Traditions
05/08/22 01:05
Rev. George Stickney was the Conference Minister of the Montana Conference of Congregational Churches in the early 1950’s when my parents first came to Big Timber to settle. George’s son Edward married Jessica. Jessica was the song leader at several of the camps we attended when we were children. She was an energetic song leader with a great sense of humor and a flair that I associated with camp songs. Ed and Jess were roughly the age of our parents and their oldest child, Claudia, was just a year younger than I. As we grew into adulthood, Claudia was one of the song leaders at many of our camps. I picked up the tradition as well and often led songs for various camps. One of the campers who participated in the years that we were camp managers was a preacher’s son named John Eisenhauer. He grew up and married a minister who has served in the Pacific Northwest Conference. He and his wife have been leading family camps at N-Sid-Sen for years. So I can trace the lineage of camp songs in the lives of people I have personally known not only through out the span of my life in years, but also the places of my life.
Each morning at this camp there is a tradition of singing a song at 8:30, at the end of breakfast:
Every morning about half past eight, I go oodle loodle loo to Georgie.
Just to let him know I’m at the gate, I go oodle loodle loo to Georgie.
Don’t have to knock. Don’t have to ring. All I gotta do is sing.
And then he throws up the window, pops out his head
And goes oodle loodle loo to me!
That song has been a part of church camp for all of my life. I don’t know the origins of the song. I doubt that the Georgie of the song is Rev. George Stickney. But I know the song was part of the tradition way back when my parents were young adults bringing their children to family camp for the first times. I don’t even know if the way the song got to this camp was by way of the people I have known. It is possible that others attended camps in both locations and shared songs back and forth.
What I do know is that there is enough about family camp at N-Sid-Sen to make it seem familiar to me. I know a lot of the silly songs. I understand how traditions become cherished. I recognize the energy and the flow of the camp experience.
Of course there is much that has changed.
When my parents first went to church camp, the experience was quite primitive. Electricity in the camp was from a generator that was turned off overnight and it didn’t support much more than a few light bulbs. Campers used pit toilets. There was a shower house where hot water was available only in the evening. There was no telephone within 20 miles of the camp. I can remember these things.
When I was a young adult, the camp had a reliable connection to rural electric lines and a very nice shower house with flush toilets. It still was remote. We still had a few pit toilets. We still didn’t have telephone service.
This camp is a bit more refined. Not all of the camp cabins have their own bathrooms, but there are modern shower and toilet facilities easily available. The cabin where we are staying has showers and bathrooms across the hall from our guest rooms.
There is a phone in the camp office and in the residence of the manager. And there is wi-fi for connecting to the Internet in the main lodge and the dining hall.
Covid changed a few things about camp as well. There are hand washing stations outside of the dining hall and hand sanitization stations at the beginning of the meal lines. Even when we eat out of doors, such as at last night’s barbecue, there are convenient hand-washing stations. There are ways to spread out at the few activities we do inside, such as eating, and most of our programming is done outside where we are easily able to maintain distance from others. Face masks are available and some campers choose to wear them for indoor activities.
Each morning, however, we sing “oodle loodle loo.” It feels very familiar - like I’ve been singing the song all of my life, which I have.
I know that it isn’t the same experience for others, but for me camp is a journey of remembering some of the people who have been important in my faith formation. After George Stickney was Conference Minister in Montana, Wilbur Simmons came, he was followed by another George, George Barber, who was conference minister when we managed the camp. We sang “oodle loodle loo” to him a lot. Being at camp makes me remember those pastors, but also many other people. There were lay leaders who generously gave of their time to be camp counselors and directors.
At my age, a fair number of the people i have known have now died. Time passes and none of us is immortal. The memories of those who are no longer living remain, however, and are rekindled by certain events. Church camp is, for me, one of the places where I remember those folks. Placerville, in South Dakota, will always be a place for me to remember Sybil and Bill Pogany. Younger campers won’t remember the same people, but they are forming relationships that will last all of their lives. They’ll remember the current managers and directors and counselors in ways that are similar to the memories I have.
I know that I am an old man who is prone to being sentimental. But I don’t mind being a sentimental old fool. I can sing with enthusiasm to Georgie each morning and I can imagine that long after I have gone, there will still be campers singing, “oodle loodle loo!”
Each morning at this camp there is a tradition of singing a song at 8:30, at the end of breakfast:
Every morning about half past eight, I go oodle loodle loo to Georgie.
Just to let him know I’m at the gate, I go oodle loodle loo to Georgie.
Don’t have to knock. Don’t have to ring. All I gotta do is sing.
And then he throws up the window, pops out his head
And goes oodle loodle loo to me!
That song has been a part of church camp for all of my life. I don’t know the origins of the song. I doubt that the Georgie of the song is Rev. George Stickney. But I know the song was part of the tradition way back when my parents were young adults bringing their children to family camp for the first times. I don’t even know if the way the song got to this camp was by way of the people I have known. It is possible that others attended camps in both locations and shared songs back and forth.
What I do know is that there is enough about family camp at N-Sid-Sen to make it seem familiar to me. I know a lot of the silly songs. I understand how traditions become cherished. I recognize the energy and the flow of the camp experience.
Of course there is much that has changed.
When my parents first went to church camp, the experience was quite primitive. Electricity in the camp was from a generator that was turned off overnight and it didn’t support much more than a few light bulbs. Campers used pit toilets. There was a shower house where hot water was available only in the evening. There was no telephone within 20 miles of the camp. I can remember these things.
When I was a young adult, the camp had a reliable connection to rural electric lines and a very nice shower house with flush toilets. It still was remote. We still had a few pit toilets. We still didn’t have telephone service.
This camp is a bit more refined. Not all of the camp cabins have their own bathrooms, but there are modern shower and toilet facilities easily available. The cabin where we are staying has showers and bathrooms across the hall from our guest rooms.
There is a phone in the camp office and in the residence of the manager. And there is wi-fi for connecting to the Internet in the main lodge and the dining hall.
Covid changed a few things about camp as well. There are hand washing stations outside of the dining hall and hand sanitization stations at the beginning of the meal lines. Even when we eat out of doors, such as at last night’s barbecue, there are convenient hand-washing stations. There are ways to spread out at the few activities we do inside, such as eating, and most of our programming is done outside where we are easily able to maintain distance from others. Face masks are available and some campers choose to wear them for indoor activities.
Each morning, however, we sing “oodle loodle loo.” It feels very familiar - like I’ve been singing the song all of my life, which I have.
I know that it isn’t the same experience for others, but for me camp is a journey of remembering some of the people who have been important in my faith formation. After George Stickney was Conference Minister in Montana, Wilbur Simmons came, he was followed by another George, George Barber, who was conference minister when we managed the camp. We sang “oodle loodle loo” to him a lot. Being at camp makes me remember those pastors, but also many other people. There were lay leaders who generously gave of their time to be camp counselors and directors.
At my age, a fair number of the people i have known have now died. Time passes and none of us is immortal. The memories of those who are no longer living remain, however, and are rekindled by certain events. Church camp is, for me, one of the places where I remember those folks. Placerville, in South Dakota, will always be a place for me to remember Sybil and Bill Pogany. Younger campers won’t remember the same people, but they are forming relationships that will last all of their lives. They’ll remember the current managers and directors and counselors in ways that are similar to the memories I have.
I know that I am an old man who is prone to being sentimental. But I don’t mind being a sentimental old fool. I can sing with enthusiasm to Georgie each morning and I can imagine that long after I have gone, there will still be campers singing, “oodle loodle loo!”
