Meditation

Dear Chief:

For some time now, I have been writing letters to you, asking questions and thanking you for the legacy you left. Some people think I'm a bit loopy writing letters to someone who has passed over. So, you could do a lot for my credibility if you were to respond. After all, you have an eternal amount of time on your hands.

The earth you left behind is in a state of constant transition—turmoil even. So, I am writing to ask for your observations about Camp and how it fits into a world that looks so different than the one you left behind.

Chief, generations of campers have seen radio give way to television and both give way to the Internet and McLuhan's "Global Village". Most of us today carry around an interesting array of amazing devices. We have wireless phones which can transmit moving pictures, send messages in print and play The Star Spangled Banner when someone wants to talk to you. Using a cell phone or a computer, a person may work and shop from home and gain access to all manner of things from all around the world. Some people call this electronic universe the "information highway".

Like most roads, the information highway is not a one way street. While we can reach out, others can reach in to us. We are bombarded with information and sales pitches—much of it unsolicited - even undesirable. Do you remember that dreadful luncheon meat you used to give us for canoe trips called "Spam". Most of us thought it was compressed beaver leavings. Today, "spam" means electronic junk mail. We need filters to keep the spam from overwhelming us. For sure, this is a worldwide web. But, most of us are caught in it to one degree or another.

At Camp, the web is mostly left behind. As in your day, campers learn to swim and paddle, to love and appreciate nature and to live with few of the comforts they had at home. And—as always—they make friends.

The enormous changes in the world around us make the Camps seem like an island from a different time—a throwback.

So, here's my question, Chief. Will your Camps continue to have something important to offer in this information overloaded world?

Before I end this letter, I want to tell you something that I learned about you last winter.

I first came to Camp in 1955 - on the train. The pandemonium began in Union Station and ended with a two mile forced march from Taylor Statten Station into Camp. Newspaper reports said the Camp train was the biggest single movement of people in a day in Canada outside of the military. True or not, it certainly made this kid wonder if he would be lost in such a great big Camp.

Sometimes, you travelled on the Camp train. Even then, I had heard you had special gifts which included the ability to walk up to any of about 400 kids and call them by name. I imagined your mystic chiefly powers must be in the same league as the Wizard of Oz.

In 1955, I remember you walking through the train and speaking to other campers and calling them by name. I thought that couldn't happen to me because I had never been to Camp—or even seen you before. I was wrong. You sat down on the seat arm slightly above me and patted me on the shoulder. You said how glad you were to see me and then called me by my name. I wondered, "How can this be"?

What I know now is that as your hand passed across my shoulder, you flipped up and read the name tag my mother had sewn into the collar of my shirt. Cute, Chief, cute!

But, your greeting began my journey from worried stranger to Camp family member.

I am writing early this year in the hope that you might comment on the question I have posed.

Yours Ahmekly,
Bill Pigott

August 22nd, 2005

Dear Bill

I was intrigued by the description of webs and highways in your letter. So, I did some research.

I learned that there are virtual banks and virtual stores and something called virtual reality. I know a person can use a computer and play games, pay bills or plan a trip without getting out of their chair. And, without having contact with another human being. Enormous amounts of information are available on the web. Some of it is good; some of it bizarre; some of it downright evil. My research even took me to firesoffriendship.com. I thought it was cool. Be more original. Call it a campsite.

I read about other camps and how they are not dealing with this wireless age. I heard about campers carrying cell phones and spending a good part of their camp day talking to their parents. I heard of a thing called a "webcam" which allowed parents to watch camp activities. And, to offer their comments and criticisms instantaneously. This doesn't mesh with my belief that camp is about the growth of independence and self reliance.

I can see great advantages in this electronic world. I also see the disadvantages. Real person to person contact is often missing. This troubles me. Being connected should promote communication—not the isolation I sensed.

After I finished my research, I reviewed the beliefs I had when we started the Camps to see if the original mission of the Camps is valid today.

Here is the mission as described in the 1942 Camp brochure:

"Campers acquire the habit of achievement and learn to do things on their own responsibility... One learns to love nature and to see beauty in sunsets, in moonlight, in rain, in clouds, in forests, but most of all Camp is the place where lasting friendships are made."

To me, friendship is the central focus of the Camps.

I have often described my thoughts about friendship in Camp newsletters—including this one from some 60 years ago:

"Making friends is one of the most valuable factors of our Camp life.

"Such friendship is a thing, the value of which becomes more apparent as we get older. We live and work for it; it is the thing that carries us over the difficult paths.

"Let us be proud of our friendships, loyal to our friends and thankful that Camp has given us the opportunity of meeting them."

Reflecting on the old and the new, I believe that the underlying Camp values still hold. They may even be critical to people—people of any age—who are overwhelmed with the pace of life and are swamped with information. Camp isn't the only way to gain balance in life but it is a very good one. And, there is nothing virtual about it.

As I was composing this letter, Jack Eastaugh arrived. He's a little grumpy about making the transition—he misses his family. Jack has been a treasured friend to the Camp and a peerless contributor to its lore and its iconography. I've always believed that people should have projects lest they get into mischief. So, once Jack gets settled, I'm going to challenge him to carve a couple of totem poles.

By the way, I know it was your friend Terry Ellis who told you how I identified you in 1955. How did I learn that? Well, my chiefly powers extend to a little—what do you young people call it—computer hacking. Change your password. Piggy is - well - obvious.

Loopy or not, feel free to keep writing.

To the Fires of Friendship,
Chief