Camp Hagan ~ The Flood of 1955 – I was the Counselor of Senior #7
1955 was a pivotal time in my life.
In the spring of 1955, my mother called me at Bucknell University where I was a sophomore. Our minister, Rev. Wohlsen, asked her if she thought I would be willing to be a counselor at Camp Hagan. I had been a camper at this Shawnee-on-Delaware Lutheran camp since I was seven years old. I stayed only for a two-week session each year and had not attended for the previous two years.
I could be a Waterfront counselor if I passed the Water Safety Instructor’s course. Although I started my camp career terrified of the water, over the years it had become one of my favorite things, due to having been given a private swimming teacher who painstakingly helped me through my fear and gave me the confidence to learn to swim. I started as a White cap.
We found an Instructor’s course given at a lake camp somewhere in New Jersey that started the day after my last final exam. My father, Jesse James, drove out to Lewisburg to collect me and my stuff and I spent one night at home before he drove me to the Instructors Camp.
I didn’t have time for a medical check up so I was taken to a doctor in the NJ town. I recall the doctor telling me my blood pressure was extremely low; 60 over 40 — and he said “You’re breathing, so I know you are alive.” “Since you’re already here, I’ll pass you and let you stay.”
I also managed to pass the Instructor’s Course, exhausted, bruised and waterlogged. I almost did not survive the final test of the 200 lb. instructor’s surprise jump on my back in deep water. I was about half his weight, but they towed me to the beach and I passed.
I arrived at Camp Hagan to ready my Senior 7 cabin a few days before the campers arrived. At age 19 I found myself in charge of 16 year olds. One of the outstanding memories was a particularly tough camper who arrived with both parents who informed me that – [Let’s call her Meg] their daughter was spending the entire summer – two months – as punishment. – Wow! Isn’t that a good plan?
Among my memories of Meg was after our hike to Turn’s General Store in Bushkill. We had stayed briefly, eating ice cream and then headed back to camp. The office sent word for me to go there. Someone from Turn’s had called to report the theft of some magazines while we were there. The description of the thief was clearly Meg. I went back to my cabin and retrieved the magazines from her. She was defiant. Her constant demeanor of defiance, refusal to follow camp rules, and rude “back-talk” eventually wore me down so that I went to the Director to tell her I was caving in under the stress. As best I recall the Director met with her and I don’t remember what resulted as soon we were busy with other things.
The summer of 1955 began a historic drought with a record number 90-degree days — and a few 100-degree days in July. The heat didn’t bother me; I spent all day in a bathing suit on the waterfront. My usual hay fever was not too bad, but I managed to get poison ivy, chiggers, and athletes feet due to spending all day on the waterfront.
In August the rains came. Thursday August 11 Hurricane Connie brought 10+ inches of rain onto drought hardened ground in a 48-hour period in the Pocono Mountains. The Delaware River and its tributaries were at flood stage. We knew little of the flooding in the Pocono’s and in Stroudsburg. The Office probably had a radio and of course telephones, but as campers and counselors, we had no knowledge of flooding at that time. Then Hurricane Diane, began on the evening of Thursday August 18 and soon the River by Hagan became fierce and began to rise.
On the evening of August 18, we received a directive to “break camp” by nightfall, a task that is normally done in a few days. We had to have campers pack their belongings into their trunks, then make a bed roll with only necessities and prepare to leave camp in the morning. Camp Hagan was in danger of flooding. The waterfront counselors dismantled the apparatus on the River, and bought the ropes, row boats, canoes and dock up the long path to higher camp ground. I recall swimming out and retrieving a set of steps. Several Miller boys appeared and helped us. Thank goodness!
Our sister camps, the Ministerium Camp and Camp Miller were not threatened. We all walked up to the “Minnie” camp where we stayed through the night. We were given our meals there and my campers and I slept on the floor in some out building. We stayed there for two days, and after breakfast the next day we were told our camp had been spared so we packed and walked back to Hagan and put camp back together.
I remember the weather was beautiful: sunny and cooler. We learned that nearly all bridges in the area had been washed out by the flood so we were stranded. There would be no trucks delivering food or supplies. There was no electricity — but we had none in the cabins anyhow. The kitchen couldn’t cook meals. We didn’t mind. There was plenty of Bug Juice, candy in the canteen, bread, jelly and peanut butter. We would be fine.
Camp routine resumed with the exception of the usual river activities; the muddy river had swelled to just five feet below camp. Normally the river was 35 feet below the campground. We could see large items floating down the river; small buildings, trees, etc. The river was clearly off limits for camp activities.
It was best to stay at camp. Ironically our river camp had survived what much of the East Coast of the USA had not. The extensive damage in the Poconos was also throughout the East Coast. President Eisenhower had declared a state of emergency and Governor Leader had estimated over a billion dollars of damage (consider the dollar value at that time) in Pennsylvania alone.
But WAIT! Governor Leader was going to save the day. He ordered a whole convoy of large passenger busses to come to Hagan and take everyone to a destination near their homes: Lehigh Valley, Philadelphia, New York, Boston, New Jersey, etc.
So! Now we were to “brake camp” again. This was quite a feat considering the amount of campers — 5 Junior cabins, 5 Intermediate cabins and 7 Senior cabins! We packed all campers and assembled them in groups according to their home areas.
The busses would arrive in the morning. The office people had typed the lists, made name tags for all the campers to be pinned on them. We were one amazing, efficient group working together again.
Morning came. No Busses. Eventually we learned the busses were lost. They did not know that there was only one way to get to us since all the bridges were out. The only route still drivable was through Bushkill. Our well laid and organized evacuation plan was now plan A and we needed Plan B.
The Counselors each took a sub group of campers and started playing games. We had to think on our feet to come up with games that required none of the packed equipment. I remember we played Red Light, sang some songs, such as John Jacob Jenkleheimer Schmidt, and created word games. The kitchen and office crew fed us with sandwiches and Bug Juice.
Apparently the bus drivers were eventually given directions to Hagan because slowly during the late afternoon the busses began to arrive and we loaded the campers. I was in charge of the New York City group. The Flood caused the season to end a few days early.
By night fall all the people were gone except the Director, her staff and Dusty Glasson, Maris Rumsey and me. We lived in Stroudsburg; no bus went to Stroudsburg. I went to the Office to use the phone to call my father. Driving permits to use the roads were extremely restricted; emergency vehicles only. My father found a friend who had a permit for his truck. Jerry Williams arrived about 10 o’clock in his beer truck, and we three put our stuff in and sat on the cans and boxes of beer on our ride back home to Stroudsburg.
Shortly after I got home, I went to the Sherman theater with friends to see Love Is a Many Splendored Thing (Release date, August 18, 1955). The film is an American drama-romance film. Set in 1949–50 in Hong Kong, it tells the story of a married, but separated, American reporter Mark Elliot (played by William Holden), who falls in love with a Eurasian doctor, Han Suyin (played by Jennifer Jones) originally from China, only to encounter prejudice from her family and from Hong Kong society.
My Flood of ’55 adventure was punctuated by the perfect ending: It was a pivotal time in my life. I met my first husband, Charley Levergood, because we both went to that movie. I certainly have a good story to share from my last days at Hagan.