Camp Hitaga

For six years, while I was in college and graduate school, I spent my summers working as a counselor at a Camp Fire Girls camp near Cedar Rapids, Iowa.

I knew I didn’t want to go home after my freshman year in St. Cloud. There were no jobs for me in North St. Paul. I would have been a lousy waitress. I wasn’t certified to be a life guard. The few businesses in town weren’t hiring. And although I passed my driver’s test, I really didn’t know how to drive a car.

Ah, ha, I thought. Maybe I can work in a summer camp? I like being outdoors. How hard can it be?

The application process was easy. Back then there were no background checks. I’m not sure I even had to submit a letter of reference. 

I was accepted almost immediately. I later learned that the director wanted counselors with a music background. She hired me to be on the nature staff, not because I knew anything about nature, but because I could play the piano.

Camp Hitaga turned out to be a good fit for me. The camp director, Noel Newell, and the culture she promoted completely transformed my life.

Noel was a kind, gentle, gracious, quiet woman. I have no idea how old she was. She had beautiful white hair, so we all assumed she must be really old. She was a music major, who ran the camp like a choir. We sang all the time. We met at the flagpole and sang patriotic songs. We sang at meals, on hikes and canoe trips, in the shower, walking along dusty paths. 

Every night, the counselors met around a campfire. We sang in harmony, accompanied by guitars. Folk music by Peter, Paul and Mary and Bob Dylan drifted from every hilltop as counselors sang their campers to sleep. After the girls were sleeping we slipped away to the kitchen, searching for ice cream and dessert left-over from dinner.

Being on the nature staff allowed me to be outside all day. There were two of us on the staff plus a head counselor, who was a real biology major. We worked in a small cabin, filled with plants and animals ~ including an eight-foot bull snake that terrified me. I led nature hikes in the forest, where we identified plants, met for early morning bird hikes (supplied with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches) and late night star-gazing lessons.

The picture at the top of this page is of three campers building a bird bath. I don’t know whose idea that was. Probably not mine. I always learned far more than I taught.

One day, on a hike to the mail box, there were cows in the field next to the road. And one bull. There was mating going on but I was so clueless, I didn’t know what was happening. 

One of the campers asked, “What are they doing?”

“I’m not sure,” I answered. “I guess they are playing a game. It looks like they are having fun.”

I loved they campers and the other counselors. I’ve lost touch with all of them, except for one fine woman, a previous camper with whom I’ve shared a lifetime of friendship.

It was an idyllic time for me. I went from being a very shy, completely non-athletic young woman to someone who enjoyed social encounters and being physically active.

I spent every minute soaking up sunshine, in the company of like-minded women who were smart, funny, creative and energetic. Because this was the early 60’s, most of us went on to teach school and raise families. 

Noel guided us with a gentle hand, even though none of us were as quiet and well-behaved as she would have liked. She recognized that each of us had something special to offer, something that made us worthy, something that made us capable of being leaders of this new generation.

I never went back home again.