$100

Nineteen ninety-eight was a year when cabins went camping on cabin night.  No tents.  No pre-build platforms.  No charcoal. Just the ground below us, stars above us, a lighter, and meager portions of hot dogs, marshmallows and whatever the counselor bought at the Lazy G. These were the days when counselors spooked their kids with inappropriate ghost stories, support staff - not having responsibility for a cabin - made raids on our makeshift campgrounds, and we had no concern for Lyme disease (Why I don’t know). 

It was session five, the last of the summer, and we were out for our fifth cabin night - six kids, two exhausted counselors.  Our only goal was to get the fire started and get whatever sleep we could get on the bumpy hard ground.  The kids were sent for firewood and hotdog sticks.  They usually came back with 4 inch wide “logs” asking if they would make good hot dog sticks. While the kids hunted for supplies my co-counselor and I sat with pride that we got our fifth and last fire started while we whittled the logs into hot dog sticks.  Just then we heard Jason yell excitedly, “Is this real? Is this real?” as he ran into the campground and thrusted a $100 bill in our faces.

Jason was probably 13 at the time and quite possibly the most amazing kid I had the privilege to counsel during my two summers.  His priorities were not of an average 13 year old - not of an inner city 13 year old or of a privileged suburban 13 year old.  After establishing the authenticity, we told Jason he could do whatever he wanted with it, but that for his best interest (and because of camp policy) we would have to hold it until he got on the bus heading back to Bridgeport.  So of course he wanted to buy the latest video game, the coolest kicks (do they call them that anymore?), new shades, or a new Yankees cap, right?  No, he wanted all of his cabin mates to have a modest ice cream party and for the famished staff - after lights out - to be treated to milk shakes at Stewart’s.  A 13 year old with more money in hand than he could imagine taught all of a lesson in generosity and kindness that could not be matched during bible classes, celebration, or fireside lessons. He flipped the dynamic as he became the counselor and I became the camper.

Lucas was a counselor at Camp Shiloh during the summer of 1998 and was the Youth Counseling Director in 2001.  Lucas was a mentor in the teen mentoring program from 2002 thru 2004.  He was a Pediatric Physical Therapist for 6 years and has been a healthcare analyst/manager for Union Health Fund for the past 3 years.  He currently lives in Queens New York.

"The Shiloh Family"

In 2002, I was hired to work at a summer camp in New York that I knew very little about. I just knew that I always loved going new places and I thought it’d be a good chance for me to do something worthwhile with my summer. I had absolutely no idea what God had in store for me at this place. 

He intended for me to become part of a family of people.  He placed people around me at this camp that I will love and cherish forever. These people have truly shaped me into the person that I am today and the person that I hope to become. I had the blessing to be on staff with and have campers that challenged me. Challenged me in a way that other Christians truly should…

I met Chris Ewing who taught me the seriousness of our mission while we worked at Shiloh. He regularly kept our focus on the children that we were there to serve. And he helps keep my focus on my mission in life still today.

I met Robyn (Shores) Foster who taught me how to relate the Bible to everyone, even inner-city children. Even today, I remember the lessons that she wrote for us and I can explain them to almost anyone. What a gift from God to be able to put your faith in words!

I met Marcus Ewing who taught me how to love children and people in the most difficult times. He had a gift for working with kids even in the hardest of moments. He taught me about praising a child and respecting a child before you would ever criticize them. I think about the things he talked about every day as I work with children.

I met Teresa French who taught me the heart of a servant. She showed me how to work behind the scenes and never seek attention for yourself. She was always supporting others and had a selfless attitude. I consider this a Godly quality that I strive to have.

I met Nakeisha Vanterpool who taught me how to be an individual. She and her sister were different from the other campers, even in 2002. They stood up for what they believed in and they tried to do what was right even in adversity… a pretty amazing skill to have when you’re 11 years old.

I could go on and on. The people that He brings each year are special. As staff, we all come to this place thinking that we are there to make a difference. Then, we are each made better every summer as a result of the amazing kids that we meet and the peers that surround us.

Shiloh has taught me how important every human being is in the kingdom of God. It taught me not to judge a person or a child, but to love them. Even when it’s hard and even when that person doesn’t come in a nice, neat package, he calls me to love. God placed some children in our lives at Shiloh that came in very difficult packages, and God taught me to look past it and to love them. He taught me this lesson at Shiloh and he expects me to remember this lesson each and every day.

I pray for this place and this mission regularly. I still have pictures on my wall of Shiloh kids. And, beside those pictures, there is a verse. It says “This is the resting place, let the weary rest” – Isaiah 28:12.  I pray that Shiloh continues to be a place of rest for these children for years to come. I pray that it continues to influence the children that drive down that gravel driveway and that it changes the hearts of the staff that live in the cabins each summer. It is a special place and one that I will never forget…

                                                                   
~Kristi (Cooke) Barney

Kristi was a Cabin Counselor from 2002 until 2004 and returned to Shiloh in the summer of 2006 to serve as the Youth Counseling Director.  Kristi moved to New York City in 2006 and volunteered as a mentor in the High-Def program.  Kristi currently lives in Huntsville, Al with her husband Adam.  She works as a Speech Pathologist at United Cerebral Palsy where she works with children from birth to elementary-aged who have speech/ language disorders. 

 

CAMP

By definition CAMP is a place usually in the country for recreation or instruction often during the summer (Merriam-Webster Dictionary). It’s interesting how my definition of CAMP has evolved.

My very first taste of CAMP life was tagging along each summer to a camp in east Texas, while my granddad directed a session. I would stay in the director's cabin with my grandparents, while my parents, aunts, and uncles were counselors in the girls and guys cabins.

When I was old enough to attend CAMP on my own, I made a paper chain counting down the days until my turn to be a camper arrived. For ten years, I went to different camps and learned different life lessons at each one. But, none compare to the lessons I learned at one CAMP in particular.

My freshman year of college came and I discovered there were many different CAMPs taking applications for staff members. There was one CAMP in particular I was interested in. Some friends’ older sister had previously worked there and from the few things I had heard about this CAMP SHILOH, it was the place I wanted to be most. I had never been there, I had never even been to the state where it is located, but I really hoped that would change. And it did.

I went to an interview in my college’s campus library one evening.  I definitely didn’t have all the right answers but I remember leaving thankful for the way God filled me with words when I wasn’t sure what to say and filled me with peace no matter what happened as I walked away.  A few days later, I received a phone call offering me a job to be a counselor at CAMP SHILOH. All the emotions that rushed through me in that moment paled in comparison to all the emotions that were to come. 

Two months later, in June of 1999 I drove to the DFW airport, boarded an airplane for an early morning flight, then climbed on a van, and finally stepped foot at CAMP SHILOH for the first time.  From the moment I went down that windy path for the first time I was never the same.

It was at CAMP SHILOH I learned:

-first impressions are often completely wrong.

-the importance of wearing closed-toe shoes at all times (the day I stepped on a snake tail after leaving the pool).

-how to correctly do laundry.

-to brush my teeth before taking a shower (so for one split second I was clean from head to toe before getting sweaty and dirty all over again).

-kids who have seen sewer rats by the dozen are scared beyond belief of tiny mice.

-“co-counselor” takes entirely too long to say (so we implemented the title “co-co” instead).

-there is no limit to how many times certain songs can be sung at a talent show.

-to double dutch jump rope and a whole new world of dance moves.

-taking your campers to pick the blueberries in the woods, and letting all consume as many as desired, may cause the cabin bathroom to have a line.

-why you should never swing a flaming marshmallow in the air.

-not too gather bark for fire starter from live trees.

-the power of forgiveness.

-a spoonful of kool-aid mix works great to reward good behavior and keep everyone hydrated.

-how much there is to learn from each others’ experiences.

-everyone doesn’t react in the same way to the same situation and that is a good thing.

-it’s not enough to think I know what I believe, I must seek why and be prepared to answer.

-to grow from my mistakes (instead of just wallowing in them).

-the hardest moments are the ones you will remember the most.

Because of CAMP SHILOH my heart knows more pain and more love.  I was changed for the better because of my experiences and the people I met. The lessons learned at a camp do not ever leave you; you take them with you forever. And that’s why somewhere along the way my definition of CAMP changed. When I hear the word it no longer has a generic meaning, I immediately think of SHILOH.

Annalee spent the summers of '99 and '00 as a cabin counselor, the summer of '01 as the activities director, and the summer of '03 as the nutrition director and art director.  After spending her summers at camp, Annalee began her teaching career in Abilene, TX where she taught for two years and then moved to Austin, TX where she taught for 3 years.  Annalee married in 2004 and quickly brought her husband Evan to visit Shiloh in 2005 so he could see the special place she would always hold in her heart.  Annalee became a mom in 2008 to Adelaide, who is now 3, and then to Graham, who is now 1.  Currently Annalee is a stay at home mom, a discussion leader for a Moms group at church, and one of the VBS directors for 3 year olds.

 

A Stroll to Lazy G

On that first early morning in June 1982 I awoke from a sound sleep in the staff cabin to the clanging of pots and pans, loud laughter and conversation coming from the nearby kitchen and dining room on the first floor of Roseberry Hall. Not one to recommend picking a fight with the cook and her assistant, I endured the noise and later met Nina Johnson and her capable assistant, Maureen Campbell. Both were from Long Island—not that I knew where that was since this was my first time setting foot on New York soil—having stuffed themselves, their summer belongings, Nina’s two daughters (Melissa Johnson and Sybil Johnson), and Nina’s two Shih Tzu dogs (Buffy and Beauty) into and on top of Nina’s tiny VW bug for the trip north and west. Thus began the first of my three summers at Shiloh, 1982-1984. It would be during the 1983 summer that Maureen would lure me on a walk down the road to get a soda at Lazy G, at which time she proposed to marry me.

In 1981 (I think), while I was a student at Pepperdine University, I attended a World Mission Workshop at David Lipscomb College in Nashville. Among the displays was one for stateside work in the northeast, upstate New York, for Camp Shiloh, Inc. This sounded great as I was concentrating my studies around youth agency administration and I needed a venue to serve out a "practicum." The application process was easy, but the need to raise funds did not appeal to me. Once I started getting the word out, however, the fund-raising proved to be quite simple. The costs: $250 for a summer's wages, $250 for room and board, and whatever else it cost for round-trip travel and other expenses. Contributors were generous and enthusiastic. Most enthusiastic, I recall, was my admissions counselor at Pepperdine, Ms. Sandra (Sandy) Lemm Gregory, a former year-round Shiloh worker herself.

The next June, in 1982, I took World Airways from LAX to Newark, where I was greeted by Shiloh's Executive Director, Tony Lupinacci, a recent graduate of Northeastern Christian Junior College (NCJC) in Villanova, PA and Nicki Burton, a counselor from Lipscomb (I would later learn that Nicki was the sister-in-law of one of my Pepperdine professors). Tony drove us in his stick-shift Toyota Corolla past the old Giants Stadium in the Meadowlands and Yankee Stadium in the Bronx, which probably means that we crossed the George Washington Bridge along the way, although I don’t recall that (why would anyone want to do that, anyway?).

In addition to Tony and Nicky, other staffers I recall from 1982 include Greg Wilson (NCJC), who drove the bus transporting the kids to/from camp; Bill Westerberg (Oklahoma Christian), a wrestler who would later become Shiloh’s director for two or three years beginning 1985 (I think), before the tenure of Lois and Mitchell Greer; Ruth Stamps (NCJC); Beth Ramsdell (Harding); Kirsten Eckerberg (Harding); Dan Billingsley (Harding); Steve Henn (Abilene Christian, I think); Mark Horsley (don’t recall which school, but whose sister lived in Manhattan); Gail and Peter Traisci (Danbury, CT), whose daughter Leigh would one day be the flower girl at our wedding; Jane and John Galutia and their kids, Wendy and John, Jr. (West Chester, PA), who would later meet up with us in Malibu, CA; Regina Lewis (Brooklyn), and a man named Percy from New Jersey (Newark?).

Counselors-in-training (CITs) during those summers included long-time campers Alfredo Cruz and his brother (Curtis?); Yolanda (Yo-Yo Melendez); Malik Crowder; Denise Allen; two girls from somewhere in New Jersey named Deanna (Dee) and Keena (Kee--I remember that Kee liked to wear a certain pair of jeans with the words “Brown Sugar” embroidered on one of the back pockets); and David Wilson. During our training period, I recall visiting the Flatlands Church of Christ in Brooklyn, for whom David Wilson has since served for many years as minister, I believe. I also recall a guy by the name of Dirk Forrester, from the year-round days, coming up from Tennessee (I think) to lecture us on the finer nuances of language from the city streets, trying to shock us into getting used to hearing certain vulgar expressions.

Memories of the next two years are much less clear, perhaps because I got engaged during the summer of 1983 and got married before the summer of 1984. Staff from those two years, as best as I can recall, included my Pepperdine friend, Anna (Banana) Trujillo in 1983 and her running mate Gene (from Lipscomb, although I don’t recall his last name); Sue Ellen Smith, who would one day become Maureen’s maiden of honor; a guy named Brett; Scot Harris and a guy named Mikey; and John Sanders from one of the five boroughs (Queens?), whose very quiet demeanor nevertheless commanded the respect of the campers. During all of those summers, I recall that the Admissions/Choral group from NCJC, “Sonrise,” came to perform and were always a big hit.

The campers, as always, of course, were the primary reasons for all of us gathering at the site in the first place. Campers who were unforgettable to me include the Levy children—Judy, Tony (aka “Yoda”), and Willard from Adee Avenue in the Bronx; Kasseim Bing from Mount Vernon; the Bush children, Afrika and Tunisha (sp?) from Mount Vernon, who were absolute masters at double-dutch; and the Todd family from Philadelphia, especially Robert Todd, who would come with his boom-box blasting “Eye of the Tiger” (from Rocky III?) and the soundtrack to a new block-buster music video entitled “Thriller.”

David Fritz was at Shiloh three summers - 1982-1984 -he me this wife Maurine who was there for five summers, 1980-1984. He taught Bible and served as a cabin counselor. David has worked in public social services for sixteen years, for the Legal Aid Society in Manhattan for the last eight years and is a Licensed Master Social Worker (LMSW). He and Maureen currently live in Amityville, NY and attend the West Islip Church of Christ.

The Fruits of the Spirit

I’ll always remember summer 2007. I have a hard time explaining a lot of the feelings to people who have never worked at Shiloh NYC. It was hard. Yet, it helped shape my views of the way God works in our lives and how we should always seek to build community. Some days I thought I was making no difference and wanted to run head-first into the nearby Catskill Mountains just to get away. The next day, or in some cases, the next hour, I saw real fruit. Let me explain some of the fruits of Shiloh as I experienced them.

Love is the heart of the camp. Love the kids. Show them Christ by loving them. Love would then come back around. It might be the last hour, but it would come. My darkest and brightest memory from teen session each came within an hour of each other. Maybe an hour before the bus pulled away, a camper had tagged a good portion of our porch with a marker. Before he left, I made him remove it all with sandpaper. I told him very sternly (possibly as serious as I had been the entire week) that I didn’t approve of his actions, but that I loved him. We both cried, and I think he understood. Of course, I’m sure he later realized he was off the hook. I took a deep breath and enjoyed breadsticks and endless pizza with the staff that hung around Camp that weekend. I learned in that situation that love from God does not always come from little hallmark cards and hugs. Sometimes, love comes from the streets of Brooklyn in baggy shorts and a heart that longs for direction.

Joy comes flowing out of every time of worship at camp. One of my favorite times at camp is celebration. The first day, the campers are excited just to learn the words. The second day, they’re shouting/singing “Jesus is my best friend”. What a joy it is just to hear them sing that tune. The last day, you end with celebration, and I fought the tears every time knowing I had to say goodbye. That goodbye was joyous, though. They had made new friends and had reason to be more than happy, but to experience what I would call joy.

Peace might be the last thing you think of when walking into the woods with 6 kids from the Bronx and Bridgeport, CT. Yet, each time, it seems, through a prayer time with two campers, or a morning pool workout with staff – there was peace. Almost every child taught me what it was like to be at peace, with God or with the world, while praying. Teresa French got me and a couple other staff members to do water aerobics a few mornings before anyone else was awake. We laughed a lot, but those were some very peaceful mornings. The days I got up before anyone else to journal about my experience made me most at peace. You get the kids out of the city, and it helps them find peace, too. They see things they’ve never seen before and are able to breathe fresh air. It doesn’t take work to see the fruits of peace, it just takes time.

The other fruits were shown day after day. Patience was obviously learned or otherwise exercised on an hourly, no, momentary basis. Kindness was shown in the willingness of the staff to serve the kids and each other. Goodness knows faithfulness, gentleness and self control were fruits that were used again and again without a second thought.

Those fruits will never go away and neither will the lasting relationships with campers and staff. I still keep in touch with a lot of the people I got to know that summer. They’re all mad wack (awesome), and so is Shiloh.

Daniel was a counselor at Camp Shiloh during the summer of 2007 and volunteered during 2008. He has worked as an IT professional at AmSurg for 2 years. During this time he completed 4 full marathons and 4 half marathons. He currently attends Ethos Church in Nashville Tennessee and leads a small group of runners that run to grow and encourage others through community and Christ. He volunteers at Room in the Inn’s Odyssey Program for individuals who were formerly homeless.

Wrong Number

I have been forever changed and it all started in April of 1997 with a phone call to the wrong number.

(Jenny Behel) “Hello, may I please speak with Summer?” (Me) “Umm, I think you have the wrong number.” (Jenny) “Well who is this?” (Me) “This is Sallie Chase.” (Jenny) “Hi, Sallie! I might as well ask you, do you have any plans this summer? We are looking for counselors to come work at this camp called, Shiloh.” (Me) “I don’t have any plans. In fact, I was just praying about my summer plans right before you called!”

I met with Jason Isbell and Chris Bedard to interview for Camp Shiloh the very next day, and actually spent the first few minutes of the conversation sobbing about how God literally used the telephone to get my attention. And the rest is history! From the moment I first heard the name, Shiloh, until this very day just 14 short years later I have been forever changed. Shiloh seeks to change the lives of children and I was ecstatic to be a part of that mission. What I didn’t realize until the end of my very first summer in 1997 is that Shiloh would change my life.

I can not even begin to choose a favorite story to share with you, like it is mentioned in the bible, they are as countless as the sands on the seas. However, I will try to explain what the campers of Shiloh taught me. Sam taught me how to have self-control. Sharron taught me the importance of speaking your mind. Gabriella taught me that the heartache is inevitable. Raven and Ashley taught me how to be silly. Alfredo taught me how to trust. Perry taught me how to laugh. Jason taught me how to love God’s word. Luis taught me patience. Jennifer taught me how to dance. Jasmine taught me creativity. Raquel taught me to be persistent. Lisa taught me how to sing. Ajoke taught me to be disciplined. Tina taught me the importance of being myself. Shayna taught me how to persevere. Cynthia taught me how to overcome. These and the countless others, showed me a side of God I had never seen and in turn, taught me how to truly love.

Shiloh captured my heart and has sent it on a roller coaster of emotions, experiencing everything from heart ache to utter and complete joy. Upon graduating from Harding, there was only one option, to move to NYC where I could continue building the relationships I fostered during the summers. I moved from a small, rural town of 4,000 to a large, urban city of 8 million. There hasn’t been another experience in my life that has impacted my life the way Shiloh has. The seed was planted in my heart 14 years ago and it continues to grow. I have been forever changed!


Sallie Chase was a Counselor (1997-2001), the Assistant Camp Director (2003-2004), and the Camp Director (2005) at Camp Shiloh. After graduating with her Bachelor’s from Harding University, Sallie moved to New York City in the fall of 2000. While living in New York City Sallie worked as a nanny, began her teaching career at Buckley, and was active in Shiloh’s Wednesday night teen mentoring group. During this time Sallie moved to Stamford, CT and graduated with her Masters from Teachers College at Columbia. She is currently teaching children who are blind in the Bronx.

'Alfred E.'

I was dragged to Shiloh in 1964 by my uncle and aunt. I’d heard local ‘church kids’ like me were outnumbered by tough kids from bad neighborhoods and, as an 80-pound 12-year-old ‘nerd’ with alcoholic parents I kept hidden from all comers, I wanted no part of it. I couldn’t imagine why my own kin thought it would ‘do me good’.

The ‘Big House’ didn’t faze me. My counselor Bob looked like Tarzan, in a blinding-white T-shirt, jeans and Cons; I was sure he must be dumb as rocks. My cabin-mates terrified me: all bigger, more athletic and confident than I. And the charms of cabins, bathhouse, birdbath and unplumbed Kybo were lost on me. Nor did the lake win me: naturally I couldn’t swim, and expected nothing but trouble in the water with my gigantic fellow-campers. Cabin 12, who stayed out on Campout Hill, didn’t just look tough enough to be in the Army, but tough enough to beat up the Army.

So, before the big bell rang for dinner I ran away, and my counselor and other staff had to come find me; most of the way to Mendham.

My attitude may have begun to change as early as that first meal. Who could forget the endless bug juice, the heaped baskets and platters of food and dessert? Or being accepted at table, after such a beginning.

At rec, Bob and I took a walk to talk things out. I wonder, now, what he saw; I saw that this muscle man stayed calm, asked good questions about my fears, and spoke gently to them.It was at evening devotional that the place began to cast its spell: sunset streaking a sapphire sky deepening to azure; fireflies; rippling, slowly-stilling water, cabin groups gathered; a spirit bond I sensed but for which I had no name as yet; and singing, like I had never heard, nor ever hope to – infectiously-joyful and even silly songs, and solemn soaring ones like ‘My God And I’ that stir my heart still.

And then canteen, cabin, devo, and bed. I slept sweet, on a plywood bunk with an old mattress – beside a screen through which the wind whispered, all night long.

I learned Bible, and what true Christian spirit looks like, from Wayne Willis, who taught college Bible – and my counselor, who, it proved, was one of his best students, 4.0 in Bible and overall. In Arts and Crafts I joined an ‘arms race’ of lanyard-making (4 strands! 8! 12! 16! Where would it end?). I couldn’t sing, but helped make the Music Room walls ring. Nature Study was too soggy for me but some, from asphalt streets, cherished it. I remember the overnight on campout hill, Talent Night (Wayne brought down the house with Leroy Van Dyke’s “Auctioneer”), greased-watermelon races, the big swing over the lake, and cabin awards.

Shiloh held delicious mysteries for campers: were the ghost stories real? Did a ghost walk the boards in the Big House attic? What was the secret of the chapel by the lake? What was this ‘green light’ the counselors whispered about so secretively?

I lost all my comics learning pinochle from Reggie Brandevine and Jeff Dawkins, who were neither dumb, nor as terrifying as I’d thought. They told life-stories that stood my hair on end, and opened the door for first-time telling of my stories in return. My cabin nickname, ‘Alfred E.’, was only fair; the resemblance was remarkable.

My session ended as it began: I ran away, hoping my uncle would just leave me. Going home, I begged for TWO sessions the next year. I started, like Jeff and some other campers, to pray, secretly, that one day (beyond hope) perhaps (if we were good enough) we could be Shiloh staff, a prayer God granted us. But that is another story.

Tom Wheeler was a camper (’64-’66), dishwasher (’67), cabin 4 counselor (’69), Bible teacher (’70-’72), year-round staffer in Dover, ENY Brooklyn and Newark (’69-’72) and jackleg PR writer / photographer / printer (’72). After Shiloh Tom completed a BA in Psychology, attended seminary, but then, like so many, was absorbed by the I/T revolution, and has been a systems developer from 1978 to the present. He likes to tell stories. He and his wife Sondra live in Rockville, Maryland and are blessed with children Sarah, Jessica, and Tim.