Vignette #1
Writing about Camp Teresita Pines wasn’t my first, or second thought; or even my third. It was only after I was searching for memorabilia from another time and place that I came across a small packet of letters addressed to me from Miss Sue Gray, and another from Miss Pat. The letters postmarked 1963.
)Miss Sue, whom I affectionately nicknamed Sappy Sue and Miss Pat were my camp counselors at Teresita Pines. 60 years ago! The camp located near Wrightwood, CA (77 miles northeast of Los Angeles) was a girls summer camp founded by Catholic Daughters of America in 1929. It was one of the earliest organization camps in the Los Angeles County Big Pines recreation area.
Reading those letters brought back vivid memories of that exciting time so long ago when 8 of us classmates from St. Rose of Lima school; members of Junior Catholic Daughters boarded a chartered bus early one June Saturday, along with girls from other parochial schools in the surrounding area to make the 2 hour trip to Camp Teresita Pines. Suitcases packed with ‘Items to Bring’: tooth paste, tooth brush, a brush and comb, socks, soap, shampoo, swim suit; a flashlight and tagged clothing. A sleeping bag. We were young. 12 years old. Just out of the 7th grade. For most of us it would be our first experience of summer camp, of being away from home and ‘living’ with someone other than our family.
We were homesick that first night. Not quite sure if this camp thing was going to be the great adventure we anticipated. Metal, bouncy bunk beds, open air windows (no glass), having to trek outside to a communal bathroom. Cold showers. Damp towels. One description I read about cabins said they were like glorified wood sheds. I’d remove the word glorified. Laying on our bunks, with only the glow of flashlights on, I don’t recall if it was Beckie or Pam, or Barbara Groff, or maybe Melodie who started singing Bobby Bare’s hit song, I Wanna Go Home, but it wasn’t long before we all joined in, sounding like lost, wailing cats.
Fortunately, Miss Sue and Miss Pat, the counselors assigned to our cabin were the right counselors for us. I remember both Miss Sue (Sappy Sue) and Miss Pat were very present to us - maybe because we were a rowdy group and they wanted to make sure we’d stay out of trouble. Mostly, I think because they were good counselors who listened well, and guided us in a kind and caring way. Eagerly sharing their enthusiasm for Camp Teresita Pines, and encouraging us to be the best campers we could be; to participate in all the activities, and have fun. And patiently, I might add, by putting up with my playful teasing, giving it right back to me with a new name, Gooney Cooney.
Crafts. Cookouts. Eating S’mores by the campfire. Hiking, swimming and diving (a challenge for me, it was only after a lot of coaxing, instruction and reassurance from Miss Sue that I finally did! Dive off the board. In one of those letters Miss Pat asked me about my diving and if I’ve been practicing, and reminded me about the Camp Award she presented me). Volleyball. That was my favorite. I, along with some of my camp mates played on the St. Rose girls volleyball team so weren’t new to the game. Our matches were intense, and competitive. And fun! With the letters from Miss Sue and Miss Pat was another letter from a a girl I met at camp. Dorothy. She was a student at St. Emydias, and played Volleyball for her school. I would see her again that fall when our schools played against one another.
The most popular craft at camp was making keychains or lanyards out of plastic strips - called a Boondoggle or Scoubies. I don’t know how many times we would trek to the camp store to buy clip hooks and plastic string. But it was a lot! There was a variety of colors to choose from. Like colors in a box of crayons. Then to decide which stitch to use: zipper, butterfly, twist or square. I wonder if it would be an exaggeration if I told you by the end of our camp stay we each had over 10 keychains! Maybe more. At craft time, or free time our fingers were constantly busy; braiding and knotting boondoggle keychains.
Each morning we’d gather together in formation for raising of the flag, to recite the Pledge of Allegiance and opening prayer. Then breakfast at the Mess Hall. Each night we’d sit around a fire pit to sing camp songs - we didn’t write our own lyrics like Camp Fire Girls did at their camp, still they were good songs to sing: The Lion Sleeps Tonight (Wimoweh), Michael Row Your Boat A Shore, and the well known Kumbaya. But the one I liked best, Zulu Warrior. We sang that song loudly, and with great gusto. I bet a full year passed before the melody and lyrics stopped playing in my head:
I come a zimba, zimba ziya
I come a zimba, zimba zee
See him there
The Zulu warrior
See him there
The Zulu chief, chief, chief
And we attended Mass. We were at a Catholic camp after all. The Mass was celebrated outside by a visiting priest. I’d never been to an outdoor Mass before. It was a nice experience. I liked it! The altar and tabernacle nestled within a stone alcove, surrounded by pine trees. Stationary wood benches positioned for campers to sit. Sometimes a bird fluttered by. Because we were at camp we just wore our shorts and sweatshirts. Although we did wear a chapel veil or cap. Out of reverence. I’m sure I didn’t fully realize it then, but we were young girls sharing a sacred moment. Community. Communion. Fellowship with one another, God and nature.
My life wouldn’t have been doomed without Camp Teresita Pines, but I think it’s better for it . New mentors. Learning independence. Gaining self esteem. Bonding with friends. Exposed to nature. Sports.
Sing a longs. Seeing God in all things, and places. There was something about Camp Teresita that took hold in my pre-teen psyche, and after all these years still holds a favorite space in my memory bank.
I started my musings about Camp Tersesita because of letters from camp counselors, Miss Sue and Miss Pat. They were worthy mentors. Miss Sue and I corresponded throughout 1965. My Freshman year of high school. She was interested in what I was doing, how i was getting along. If my Volleyball skills improving. Alway full of encouragement, allowing for my silliness, playing along with my teasing.
In the past week I searched for Sue Gray - checking with Classmates, Facebook and Google. I was able to send a private message to her through Classmates (her high school Alma Mater), but no word back. It has been a lifetime ago since we last communicated. We’re both now what you’d call an elderly age. Perhaps time has passed for me to have the chance to tell her how much I thought of her, how I valued her friendship at Camp Teresita, her letters and encouragement. That sweet slice of time when she was Sappy Sue and I was Gooney Cooney.
Note: in 1995 Catholic Daughters of the Americas sold
Camp Teresita Pines to Lions Club of California & Nevada.
It is now a Co-Ed Wilderness Camp
