[This week my sons return to their favorite sleepaway camp, this time with my older son as a Counselor-in-Training! As ever that gives me serious empty nest syndrome, but more relevantly it also gives us an opportunity for some Summer CampStudying!]
On the
unique summer camp without which there’d be no AmericanStudier.
The van was, to the best of my recollection,
entirely ordinary. Just a van. The movies that we watched while driving in that
van were, although I can only remember one specific title (the forgotten ‘80s
classic Space Camp
[1986]),
nothing earth-shattering either. Just mediocre kids’ entertainment. The lunches
that we ate at our various destinations, likewise. The counselor to camper
ratio was, while probably well within state requirements, nothing special; I
think there were around 12 of us at a time, and just the one counselor. As
summer camps go, these basic details might make this one sound pretty average
at best. But Camp Virginia most definitely changed my life.
Over the years a number of folks have
asked me what inspired my dual passions for American literature and American
history, and in my answer I often focus on a couple core elements of my
childhood: being raised by two parents who cared
deeply about reading and writing; and growing up in Virginia,
surrounded by all that history (especially, at least in what was
highlighted during my childhood, of the Revolutionary and Civil War eras). But
when it comes to the latter influence, of course many tens of thousands of kids
grew up in Virginia during the same period as I, and I doubt that many of them
were similarly inspired by its treasure troves of historical goodness. And
while my parents without question would have introduced me to those troves, the
most foundational introductions were those provided by Mr. Kirby. Ronald Kirby
was my fourth-grade teacher at Charlottesville’s Johnson Elementary School, and
I’m sure he did a great job in that role, but for me he’ll always be the
founder, sole counselor, chauffeur, lunch maker, movie selector and starter,
7-11 bathroom demander (a long and funny story that I can’t possibly replicate
here, but it’s a good one, trust me), and above all guide and teacher and
historian and mentor, of Camp Virginia.
Every summer (well, I did it for two
straight summers, but I think he ran it every summer for many years before and
after that as well), Mr. Kirby would offer week-long camps, each one focused on
a different historical topic (mainly the Revolution and the Civil War, but I
imagine there were variations and other topics too). Each day we’d drive to a
couple of historical sites, and while I do still (kinda) remember the van and
the movies and the lunches, it’s those visits and sites that really stand out
for me. But not even the sites, many of which I’ve been to numerous other times
as well. It’s the aura that stands out for me, the ambience, the ways that Mr.
Kirby could, with a well-chosen anecdote or detail, with attention to a
particular spot or artifact or story, with his very enthusiasm and passion and
interest, undimmed after however many years and visits and campers, make the
history come alive for me and, in so doing, make me come more fully alive as a
student, a historian, a Virginian, an American. It’s no exaggeration to say
that at the end of those weeks I was hooked, was destined for a life (in
whatever profession or discipline) in which history would always be a major
destination.
Next camp
context tomorrow,
Ben
PS. What
do you think? Summer camp stories you’d share or histories you’d highlight?
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