Camp Hagan – my summer home from 1954 – 1960. Those were the days, my friend! Of all my life experiences aside from family, Camp Hagan probably was the most influential in producing the woman I am today. It was there that I learned the value of friendship, the strength of being able to do anything I wanted, the importance of traditions, an appreciation for God’s Earth and the joy of having a rip-roaring good time. Even now, my home is in a forest community that is very small, has a lake and looks a lot like Hagan! I remember the red lantern swinging from Bloody Mary’s Tomb (who knew it was the CIT’s) and also being scared to death to walk over that very skinny plank to get onto it; the hikes to Bushkill; diaper pins holding our voluminous shorts together; bug juice; scrub day on Fridays; the flag ceremony every day; services in the outdoor Chapel; camp fires; the CIT canoe trip; the JC tent shared with Jeannie Worth, Nancy Kostas and Marilyn Morgan; candles floating down the Delaware; Special Days; Miller dances; Sandy Beach with the Miller guys; days off in East Stroudsburg and the very best memory – Hagan Christmas. Carols at night, the early morning dance around the flagpole, gifts made in Arts and Crafts, the ceramic gifts at the banquet (I still have many of them and they are a part of my holiday decorations) all made Christmas in August as wonderful as Christmas in December.
In 1955 Hurricane Diane hit the East coast and Hagan was in the path of an out of control and raging Delaware River. We were literally shut off from the rest of the world. I vividly remember watching houses, dead animals, and all sorts of debris floating down the river. The water came close to the top of the bank, but never overflowed at Hagan. Other camps were not so fortunate. Milk and food supplies got to us somehow, but the order to evacuate to higher ground was both frightening and exciting. Each of the senior campers got a junior or intermediate buddy. We made up our bedrolls and hiked to Camp Minnie where we slept in the barn (I think). The Salvation Army was the group who really helped, although the Red Cross got most of the credit. We finally were told we could go back to camp and get ready to be taken by buses to Allentown where our parents could pick us up. My parents were attending a formal event when my aunt heard the news. She called them; they left and drove to our pick up spot. I probably was the only camper whose dad was wearing a tux and mother a cocktail dress. As the buses were pulled in, we were told to start singing so our parents would know we were OK. I made it clear to my parents that they shouldn’t have come to get me as we had heard that if the parents couldn’t come, the State Police would drive us home. That sounded like much more fun. I really don’t know if that was true or just a rumor.
At the end of every summer I had “Hagan Withdrawal” and shed many a tear because, “there’ll be no Camp Hagan until the next season, so cheer up my girls, bless them all.”