Former Tekoa Camper Writes Article about Flat Rock in Our State Magazine

I came across a great little article in the July 2011 issue of Our State magazine just recently, written by the director of educational programs and resident scene designer at Flat Rock Playhouse, Dennis Maulden. In the first two paragraphs of his memoir he mentions Camp Tekoa as what inspired him to return to Flat Rock and the mountains.

"I was in junior high school in 1962, the year I spent a week at our Methodist summer retreat, Camp Tekoa. I was a scrawny little kid, afraid of bugs an snakes and the unknowns below the pristine surface of the lake. I didn't know how to row a boat, and I wasn't a great swimmer, but I've always been a survivor at heart and somehow overcame my apprehensions and had a good time."

The article goes on to describe how the Flat Rock Playhouse brought him back to the mountains after he grew up. He also commented on the Playhouse's involvement with Carl Sandburg.

"When I first visited Flat Rock, Carl Sandburg still lived in his house on the mountain, writing and raising goats. During my first year at the Playhouse, he died, and we offered one memorial performance of The World of Carl Sandburg. Now, each week, campers come to the National Historic Site to see the Apprentice Company perform World and Carl Sandburg's Rootabaga Stories, a tradition that recently achieved a kind of boarding-camp cult status."

I would like to think that the "boarding-camp cult status" he mentions in the article is thanks in large part to Camp Tekoa. Though he uses the words "recently achieved," what's recent to Maulden for me goes all the way back to the 1980s (some of you more "seasoned" folks are chuckling at me right now, I know). As a camper myself, I remember taking that van trip from Tekoa to Sandburg's home, listening to Steve Miller Band on every trip because the cassette tape was stuck in the player. The counselors had us all dress up in dew rags, bandannas tied around our head, and had some of us bring bags of popcorn and empty cereal boxes or paper grocery bags. When the story of the Huckabuck family was told, how their popcorn farm went up in flames one night, we threw popcorn up in the air in the audience. When the Playhouse Players did a skit from Sandburg's "Boxes and Bags" poem, we campers would hold up our empty boxes and bags as they went out into the audience looking for them. I looked forward to that every year I came back, even as a Tekoa counselor myself. I heard later from an older counselor that the park rangers asked the Tekoa counselors not to bring the popcorn because it caused such a mess among the benches in the audience! Years later when my wife and I visited Sandburg's home, a veteran park ranger commented on my remark about being a Tekoa camper and counselor. "I always knew when Camp Tekoa was coming. I could see the bandanas on their heads as they walked up the trail from the parking lot!" [This picture is from the Summer of '93, one of the first groups I took to Sandburg's as a counselor.]

To this day, Camp Tekoa still brings its campers to see Rootabaga Stories in the summer. Though the story lineup has changed with the creative tastes of the Playhouse Players, it still brought back fond memories when I took my kids to see them perform.

If you can get a copy of Maulden's article in Our State, it is an interesting read, and it brought back a lot of memories of my summers in Flat Rock.

Kitchen Duty and the Staff Assistant

It was a given as a staff assistant -- you were going to work in the kitchen. Some staff abhorred it, while others thrived in the steamy, food service environment (David DeHarde and Brian Combs are a few that come to mind). It was a conversion time between C.I.T.'s and being a full-time counselor, though counselors did not have immunity from being pulled into the kitchen on occasion. I was a staff assistant the summer after I graduated from high school, 1992. Ruth was in charge of the kitchen, and ran a tight ship. I learned some things I didn't know, like not to do food prep on the gas burners (gummed them up), or not to drop sharp knives in a sink of soapy water(sliced fingers). It was hard work, but kitchen staff found ways to entertain themselves. I remember on one occasion we made up kitchen dances like The Can Opener or Stir the Grits, or The Bart (Bart was our Hobart dishes sanitizer) and show them off on Wed. dance night, back when Tekoa used to have a Wed. night dance. A few weeks I remember how each kitchen staff member took turns choosing the music. I picked Garth Brooks, and David DeHarde told me he beat his wife and made up lyrics to some of his songs, singing them to me to get on my nerves ("The thunder rolls, the lightning strikes, I beat my wife..."). Of course, I was so easy to tease because I was so darn gullible! We also always found an excuse to go to the walk-in cooler when it got too hot in the kitchen, or the freezer if it were a real scorcher! Of course, that wasn't very energy efficient, and someone would notice the temperature gauge would be too high and know what was going on. I'm sure some Tekoa folks out there have funnier stories to tell than I do, so chime in! The first photo is from the summer of '92 and includes all of the Staff Assistants and C.I.T.'s of that year.


My first year in the kitchen I also learned about the legend of the Ruth Rolls. It was said that Ruth was so thrifty her first few years as kitchen director that she would use the leftover oatmeal and grits from previous breakfasts and add them to a homemade dinner roll recipe of hers, then serve them to campers that evening or the next day. Now, I remember having Ruth Rolls as a camper. I just didn't know that's how she made them. I thought they were pretty good, and I must give her credit for being creative.


The second pic comes from the summer of '96. Cheesing for the camera is Earl Wilson III and Carrie Henson. This was probably taken on the weekend, as they look way too clean and non-sweaty to have just washed a bunch of pans! Earl was mild-mannered, but had a sharp wit about him. He used to eat food dropped in the pig bucket to gross campers out. He would say, "It's all about mind over matter, if you don't mind it doesn't matter."


The third pic also comes from the summer of '96. Kyle (and two other lovely young ladies whose names escape me at the moment) are doing a real dirty job -- cleaning the greasy hood vents from above the ovens behind the dining hall.

The last picture shows Mike Pruitt in a moment of rest on top of the cardboard recycling pile with a few campers of mine. Notice the look of sheer exhaustion in his eyes.

Working in the kitchen was like a rite of passage for staff. You worked behind the scenes, stuck inside while campers and counselors got to play, and never got as much appreciation as you probably should have from other staff. It was a selfless job, but it made me humble, and it also built a camaraderie among many staff members that built lasting friendships. Whatever happened, we could say we survived the kitchen, and had the burns and pruned fingers to prove it!

Under Construction

Inspired by a chain letter e-mail (kudos to Shaggy and to everyone who responded), I decided to construct and help maintain this blog site for all Tekoa staff alumni to post pictures and stories of their years at camp. I also would like this blog to be an invitation to staff and campers to comment with uplifting and humorous stories in response. Think of it as a growing collection of Tekoa folklore.

More to come as I get the word out to others.