Today is the start of summer camp in many places across the USA: a tentative return to normalcy after such public assemblies were banned last year. This got me thinking of my summers in Phoenix, in the 1960s and 1970s. I never went to a sleep-away camp, but I did go to a day camp.
Every weekday morning, I would walk a short distance to a public bus stop near my house. A yellow school bus would come by and pick me up. We drove for a while then stopped at a building. All I remember about it was that it was surrounded by a lot of trees. Once there, we would do various activities, including singing, art class and swimming, I’m sure we did lots of other things too; but that’s all I remember.
At the end of the day, the bus would take me back to the same stop and I would walk home. Every Friday (or every other Friday) rather than being taken home, we would drive into far west metro Phoenix to the Estrella Mountain Park. There, we would camp for the night in tents, cook food over a fire and sleep in the quiet of the desert. The next morning, my parents would drive out there to pick me up. I remember enjoying my time at this day camp with overnight camping. I just wish I had better memories of it.
[Photograph is of a small rock paperweight I painted on one of the art days.]
