By Hans Clausen, '63-65
|I was there 3 summers in a row. My first two were in Junior Camp, where I stayed five weeks the first summer, then ten weeks, or a full summer, my second year. My third summer was in Senior Camp, where I stayed eight weeks. As one might imagine, I have many - many - fond memories of beautiful Sequoyah.|
|This is of myself along with my cabin mates during Junior Camp immediately after
church on a Sunday morning. The Junior Camp church is the building right behind
us. With its walls missing, this church allowed a beautiful panorama of the
vistas of mountains and woods on all sides. It was quite possibly the most
beautiful spiritual setting I've ever had the privilege of enjoying.
Notice that we are all wearing our whitest whites - white shorts (or slacks) and our cleanest Camp Sequoyah t-shirts. The names I have written on the back of this photo are, from left to right: "Bill, Neal Robert, Bruce, Bob, Knuckle Head". I'm "Knuckle Head," and I kind of like that I was a bit self deprecating at the time. "Neal Robert", second from left, was either one of those names. I'm guessing that I couldn't remember which one.
Lunch in the
Junior Camp cafeteria.
|JunIor Camp, the same setting as above, only from the opposite direction. On the
back is written, from left to right: "Vic Grubbs, Bill Weber, Herman DeHoop (our
cabin counselor), Mike Thompson, George Loker'
Also written on the back: "Cabin E-2 1st five weeks 1964"
|This photo was taken on the front porch of
James Hollandsworth (right) enjoyed the company and friendship of my counselor Herman de Hoop. James was the son of the famous Pop Hollandsworth,so highly regarded for guiding us on treks through the wooded mountain paths, teaching us a deep respect for nature, and just being a winning personality.
I do not remember the name of the young guy who is sticking his face into the frame, but I think that behavior is so typical of the times and a junior camp setting.
|Toward the end of each summer session there would be competitions among all the
sports. This included even the more casual sports we enjoyed away from the
planned activities. In the case of this photo it was using a wooden stick to
push a wooden block through a couple of holes in a wooden box, with the other
guy trying to do the same but in the other direction. I really enjoyed this
sport, and was aware that I was posing for this shot - for the memories. I'm the
one wearing my favorite hat.
On the back of this photo I have written: "Hans Clausen (me) -- showing off. Bill Keith - slouching. Finals. Box hockey"
|This was Senior Camp. From left to right I have written: "Bob Gomes, Jap Hunt,
Gene Goldman, Julian Rodriguez. Next would be our counselor, I think
his last name was Miller, then Lynn Spees"
The year is most likely 1965.
Everyone should remember this wonderful place, Sliding Rock.
I remember how impressed I was with this older teen sliding down with his arms extended in a push-up position. And, I remember, how cold the water was when we reached the bottom!
in 1965, while I wasn't doing anything in particular,
Pop Hollandsworth asked me to grab my backpack and hiking boots and follow him, along with a photographer, up behind the administration building. There he had me pose for a picture by looking like I was soaking my tired feet in a mountain stream.
This photo was used in the 1966 camp brochure.
|This photo has a lot of deep personal memories for me.
During my final year in Junior Camp the counselors created a major competition where each junior camper, of their own volition, could compete for three color feathers by accomplishing various feats and challenges. The first wave of challenges would earn a red feather. The second series would earn a blue feather. The highest honor was a yellow feather, received after accomplishing a series of really difficult challenges. That summer I was the only one to reach the highest honor where the yellow feather was within my grasp. Only, on the last day of summer camp I became really ill and did not do one final task. I rested in the infirmary while all of Junior Camp celebrated their farewell evening around the fire circle. I was permitted to return during the evening, where I could hear everyone having fun through the woods. But I was too ill to join them, and went and lay down on my bunk bed instead.
One of my roommates returned early and, seeing me, gave a gasp and ran out. Within minutes my entire cabin was surrounding me, singing a native American chant, telling me that the entire camp had decided that I had won the yellow feather, even though I was a task short of completing the challenge. I look back at this as a moment when the camp truly lived up to the morals and message it tried to instill in all of us, of encouragement, faith, and belief in others.
This photo was taken before the fire circle celebration by my counselor of all my cabin friends, a kind of 'get well' photo, with my sloppy canvas hat filling in for me while I rested in the infirmary. This would have been 1964, at the end of the '2nd five weeks'.
|I often spent time at the Senior Camp stables. An older guy who helped out at the stables was a real clown, with a personality I really liked. This photo is of him, posing with one of the horses.|
|During Senior Camp I took part in a private horseback riding get-away, hosted by
the Senior Camp riding trainer, Corbet Alexander. He had several of us stay out at his mountain
home where we slept in our sleeping bags on his front porch, ate fresh venison,
and rode horses through the wooded mountains all day long.
This is me on one of his horses.