The memories of the past are what give life its meaning and continuity as we seek direction into the future. Some of the sweetest memories are of my childhood and the old fashioned camp meetings I attended.
It was no small feat to travel the two hundred miles to Hope in the 40’s. The trip started with a day and a night on the Cardena or one of the many vessels that the Union Steamship Co of BC owned. From Vancouver we took the train the 100 miles up the Fraser Canyon to Hope where the campground was situated.
This line was extremely busy with hardly a pause between trains, either going west to deliver things such as prairie grain to the waiting freighters in the Port of Vancouver or products and passengers going east.
The tracks were immediately adjacent to the camping area and each year it appeared that our tent was always one of the closest to the tracks. It seemed that I had barely gone to sleep when the wailing of the steam whistles and the chugging of the engine with the clickety-clack of the train on the tracks would awaken me from a sound sleep with my heart pounding in terror thinking the monster was coming right through our tent.
The first thing on the agenda however once we walked through the gate was to locate our assigned spot. This was usually a raised wooded floor with a tent top draped over the wooden roof supports and maybe a bed frame.
Once we were registered we would go to the supply shed for the needed supplies to furnish the tent. The first ones to arrive got their pick of the tables and chairs and the luxury of a nightstand or two. But the most important item of all for the ten-day stay was the straw tic and a bed to place it on. The tic usually did not have any filling and would have to be filled from the main supply shed. Us kids would usually sleep together in the same bed, which may or may not have a straw tic to snuggle into. It was a real treat if it did and one of the best things of the whole camping experience.
Water was carried in a bucket from a common drinking area where the cooking was also done on wood stoves. My mother however usually cooked on a Coleman camping stove in our tent, as did many others in the camp.
One of the neatest things of camp was the ringing of the big brass bell for the meeting times and other important happenings such as times to eat, and when to rise and when to go to bed. Ernie Huff was the official bell ringer for most of the years that I remember.
Campmeeting was a special time for spiritual renewal and most folk went there to recharge their spiritual batteries. I can remember clearly the evening meetings, which most everyone attended, and the many calls to repentance. This was a time when many a soul was saved and began a new life style.
Missionaries were big in my life as a kid, especially at campmeeting when they came to the kid’s tent to tell adventures stories. Without hesitation I would immediately put my hand up when ask, “All those that want to be a missionary raise your hand.”
The missionary that I loved the most as a kid was Eric B. Hare. He had spent countless years in Burma until he had to flee because of the war. He was one of the greatest storytellers of all time. Us kids would just sit there enthralled as he got into his stories with all of the sounds and gestures that the story demanded. He was an expert at imitating animal sounds of all kinds.
One of the things that I also enjoyed at camp was the big potluck dinner after the church service on Sabbath. This gave us a chance to could catch up on all the news with friends that we hadn’t seen all year.
Its seems that all this was so many years ago but the memories still linger and have always been a part of my life and who I am today.
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