a deal. If I didn't tell anyone at SFM any stories about her, she wouldn't tell any about me. It was a pact we each gladly honored.  When anyone first met Leigh Ann back in those QLC days their immediate response was to comment on her beauty. Once you got to know her you realized that the beauty ran clear to the bone- and it still does. Happy birthday, Leigh Ann! And notice I am not mentioning any numbers...

Todd Willis was a junior in high school when Marilyn and I arrived in Kissimmee in 1994. He was the son of the senior pastor and an important part of that group. He immediately became one of my favorite people, despite accidently telling us to "GET OUTA TOWN!" on our third night in Florida. He cheated at every game we ever played; he had terrible luck with the ladies; and he was a leader in helping to bring that group back from the edge of extinction. When I was going to wait a tear before planning a New York trip, he pestered me to do in his senior year- and I did. His lovely wife Kristin has told me she feels like she was on that trip because she has heard his stories so many times. He visited us in Chicago right before his wedding. He has been a huge support to me through all of my trials, writing a beautiful letter for me that carried extra weight because he is an attorney. He and his family have recently moved back to Florida, and we cannot wait to hang with them again soon. Happy birthday, Todd! And don't cheat blowing out the candles...

Three wonderful people. Three birthdays. Three eras. Lisa and Leigh Ann know each other through Quaker circles, but neither of them know Todd. Celebrating with them reminds me how varied and blessed my life has been. And while they were part of my life at different times, we have a shared faith that binds us- and we'll always have New York! I am so blessed to know each of them. May this day be full of joy and blessings in their honor!!!

Because of Jesus,

30/30: Immeasurable Impact

Youth group beach trip, circa 1974. Steve is 2nd from left; I am far right.

Today the 30/30 Vision Blog Challenge offers the following prompt: Write about one person (NOT a family member) who has had an influence on your life. There are so many people, so many influences, so many possibilities. But after a few minutes of just sitting and thinking, the choice was easy. And it goes back a long, long time...

For about as long as I can remember I knew about this guy named Steve Semmler. We began going to school together in 1st grade, and even though we were never in the same class I knew of him. In the 4th grade I had his mom as a reading teacher and I heard stories about him quite often, but I still didn't really know him. In 6th grade we began having some classes together and we got along well. In 7th grade he ran for student body president and I ran for VP, and we talked about how cool it would be to run the school together. He won; I lost. But a friendship was born. In the 8th grade we had most all of our classes together, and along with Darryl Richards (Pee-Wee) really had our run of Guilford Middle School. Just as a quick example, the principal (Howard Cross) once pulled the 3 of us out of classes for an entire day so we could was the school activity bus. Things like that happened all the time. We began to hang out outside of school and discovered a shared love of "different" music (such as Hurricane Smith, Neil Diamond, Gilbert O'Sullivan and the Beach Boys) and mutual tastes in many things. As time went by his home became my second home and his family my second family. We shared dreams and struggles. I helped him sort through the plethora of females trying to gain his attention. Our families went to the beach together in later years. We were often inseparable. But there were 2 things he did in those earliest days- 2 very important things- that set Steve apart from the other great influences in my life. 

Sometime early in our 8th grade year (1972-73) Steve invited me to a roller skating night with his youth group at New Garden Friends Meeting. My family had quit going to church a number of years before and I had no real connection to any group. He told me lots of great things about the leaders and the people, but there was only one selling point needed. You see, there was this girl...  She would be there, and so I was going to be as well! That group and that place changed my life forever. They loved and supported me through high school and beyond and are still doing it today. My spiritual foundation was built there. My love of that group led directly to my own career in youth ministry. That invitation was the beginning of a new life for me that might otherwise have never happened. That invitation and that girl. We never dated, by the way...

In the summer after 7th grade Steve had invited me to go to summer camp with him at a place called Quaker Lake. I couldn't go because of baseball commitments, but when he asked again after 8th grade I was in, along with several other members of our youth group. If you have read this blog or know me even a little bit, you know what Quaker Lake means to me. My years a a camper taught me so much about God and about faith; my years as a staff member were the backbone of my student ministry days. It was Steve who got me there; it was Steve who kept me going those first few years. For that I am forever grateful. 

Those two acts of simple invitation literally made me who I am today. Over the past few weeks I have visited with two other members of that old New Garden youth group, and we are all in agreement that it there is no way to overvalue what that group meant to our lives. We have all found ourselves praying as the years past that our own children would encounter a group of friends that are anything like the ones we had. Without Steve I would not have been a part of that family- and I would be much the worse for it. Without Quaker Lake I might have never realized God's call to youth ministry in my life and had 28 wonderful years trying to give back to students the love and support I had felt as a teenager. Two simple invitations. Two life changing experiences. God is so often in the small stuff.

Steve Semmler changed my life forever over 40 years go, and he is still doing it today. That is the very definition of "influence." I am so honored to call him my friend. Long live Hurricane Smith!

Because of Jesus,

Quaker Lake Flashbacks

From 1978 until 1983 I spent my summers working at a summer camp. I loved that job and have so many great memories. However...looking back I sometimes question my sanity. Long days, short nights, no air conditioning, no carbonated beverages and only one night a week to do anything else doesn't sound like anything a normal young adult would choose to do. And yet we considered it both a blessing and an honor to work there, as have so many others since then. Sometime in the late 1980's I stole from Jimmy Buffet and parodied his song We Are the People Our Parents Warned Us About for a Quaker Lake Camp reunion event that never happened. I have always thought the song expressed a little bit of the craziness that came with working at Quaker Lake. The song is now WAY out of date; instead of Neal, I could say Heather and instead of the campers are the staff it could read "now the campers kids are the staff."  Everyone who has ever worked at QLC can identify with the spirit of the song, if not the particulars, because to survive working there you have to LOVE it. And it helped if you were just a little bit crazy...

I was supposed to have been a computer wiz or a naval academy grad (HA!)

That was the way that my parents perceived me, those were the plans that they had

But I couldn't fit the part, too dumb? Or too smart? Ain't it funny how we all turned out

I guess we are the people our parents warned us about

I could have worked at Pizza Inn, or Sears, or McD's, 
but instead I worked at Quaker Lake

It did permanent mental damage, the campers wouldn't give me a break

Now those campers are the staff and I just have to laugh
 'cause I know that it's so easy to see

That they're all demented, just like we taught them to be!

We are the people, they still can't figure out

We are the people, our parents warned us about

Hey, hey, Neal what do you say? Let me come back to Quaker Lake with you

Blue skies and the sun shining high, playing on lake so blue...well, green...
I've see it red!

Now I've got quarters in my loafers trying to fight inflation 
when it only used to take a cent

What happened to my Quaker Lake pension; now even my dog is for rent

But still I miss that crazy place, it put a smile on my face

and I'll never be normal again

'Cause I love tuna cheesies, and singing Ba-Ba-Barbara Ann!

We are the people, there isn't any doubt

We are the people our parents warned us about

We are the people who make you do a double take

We are the people who use to work at Quaker Lake

So here's to all the crazies without whom my life would have never been the same! The early Christians were like that- people thought they were either crazy or demon possessed. There is something about living life in the Light of Christ that makes us all a little dangerous- may we always be those people!

Because of Jesus,