It must be more than 65 years ago that my dad helped drive a farm truck with benches in the back from the Willamette Valley (Oregon) to Quaker Hill Camp near McCall, Idaho. It was an opportunity for young Quakers who normally went to camp at Twin Rocks on the Oregon coast to visit the Idaho counterpart.

When I was the age to start attending boy’s camp, our family was living in Ontario, Oregon, (next to the Idaho border) and Quaker Hill was our camp. For several years, camp was the highlight of the summer and I’ve retained some pleasant images of those experiences.

In less than two weeks, we will be taking our daughter, Abbie, to Quaker Hill Camp where she will serve on the summer staff for eleven weeks. She will grow and develop in new ways as she experiences the challenges and fulfillment that are such a dynamic part of Christian camping.

There is no real significance or benefit from the fact that her dad and grandfather have been there “way back when.” The location and the focus on relationship with Christ are the only common denominators, but I get a warm feeling from a third generation having direct involvement at Quaker Hill.