Testimonials

By Alice Hohl
I'd like to tell you about Camp Wyandot, the summer camp where I work as a counselor once a year. I'd like to try explaining why I drove 450 miles each way every summer when I was living in Chicago to spend my hard-earned vacation days with other people's children. There's just something about that place that won't let go.

My first year as a camper there was when I was 13. Some of my Camp Fire friends had been going for years, but I was afraid to ask my parents because I worried they could not afford the $115 camp cost at the time. Once I had saved up enough from my paper route, I asked if I could go. I was quickly ushered into a new and different world -- a community that would sustain me through difficult teen years and beyond.

Some of my closest friends to this day are camp counselors I had as a camper at Wyandot. All the counselors take "camp names" to make it easy for the campers to remember. So Moo, Pretzel, Hypee and Mossy are still in my life, through 16 years and several interstate moves. Counselors like me return each year from California, Texas, Florida, Illinois and the East Coast. A camper of mine in 1998 from a small town in Ohio has gone from being one of the girls in the treehouse cabins to a senior at Notre Dame University. She sometimes stayed at my house on weekend trips to Chicago. As the song goes, " Memories of Wyandot, they will live forever; Deep within the hearts of all. And although our paths are parted, there's no need to cry, for memories of Wyandot ne'er can die." A couple years ago, on my way out the swinging screen door of the cabin with my gear on Saturday night, I just started sobbing because I didn't want to leave. This is me, a grown woman who covered crime for a daily newspaper, rode a motorcycle and competed in triathlons! That's why I can't say enough about Wyandot.

The deep sense of Camp Fire tradition and love of the outdoor environment is embracing and overwhelming. Children who have never been to the woods are identifying endangered plant species by the end of the week and attending their first, full-blown Council Fire around our huge ceremonial fire ring. I don't want to talk about myself too much, but as I faced the challenges of awkward teen years, peer pressure and competition for college, I was always sustained by the peace and loyal friendships I found at Wyandot. I daydreamed about camp 51 weeks out of the year. As an adult, I now reap great joy watching young people experience these same moments.

One year I had a little girl in my cabin who was terrified of getting dirty and was constantly asking for the antibacterial wipes from the First Aid kit to clean her hands. By the end of the week, she had streaks of natural clay from the creek on her face, as she and the other campers gave themselves "mud facials." I've seen quiet girls and boys take leadership roles when they discover a talent for outdoor skills. I've seen young men learn to take responsibility for mistakes or harsh words and apologize sincerely to their peers. I've seen children of all abilities, some with attention disorders and some with physical disabilities, marching in silent lockstep to raise the flag on a dewy morning.

If you want to know more about Wyandot, from the lake in the valley to the dining hall on the hill, please call the council office at any time.


By Amanda Daniels
Seven years as a camper, one as a counselor-in-training, and one as a counselor at the Camp Fire Camp Wyandot culminated as a driving force, propelling me toward my life’s calling. The spark was started fifteen years ago when, as a child of nine, I ventured into the rolling hills of southern Ohio, to a camp of which I knew only through my mother’s reminiscing of her own childhood. Midway through a one-week session, that nine year old child pleaded with her parents to let her return to camp despite a doctor’s diagnosis of the stomach flu. I was hooked.

I could not get enough of the sense of accomplishment I felt every time I lit a one-match fire. Every time another person would marvel at the plant, animal, or insect that I could identify, thanks to many a nature study at Wyandot, my self-confidence grew. And the time my camp counselors initiated a conversation with me as a person – not just as a camper she had care of for five days – I knew that the camp experience was one I absolutely had to share with everyone possible.

I currently share this passion through my work as a program director for western Michigan YMCA camp. While I have had the opportunity to learn tricks of the trade at many a camp, I learned passion and compassion from Camp Wyandot.

In a world where apathy plagues younger generations, Camp Wyandot is trying hard to reach the minds, hearts and souls through an outdoor experience guaranteed to result in self-actualization. To support this organization, is to support our future.

With my sincere gratitude to those who have given their all to this tiny camp, Amanda Daniels Program Director YMCA Camp Pinewood