More Than A Place
Happy Earth Day!
This article was written by Director Emeritus, Chuck McGrady, and originally published in camp’s 50th anniversary “Behold50” book in 2018.
At camp, we’re grateful for the opportunity to learn about the world and our place in it, all while being immersed in nature’s beauty. In this piece, Chuck offers a beautiful reflection on the value of nature in the Falling Creek experience.
To hundreds of people, yes, even thousands, this wondrous place we know as Falling Creek is much more than a place, much more than a camp and a summer destination for boys. For those of us who’ve had the privilege of spending time here, Falling Creek is where we found our first taste of independence, love of the outdoors, confidence, genuine brotherhood, freedom, trust, and true grit.
As a young boy attending a summer camp much like Falling Creek - Camp Sequoyah - I distinctly remember becoming part of something bigger than myself. I had my cabin mates; I had my tribe. I learned that there were consequences to bad and good behavior, and I made friends I still have today, nearly six decades later. And I had the good luck to relive my childhood when I came to Falling Creek as a counselor and then as its third owner and director.
While Falling Creek is now 50 years old, its traditions reach back almost a century to camps Greystone, Sequoyah, and Mondamin. Those traditions were brought to the camp from its directors, staff, and campers.
Every member of the Falling Creek community remembers the Candlelight Ceremony, the music, the laughter and antics at Morning Assembly. They also remember the sounds of the crickets and frogs at night, and the birds in the morning before the bell would ring.
Indeed, a young boy may not initially understand the importance of starting his day with Morning Watch or of trying his best to have a Servant’s Heart, a Moral Compass, a Positive Attitude, and a Warrior Spirit - but a man who starts his day pondering such things has grown to recognize and embrace their value.
Likewise, our society doesn’t provide much direct experience in nature today, and as the young spend less and less of their lives in natural surroundings, l’ve always suspected that their senses don’t fully develop and they don’t experience the richness of human experience.
One essential part of Falling Creek’s value, which is difficult to understand as a camper, is the role of nature in one’s early spiritual development. I remember the simple awe I felt as a child sitting with my cabin mates at Morning Watch, listening to the wind rustle the leaves on the trees, or lying on my back in a field seeing animals and faces in the clouds.
Falling Creek is an antidote for today’s addictive “screen time” and lack of social interaction, recreation, and outdoor time.
When young at Falling Creek, we hiked through the forests of tulip poplars and hemlock, cared for horses, and caught snakes, turtles, and salamanders. We fished and felt the current as our canoe or kayak rushed downstream. We biked the trails and climbed the rocks. There were cabin overnights, trips to Looking Glass Rock or the Nantahala River, time around campfires, and time spent playing in creeks. Those were sights, sounds, and smells that have stayed with me for a lifetime.
At Falling Creek, we were bound to the natural world, and even after years have gone by, our memories remind us that we remain bound to it today.
When I think about Falling Creek, I remember the mountaintop and the lakes, surrounded by the deep woods that obscured the cabins. I think about the voices, singing, and laughter during the summers that went too fast. And I think of the quiet off-season, planning and preparing as watched the turkeys, deer, and bears of winter.
Fifty years of memories. Fifty years of changed lives.
You may have been part of Falling Creek for a few weeks one summer, or you may’ve made Falling Creek part of your life for many summers. Eventually, everyone wanders away from this magical place called Falling Creek, but we never wander away from the impact it has had on our lives.
Fifty years. Behold!