Rest Time=Quiet Time

Published on November 2, 2016February 21, 2017 by Kathy Baker

“Things ended up as any Sunday would, and I am thoroughly exhausted,” wrote an anonymous girl in an article in the “Loon” in 1947. “As I lay on my bunk, it is quiet except for the kids bellowing; it’s dark except for the flashing flashlights; and it’s peaceful, except for the individual under me, who is bouncing me.”

Dawn Kober (1977), who was in a cabin with all her friends, had the loudest cabin in 1977. “We were supposed to settle down at night, and we got in trouble for making so much noise.” The bunk beds with springs may not have been the most comfortable in the world, but at the end of an activity filled day, the girls should have cared only about sleep. (Well, nighttime foolishness with girls? Pranks and talking? Maybe not)

Kim Hartwig (1976) must have been in with Dawn in the cabin renamed “Potawatami” at the bottom of the hill as you headed to the lake. “We were loud in that cabin and when the counselors left us to go down to the campfire, we were close enough they could hear us and they would yell “Shut Up Potawatami”, she laughed.

There was a quiet time after lunch, when girls would rest from their morning activities and staff would have a break from giggling gaggles of girls. The rest period began in the early years, encouraging an hour to rest before swimming. “I heard all my growing up years that we had to wait a half hour at least after eating before we could go back in the water or we would get cramps and drown,” said Mary Jo Rawlings, who loved swimming in the fifties.

Gail Schultheiss had distinct memories of rest period after lunch in 1966, where the girls were instructed to stay on their bunks and read, write letters home or nap. “Our counselors knew if we were up to any shenanigans,” she laughed. Many girls, like Minette Jacques (1955-57), always had a book in her hand during rest time.

Cabins And Tents–#2

Published on October 31, 2016February 21, 2017 by Kathy Baker

Bonnie Kessler loved the sounds of the loons at night, which were “spooky”, but they would start the ghost stories in the huts, especially when the moon hung over the lake on those dark nights. She could not wait to be in Cabin Eight. “I don’ know why”, said this forties camper, who finally got in. “I guess I thought it was desirable because it was high, on a rise, with a long path nearby.”

Kathy Sullivan (1961) remembered the three wooden huts in Senior Village with the double bunks as being fairly large. “There were braces between the studs, where I could put my treasures on the shelf”, said Kathy, who was happy to be in the area where there were three cabins together close to the “Brownie”.

Senior Village was built in 1959, with three new cabins on a larger scale. Notes from the Department of Social Services in 1960 list the size as larger than the originals, with racks for suitcases and clothing, and a building sub-committee report in 1959 listed the new ones as 16 feet by 20 feet, with the total cost around $4,000.

“There was no Senior Village when I first went there,” said Jane Linder, who attended in the fifties, “ but I was one of the first to be in Senior Village and two of my friends went with me. It was a special time.”

Cabins And Tents–#1

Published on October 26, 2016February 21, 2017 by Kathy Baker

EPSON MFP image — “Thirty four years ago in the spring of 1924, Camp Maqua, the YWCA camp for girls on Loon Lake, near Hale, Michigan opened for the first time”, a press release dated February 5, 1958 read. “Sixty-two girls enrolled that first season, though camping facilities were meager and living was rustic as cabins were non-existent. Tents were standard shelter—for it was not until the following year on May 11, 1925 that eight cabins and the main lodge were completed and dedicated.”

Tents were also standard accommodations for the many girls who camped the previous years from 1916-1924 at Aplin Beach, Killarney Beach and Sand Lake locations. Notes from minutes in 1945 noted that a new hut was to be built with a $500 gift and “will house occupants of the worn out tent”.

The Aladdin Company of Bay City provided the many cabins over the years, building new ones as the demand for more space came with increased enrollment. The bare board cabins, sized 14 feet by 18 feet, were large enough to accommodate four bunk beds for the girls and one cot for the camper, footlockers and a meager walkabout. The wooden front door, screen door and eight screened windows with pulley windows kept out the elements or allowed for cross ventilation on hot summer days.

“I remember how the cabins were isolated and to use water, we had to walk to a separate building. I used a flashlight and I was uncomfortable and scared walking in the dark by myself. The cabins themselves were spartan, with bunk beds, and we had not reason to stay in the cabin except to sleep. I just remember a lot of brown inside and outside, dark and not much sunlight,” said one camper, whose description fit that of many.

Many of the girls had their favorite cabins, chosen for the proximity to the bathrooms or lodge, or chosen to be as far away from the counselors as possible. Beth Taylor could recall each hut and where they were located in the sixties. The younger girls stayed in huts 1,2 and 3 closest to the lodge; 4,5, and 6 were for middles and the older girls were in 7,8 and 9.

Bottom Bunks and Bedrolls–

Published on October 24, 2016February 21, 2017 by Kathy Baker

Not everyone wanted the top bunk. Muriel Richert only had memories of sleeping on the bottom bed in the fifties, because she was afraid of falling off the top bunk. She had company with Patsy Walsh (1938), who also had a fear of heights. For Kathy Hall (1966-71), her little 5 ft. 2 in. height prevented her from climbing up top.

Jeri Smith could not wait to get to the rustic little cabin in 1965, with the musty smell, knot holes in the wood and rope pull windows. “I always wanted the bottom bunk. Sometimes there would be little bed wetters and the counselors never made a big deal of it, but you would see those sleeping bags drying out on the clothes lines.”

Not everyone was so kind to the bed wetters, according to a few girls. Shirley Colbert recalled a girl in 1941 going home after the hut giggled over the incident and Cindy Naylor knew girls teased instead of being ignored in 1967. Little girls, frightened and homesick often wet their pants and their beds and if a counselor was around, it was handled much more gently. Often girls wanted the top bunks, fearing a “rainstorm” under them.

The Haggard Marcusson Company in Chicago featured the “Tiger” brand steel bunk beds in a 1916 catalog for $26.40 identical to the ones in the bunkhouses at camp. Minutes from March 31, 1937 indicated six bids from different companies had been solicited and Haggard Marcosson was the lowest, but the Wieland Company offered the best price on mattresses. There were also inquiries about waterproof ticking, which was the covering on the mattress.

“I remember laying on the bunk bed and the girls would lay below and kick the bottom of my mattress to get me airborne to see how far I would go,” laughed Elaine Engibous from the early sixties.

The Race For The Top Bunk–

Published on October 19, 2016February 21, 2017 by Kathy Baker

The “Dear Diary” section was written by

Dorothy Niedzielski, Betty Miller and Ethel Feldman in the “Loon” in 1947, outlining a weeks’ worth of camp musings. “Well, I finally got here and rushed to the lodge, found my hut and rushed (knocking everyone over) to get a top bunk (success). After dropping my belongings all over the hut I rushed to Dutton (poor me 14 ½ years and only weigh 95 pounds.) Finally making my bed before supper, I came back and found my bed pied.” (And what would pied be?)

“I was in Hut One and I loved it,” said Minette Jacques, who was only seven when she camped in 1955. She had slipped past the age requirement because her two older sisters were at camp. “I wanted to be on the top bunk, but because I was the younger one, I had to be on the bottom. Well, you can bet every year I bullied my way to the top bunk by running to the hut first and grabbing it. My sister and I loved being on the top bunk. From that bed we had control of the window—your own private window where you could open and close it. And in the 2×4 rafters, you could put a shoebox with your personal things in it.”

“Everyone wanted the top bunk”, said Susan Williams, who camped for ten years beginning in 1947. “You had to step on the bottom with your sandy feet to get to the top,” Cindy Naylor (1967) always liked the top bunk and “always got what I wanted because I was just that kind of girl.”

Missy Plambeck, (1968-78) said it was a big deal to have the top bunk, where you could store personal things on the shelves. “We would line our stuff up and I think the girls on the bottom bunks actually had shelves or cubbies.” For Carolyn Stanton (1947), the top bunk was where she wanted to be, “but I had a room of my own at home and so it was crowded!”

Footlockers As A Status Symbol–#2

Published on October 17, 2016February 21, 2017 by Kathy Baker

Some of the girls who owned footlockers laughed as they told me they still owned theirs–a few holding Camp Maqua memorabilia.

Jane Miller had s shiny black one during her years in the late sixties and early seventies ”, and Amy Falk (1971-74) still has her red, white and blue one. Debbie Tweedie’s was light blue and sat at the end of her bunk from 1965-72.

Debbie Hawkins (1960) had a metal footlocker, which was bought just for camp. “It was a big deal to have that footlocker and I remember I had to buy two bathing suits because I swam every day.” Same year camper Anne Marxhausen was pretty sure her Mom packed her footlockers, filled with new clothes, “knowing my Mom, who loved to shop”.

“I laugh now when I think of packing for my camping and what he (my son) has packed for his. He is taking enough for the whole cabin! I had a footlocker and could fit my sleeping bag and pillow in besides my clothes. There is no room in his for either,” laughed seventies girl Karen Selby.

Carrie Norris (1972) was in a cabin with girl who came to Maqua with a footlocker filled with stuffed animals and food. “I have the feeling she came from a house that would equal one on the “Hoarders” television show, judging by the things in her footlocker,” she laughed.

Pat O’Tool (1944-52) is convinced camp taught her leadership qualities. “I was always an organizer and planner and I always packed my sister Nancy’s footlocker to go away because I was more organized. I can remember we had a long hallway in our house and packing those footlockers was always a big thing. Our bedrooms were upstairs and we would line our footlockers up and make piles.”

Girls of Camp Maqua

My Book ~ Your Story

1940’s