Summer sleep away camp, for so many of us, was a formative experience. In fact, summer camp is one of the last yesteryear experiences that thankfully is still around today. It is something we still have in common across generations between grandparents and grandchildren.
Some of the best times of our childhood unfold in summer camp.
Waking up to reveille bugle style mornings. Your bunk-cabin mates, strangers at first yet within days they are your tribe for the summer, and by summer’s end, often, the closest of friends.
Lining up for meals outside the dining hall, the entrance “fee,” a creative cheer your bunk has to come up with, to meet the surprise of what the day’s menu has on offer, served in paper boats on your bunk’s designated table.
Singing, hikes, crafts, sports, theater. Learning outdoor skills. Swimming in a lake instead of a pool. And of course, mischievous pranks.
In my day, letter writing, during the daily rest hour.
Young adult counselors become role models to look up to.
And daily, a Torah inspiration.
Campfires light up the night. Campfire bonding as you surround it. Kumsitz. And for me on the East coast, fireflies.
World’s greatest yeast chocolatey kokosh cake and milk for Shabbat breakfast. Always trying to sneak an extra slice.
And Friday night Shabbat magic. As well as magical Shabbat ebbing.
So many tender camp memories. So many songs that become an inner soundtrack. So many experiences that become a significant part of who you are.
Summer camp, where time and childhood innocence stands still.
It’s a universal kind of experience, whether you are Jewish, Christian, Muslim or secular.
The potency of summertime camp is in the way it shapes us and helps us grow in a new and different way than school. It’s the sweet and joyful glue between the more rigorous school years.
To be sure, these summer send-offs, filled with last hugs, kisses and promises to write, are replete with shaky jittery excitement as goodbyes filled with anticipation for a summer filled adventure are dispensed.
In those moments, no one thinks of the worst fears or of the unthinkable.
To see this sweet innocent experience be ripped through by a fierce and destructive July 4 flood has been so tragically heartbreaking. Precious sweet little boys and girls, gone.
So much rain in such a short time, striking in the darkness, the middle of the night, as children at summer camp — and others near the river — slept.
Over 100 people, including at least one entire family, just like that, swept away.
An audible siren-like emergency warning system, no where to be found.
Yet sometimes with unpredictable nature, even a predicted and prepared for hurricane suddenly veers off in a different direction, tearing through territory caught in its path.
This freak storm was so fierce that roads to get out disappeared within 10 minutes. Perhaps that is something no one can ever be properly prepared for. Ultimately, it is humbling and terrifying how vulnerable we are to nature.
Yet, it is hard to fathom that there are so many summer camps and camping sites located in areas prone to flooding.
In the aftermath of this wrenching tragedy, stock-taking and refinement of preventative safety measures will hopefully be put in place.
For now. For these broken families. And impacted communities. For the heroic counselors who faced the desperate moment of the threat of being swallowed by the water, but tried to save their campers. For the parents camping along the river, who must have fought tooth and nail to save their children and loved ones. For the empty bedrooms of little children who will never return home from summer camp.
For all of it, tears seem to flow in red, white and blue. A river of tears.
© IJN 2025
