Remember the days you've spent here.
Remember when you're away.
Remember the friends you've made here
And don't forget to, come back someday.
Remember the circling oak trees
The fun and frolic too,
For you girls belong to Cedarmore
And Cedarmore belongs to you.
It's been 50 years since I attended Camp Cedarmore outside of Louisville, Kentucky. As a nine year old, I went for a week, and the memories have never faded. As a seventeen year old, I returned to spend the summer as a counselor. Each week, a new group of little nine year olds would arrive to fill my cabin. Those weeks were most definitely stepping stones on my journey to becoming a teacher.
A few summers ago I decided to try my hand at writing a children's book. I have always enjoyed writing in verse, but never really tried anything else. My memories of Cedarmore were so vivid I decided to build my first attempt around them. Since my blog has become a repository for my writings, I have decided to share installments of my book here. For those of you who've been to camp, it may just bring back a memory or two. I hope you enjoy The Katie Chronicles.
Chapter 1 - Broken Plans
“But why, Mom?” Katie whined. “Why do I have to spend the summer at a dumb ol’ camp? Mazie and I had plans. We were gonna start a club for the little kids. I was gonna be president and Mazie . . .”
“I’m sorry, Katie,” Mom interrupted. “I know how much you and Mazie enjoy being together, but I have to go to school this summer, and Dad’s new job is going to keep him out of town a lot. Camp Wickamonga is a great camp, and I know you’ll have fun if you give it half a chance.”
Half a chance, Katie thought as she stomped up the stairs to her room. No chance! There’s no way I’m going to like it. I can’t believe my parents are doing this to me. You spend the whole school year waiting for summer, making plans, and in a second, it’s all taken away. It just isn’t fair!
But fair or not, Katie’s fate was sealed. The next few days were spent in a frenzy of last minute shopping. The camp had sent a list detailing all the items each camper would need to bring. Mom and Katie spent an afternoon at Target purchasing flip-flops for the shower, insect repellant, blue jeans and t-shirts. In the evenings, Mom sewed little white nametags in the back of Katie’s underwear. (It was a camp rule.)
Like I’m going to lose my underwear, Katie thought. I’m ten years old, and as far back as I can remember, I’ve never once lost a single pair! “Stupid camp!”
* * * * *
The day before Katie left for camp, Mazie came to spend the afternoon. The two girls rode their bikes down to the grocery store and bought IBC Root Beer and bags of Skittles, then headed for their hideout in the woods behind Katie’s house. It wasn’t actually a hideout, rather a large overgrown bush that grew behind Katie’s garage. The summer before, the girls had discovered a large hollow space beneath its overhanging limbs. They had furnished the space with two miniature Adirondack chairs and a plastic crate which they had turned upside down to use as a table. Once inside, they sipped their sodas and complained about the injustice of it all.
“If only my mom wasn’t pregnant,” said Mazie, “Then you could stay with us while your mom is in school, but Mom hasn’t been feeling well and the doctor says she has to get plenty of rest. Dad says I have to be ‘Mom’s little helper’ all summer. I almost wish I was going to camp with you.”
“Yeah, well anything would be better than camp, but promise you’ll write and tell me everything that happens.”
“I’ll write,” promised Mazie, “but I don’t think much will be happenin’ while you’re away.”
As the shadows lengthened, the girls headed for home. When they reached the corner, Mazie waved and headed off toward her house. “See ya in August,” she yelled over her shoulder.”
“Yeah, if I don’t get devoured by insects,” Katie replied.
Chapter 2 - Camp Arrival
Katie awakened to the smell of bacon and the sounds of the Today Show in the kitchen. Her mom couldn’t start the day without a dose of Matt Lauer and Meredith Viera. Katie entered the kitchen as Meredith and some expert were discussing six ways to be sure the summer camp you have chosen is safe for your child. Katie eyed her Mom and seized the moment.
“Did you hear that, Mom? They just said some camps aren’t safe. Each year thousands of campers injure themselves in accidents due to poorly trained staff and lack of supervision. Why, I could break an arm or a leg, be maimed for life. Have you given any thought to that?”
“Now, Katie,” Mom said as she handed Katie a glass of juice and turned to flip the pancakes on the griddle. “You don’t think your Dad and I would send you to just any camp, do you? We’ve researched it well and have talked to other parents whose children have gone there. Camp Wickamonga has one of the highest safety records in the country and has won awards for the quality experiences children receive there. I know you’re a little nervous about going, but I’m certain you are going to have a wonderful time.”
The back door slammed as Katie’s dad came in from the garage.
“Alrighty then,” he said. “The car is all packed and we’ll hit the road as soon as I’ve had some of Mom’s famous blueberry pancakes and a strip or two of that bacon. There’s nothin’ like home cookin’ to start you on your way!”
“If home cookin’ is so great, why are you sending me off to camp? We'll probably have beans for breakfast, beans for lunch, and beans for dinner, everyday.”
“Now, Katie,” her mom said as she glared at Katie’s dad. “We’ve already been over this. Let’s enjoy a pleasant breakfast and try to have a positive attitude.”
“Oh, I have a positive attitude,” Katie replied. “I POSITIVELY don’t want to go to camp.”
* * * * *
The next two hours went by much too fast for Katie. Slumped unhappily in the backseat of the car, she determined to slow things down, but unfortunately, her parents weren’t born yesterday.
“Mom,” she gasped. “I’m pretty sure you left the coffee-pot on. Why, it could short out and cause a fire. We’d better…”
“No problem, Katie,” Mom said. “It’s a new pot with an automatic shut off. What won’t they think of next!”
I’m not sure what THEY will think of next, but I’m pretty sure I need to think of something else . . . and quick! thought Katie. She had seen the sign for Camp Wickamonga a few miles back, which meant it couldn’t be much further.
“OOOOH-OOOOOH,” she moaned.
No one said a word.
“OOOOOOOH-OOOOOOOH,” she moaned louder.
Still no response.
“OOOOOOOOH-OOOOOOOOOOH,” she groaned in her loudest groan sound, as she crossed her arms across her middle and bent double. She peeked up to see if anyone was going to say anything.
“Doesn’t anyone care that I’m suffering?” she cried. “I think I’m going to be sick!”
“Probably just a bit of car-sickness,” Mom said as she turned and felt Katie’s head. “Lucky for you, we’re here.”
Katie sat up and looked out the window just as they passed under the sign that said:
WELCOME TO CAMP WICKAMONGA
A FUN PLACE FOR GIRLS
Now she really was going to throw up. Dad pulled the car into a parking space as Mom pointed to a sign that said: REGISTRATION
Chapter 3 - Duffel Bag Girl
Katie’s parents didn’t waste any time getting out of the car and heading up the path to a table where a crew of counselors were busy locating names on a list, writing down insurance information, and making cabin assignments. Reluctantly, Katie followed, scuffing her feet in the graveled walkway as she went. Little clouds of dust rose with each new step, turning her new hiking boots an odd shade of gray.
Fully engrossed in the activity of her feet, Katie realized, too late, she was in the path of another camper. At least she assumed there was a person behind that duffel bag bounding rapidly toward her. Before Katie could shout a word of warning, the two had collided. Katie hit the ground hard while the duffel bag flew into the air and its owner tripped over a timber that lined the pathway. The bag went rolling down the hill, scattering its belongings as it went, while the person belonging to the bag landed at the base of a nearby tree. Shaken, but unhurt, Katie rose and dusted herself off. In an attempt to be helpful, she retrieved the bag and began gathering the items that lay scattered on the ground. She trudged back up the hill and stopped just short of the other girl. In horror, she recognized the foliage at the base of the tree.
“Uh, er, you uh, might want to be very careful getting up,” Katie suggested. “That stuff you’re sitting in is poi…”
“Careful? Did you say careful?” snapped the girl as she slapped her hands to her face in a “Home Alone” fashion. “You weren’t thinking careful when you knocked me down a minute ago. Did it ever occur to you to watch where you are going?”
“Excuse me,” said Katie. “I wasn’t the one with a duffel bag in front of my face. And, furthermore, you still need to watch where you’re going, because that stuff you’re crawling around in is poison ivy. And, unless you’re immune, you’ve got a big problem. Here’s your bag and your underwear,” said Katie as her eyes caught the name-tag in the back. “Nice to meet you . . . Caroline.”
Chapter 4 - Cabin D
Katie caught up with her parents just as they completed her registration.
“Well, Pumpkin,” Dad said as he ruffled Katie’s hair. “Let’s grab your things and check out Cabin D.”
Though definitely not ready to admit it out loud, Katie could not deny the flutter of excitement she felt as Cabin D came into view. A narrow wooden bridge crossed over a meandering stream, which Katie would later learn the campers called Crooked Creek. Once across the bridge, Katie found herself on a large front porch lined with rocking chairs, which reminded her of the Cracker Barrel restaurants where she’d eaten with Nanny and Pops last summer.
“Wow, Katie,” said Dad. “This looks like a rockin’ place.”
“Da-aa-aa-d,” moaned Katie. “That was so-o-o lame.”
“Well, look at it this way, kiddo. At least you won’t have to put up with my lame sense of humor all summer.”
Just then the cabin door swung open and a rather athletic looking girl with a pronounced overbite bounded out, allowing the door to slam shut with a loud BANG.
“Obviously, we’re gonna have a “slammin’ summer,” she said as she grinned a friendly grin and extended her hand to Katie’s dad.
Katie made eye contact with her mom and rolled her eyes. It appeared there actually was another person in the world with her dad’s same sense of “dishumor,” and of all the people in the world, Katie had to get her for her camp counselor.
“Hi, I’m Lou, and I’m the CIC (Counselor in Charge) for Cabin D. You must be Katie. Welcome to your “home away from home”. Most of your cabin mates have already settled in, but there are still a couple of bunks left. Pick a bunk, stow your gear, and say your good-byes. We’re gathering at the Twin Pines Pavilion for opening ceremonies in twenty minutes. Be there or be square,” she chirped as she gave me an exaggerated wink. Then, with a thumbs-up and her toothy grin, Lou disappeared down the wooded path.
Reluctantly, Katie followed her parents into the cabin. The front room was large with several tables where the girls could write letters, play board games, or work on crafts. A hallway led to the back room, which contained four bunk beds. Katie hoped there would be a top bunk left. Last summer when her mother had redecorated Katie’s room, Katie had begged for a bunk bed, but Mom had said they were too hard to make. Katie had promised that she would make her bed everyday. She had even used her best baby-girl pout along with her irresistible puppy-dog eyes as she wheedled and begged. Unfortunately, Mom could still remember Katie’s failed promises to walk and feed their dog. Therefore, Katie had ended up with a white iron bed instead; however, the dream of sleeping on a top bunk still lived, and with any luck at all, now would be her chance.
“Alri-i-ight,” Katie exclaimed as she spied a top bunk still unmade. Almost immediately, she realized how enthusiastic she sounded and quickly checked herself. She was determined to look pitiful as her parents drove away. Let them endure a little guilt for shipping her off to summer camp, she thought.
“Well, Katie,” Mom said, “It looks like you will have plenty of chances to make that top bunk. You only have 15 minutes left before opening ceremonies. Grab your sheets and make your bed, while I unpack your clothes and put them in your dresser.”
“I’m on top of it,” replied Katie.
“Good one,” chuckled Dad. “The acorn doesn’t fall far from the tree. Hey, Joe, a conference call tomorrow at 9:00? Sounds great . . . “
Apparently Dad had his cell phone on vibrate, and he was no longer speaking to Katie. It was hard to tell sometimes with Dad when one conversation ended and another began. Mouthing, “I’m sorry,” he made his way to a front porch rocker to complete his conversation.
Katie found the fitted sheet and eyed her bunk. She wasn’t quite tall enough to reach it. No problem, she thought as she clambered up the end slats and onto her bed. She grabbed the corner of the sheet and attempted to wrap it around the corner of the mattress, but every time she thought she had it, the elastic would slip off and she would have to start again. After several attempts, she decided to pull the corner of the mattress up and slip the sheet securely around it. It wasn’t as easy as it looked, but she finally succeeded in placing the first corner. Perspiring, and more than a little frustrated, she pulled the sheet toward the foot of the bed, but it wouldn’t reach.
“Mom,” she wailed. “These sheets don’t fit. They’re way too short.”
“Uh, no, Katie. You just have it turned the wrong way. Pull that corner off and …”
“You didn’t just say pull the corner off, did you? Do you have any idea how hard it was to get it on? This bed is impossible to make,” complained Katie as she threw her hands up in frustration.
“Really?” Mom said in her I told you so way. “Good thing you have an iron bed at home.”
Katie gave her mom a hard look and the sheet a hard yank. The elastic sprung loose and Katie lurched backwards banging her head on the exposed cabin rafter.
“Yee-oow,” she yelped as tears sprang to her eyes.
“Why don’t you climb down and finish unpacking while I see what I can do with those sheets?” Mom suggested.
Katie hated to admit defeat, but right now, she just wanted the bed made.
* * * * *
Katie’s clothes were in the dresser, and the bed neatly made just as the camp speaker system buzzed and crackled to life.
“Fellow campers, please make your way to the Twin Pines Pavilion for our opening ceremony. Parents, we look forward to having you back in three weeks for Parent’s Day.”
“Not too subtle, are they?” quipped Dad. “I think that’s their way of telling parents it’s time to leave.”
Katie’s parents were the ones who looked pitiful now.
“You know, Katie, Daddy and I wouldn’t leave you here if we didn’t think you would have fun,” said Mom as she pushed a stray lock of Katie’s straight brown hair behind her ear.
“That’s right, Pumpkin,” said Dad pinching her chin and placing a quick peck on her cheek. “Be a good girl, and don’t forget to write your ol’ parents from time to time.”
And suddenly, they were gone. A cloud of dust followed them down the gravel road. Katie briefly considered running after the car, yelling for her parents to take her with them; but the sound of music wafting through the treetops made her curious, and the fact that she was ten and not three, had her rethinking that scenario. Instead, she turned with a shrug and headed for the pavilion.
End of Part 1
