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Memories of an Ancient CFBC Camper

By Heidi D. Boyd
(Thanks for the memories)

Memories of an Ancient CFBC Camper

As I remember, Central Florida Bible Camp started way back in 1956 B.C. (before children) by some people who were associated with the Florida Bible Camp. They wanted to have one that was more centrally located. Two of these involved were Douglas Gunselman and J. P. Prevatt, Sr. (The Charter was signed April 1, 1956.)

Shortly after this, Bro. Gunselman started recruiting counselors, benefactors, board members, and anyone else he could lasso to help make Central Florida Bible Camp a reality. Events were put into motion and the summer of 1957 Camp Ithiel at Gotha, Florida was rented for the very first week of camp that I remember.

1957 B.C. is ancient history for a lot of kids who are enjoying CFBC now-a-days. But way back then, there weren't as many of the conveniences as the campers now take for granted. Car air-conditioning was done by 4-40. Four windows down and doing 40 miles per hour. And that summer was hot!

My older sister was 11 and my brother was 9. I was 6 and my baby sister was 6 months old. Mom and Dad were to help with the handcrafts.

Let me tell you a little about the camp grounds at Ithiel.

Arriving on a Sunday afternoon after a very long, hot ride, we entered the driveway of the camp grounds. On the right was the caretaker’s house. A little farther on the left was a chapel; it had wooden floors, wooden slat benches, and even a steeple. On the right, back off toward the woods, was the barracks that would house the kitchen help and some of the counselors. A little further on, more to the middle of the clearing was the dining hall. To the left and a little down the hill was the boys’ barracks, and off to the right of the lake behind the dining hall was the girls’ barracks. Between the road and the chapel was an open area and between the chapel and the tree line on the left was open area. Also, there was some open area to the right between the road and the counselors’ barracks.

My brother and sister got settled in for their first camp experience. I was too young to stay overnight. Most of what I did that summer was outside.

Mom and Dad helped with whatever. Mostly handcrafts. During girls swimming, I played in the shallow part of the lake with my baby sister. So my first time at camp, I was a counselor of one to a camper of one—sort of. At least it gave Morn and Dad time to do what they needed to do.

It wasn't until 1958 (B.C.) that my first real experience as a bona-fide sleep-over camper began.

I remember all the excitement of making sure I had my suitcase packed with the recommended items to bring, plus a few comic books that my aunt had given us. (Some people brought all kinds of things that weren't on the recommended list. Case in point: One girl camper brought a baby 'possum that she had found. It was the rattiest looking varmint—all pink and no fur. She fed it with a doll bottle and kept it under her pillow at night and carried it around with her during the day. It did live for a few months, I understand. The camper's initials were J.R.) I was ready to go! Again that year, my older sister and brother went. When I entered the mysterious door of the girls’ barracks, I saw rows of bunk beds lining each side and beyond that another door leading to the restrooms and showers. Beyond that were the bunks for the OLDER girls. (The OLDER girls determined the requirements for entry into that "forbidden zone." It always smelled of hair spray and perfume. During the time we spent inside the cabins, they all looked like Aliens from Outer Space--with their hair done up in all kinds of curlers. Who knows? They may even have been receiving messages through those things.)  I for some reason liked the bunks on the right side. I chose a bottom bunk—it would be easier to make up, besides I had no experience sleeping on a top bunk and it was a little scary to me. I got settled in, and made my bed—there was no such thing as fitted sheets then either… they wouldn't have done much good because most of the beds were old army bunks; thin mattresses, squeaky and narrow.

The dining hall… Either side of the dining hall was furnished with rows of picnic-type tables and benches. In the center of the room was an open fire pit with a cone-shaped vent above it. Beyond was the kitchen. Only those on K.P. duty were allowed in the kitchen area. That was something I had no desire to do. K.P. duty consisted of wiping off the tables, setting the plates, silverware (it was of an assorted variety), glasses, serving bowls of food and getting ice. Of course, when the meal was finished, all the mess had to be cleaned up and put into the proper places as well as sweeping the floor. You were not allowed to leave until you got an O.K. from the Person-In-Charge.

Breakfast… The menus for camp breakfast derived from a list of Prune Juice, Tomato Juice, or Orange Juice...Oatmeal, Assorted Individual Boxes of Kellogg's Cereal, Pancakes, Eggs, Toast, and Grits...and Milk. There was a "health requirement" about serving a juice with breakfast.

O.J. was O.K. but luckily I made fast friends with a couple of girls that either liked Prune Juice or Tomato Juice (I wasn't too keen on either). There was an assortment of Jelly and plenty of Peanut Butter to go around, too.

After breakfast, all went back to their barracks to make sure all was ready for inspection—just because the barracks and beds were military didn't necessarily mean they had to be inspected like military! (A quarter was bounced on the bed to make sure it was made properly. Points were given or taken away and at week's end recognition was given to the best kept cabin.) The floor had to be swept. After all that was finished, Bibles were grabbed and everyone headed back to the dining hall to find out under which tree their Bible lesson would be studied. Being as everyone was outdoors most of the time, the bug repellent 6-12 (6 gal. every 12 hours) was a precious commodity. Fans were in demand, too. There were stacks of the old "tongue­-depressor-and-cardboard" type that were in abundance... back then. Accordion folding fans were "manufactured" by the dozens out of class papers. Camp was very friendly, everyone seemed to be waving at each other... (or it was just very hot and they were merely fanning themselves.)

There was a Bible class, chapel, another Bible class or singing class and then back to the barracks to spend some time before lunch. Anyone who had K.P. duty had to go then to get it all done. There was an old bell that was mounted just outside the dining hall that was rung on schedule for keeping up with all the activities changes. The breakfast bell, the lunch bell, and the supper bell were the favorites. No encouragement was needed to get the campers to respond to those!

Lunch... By the time lunch came around, it didn't matter much what was being served, everyone was HUNGRY! As lunch was winding down, one of the counselors—usually Bro. Gunselman—would lead the group in a few camp-type songs. Some of which were nonsensical and stupid. “Three Wooden Pigeons”, “John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt” (this song was used to play "hot or cold" ), “There's A Hole”, “Ma, I Wanna Go Home”, and Daddy's favorite that he tried to teach the campers, “Froggie Went A Courtin'”. Occasionally, (usually toward the middle of the week) someone would be "recognized" with a rousing "Around the Mess Hall You Must Go." This was usually reserved for the "courtin' couples" or a counselor.

After the meal was concluded, and the songs were sung, Bro. Gunselman would make his little speech, "Now, it's time to go back to your cabins for a rest period. Resting is not done like this..." moving his hand in an up-and-down motion, "It's done like this..." motioning in a horizontal fashion. That was strictly enforced, because those who were caught by the "Patrol" were delegated to K.P. duty or picking up trash.

Swimming... After the rest period, the boys and girls took turns going swimming first. The lake there at Camp Ithiel was a nice, clean lake. It had a single dock to the left of the swimming area. A rope was placed to indicate how far out the swimmers could venture. The buddy system was used. Dad had made a special "Buddy Board" so that when check intervals were called it could be seen in a minute if everyone was accounted for so swimming could resume. The "Buddy Board" was a piece of painted plywood with nails driven in as pegs to hang two tags with the same number on each. Each swimmer would pair up with another and choose a number. When the whistle was blown to call a check, everyone would come splashing out and take their number. The numbers were counted down and placed back on the board. My baby sister, Jill, was my swim buddy for a couple of years.

Handcrafts... During the swimming period of one group, the other group was involved in handcrafts. Bro. J.P. Prevail was a master at pouring plaster of Paris. I remember watching him opening the trunk of his old car and take out a big bag of plaster, a pile of assorted plaster molds and begin setting up. In the shade of the big tree behind the dining hall, he would position a board between two concrete blocks and line a selection of molds on the board. A pile of wire cut about two inches long was within reach. He plopped a few handfuls of plaster into a bucket and then proceeded to add water. He seemed to know just how much. He poured each mold with just enough plaster and then patted it with his fingerless hand to coax the bubbles out and the plaster in all the corners. Before the plaster dried too hard, he would insert a bent wire into the back, so the plaque could be hung on the wall. The variety of plaques he turned out was fascinating... The Lords Supper... Large Parrot... Small Parrot... "The Lord Is My Shepherd"... Wolf Head... Bear Head... "As For Me and My House"... Hearts with Flowers... Ships... Praying Hands.  He would occasionally check them to determine when they should be peeled from their molds. He seemed to know just the right time about the whole process of making the plaster molds. (Little did I know then that he was schooling me in the process, because eventually it became my lot to pour literally hundreds of pounds of plaster each summer.)

There were other things made too. We had Indian Bead Belts. Leather Belts, Leather Wallets, Wood Plaques with Sea Shells, Dried Starfish, and Dried Seahorses glued on it, Lanyards, Key Chains. Popsicle Stick Creations, Bamboo Bead Creations, Silhouettes cut from Plywood. (Whatever was made with wood was a specialty of Dad's. Having a door manufacturing business made for a lot of scraps to be utilized for camp... even some of the bon fires.) Dad eventually came up with the Bible Box which was very popular, There were some of the older campers allowed to use the small jig saws to cut out things they drew on a piece of plywood. That was soon curtailed as soon as swords of all diabolical shapes and sizes were being turned out and brandied about in a menacing fashion.

Eventually; Dad bought a trailer to store and haul the handcrafts in to make it easier to keep up with them. (The top had room for things that would not fit inside any of the four side compartments or on any of the slide-out shelves inside.) The "local" handcraft store was in Jacksonville. Early each summer, he would sit down with the catalogue and pick from the available items and even look at new projects to try. Several times I traveled with him to look at what they had and help him order and pick up things for camp handcrafts. (This was before the roads were 4-laned and before the interstate highways. It was one-lane traffic most all the way.) My brother went along, too, to give the guys point of view of whether the thing was "neat" or not. It was somewhat of a letdown not to have to drive all that way for our summer "adventure" when a handcraft outlet moved to Orlando. It was still fun to be able to see all the crafty things that were available. So little money, so much neat stuff!

The Lanyard was such a popular item, that soon not a counselor who had a whistle did not own one or two or three in varying color combinations. Some had the diamond pattern and some had the candy stripe a few were even in the box configuration.

For those who did not want to do handcrafts or go swimming, there were activities like ping-pang, soft ball, volley ball, tether ball, croquet, and horseshoes. Ping-Pong seemed to be the favorite of many, however, the fragile Ping-Pong balls were at a premium and some ardent players would hoard an unbent ball so as to be sure to have one for their play time. There was an Edward B. and a James B. who used to like the game rather well. A Jon R. and a Don R. were contenders, also. The boys, it seemed, usually got to the Ping-Pong tables first, so it was rather difficult for any girl to have a chance. (Or maybe they just didn't want to be shown up by a girl.) Horseshoes was the other "manly" sport that was guarded by the guys. A few of the counselors liked to play while the campers were elsewhere involved. The sound of horseshoes could be heard all afternoon.

One year, I remember, Dad had bought a pattern for a small sailboat. He planned to build some of them for use by the campers. l remember watching him build them. He even built a couple of extra and sold them. The boats were about 6 feet long, maybe a little longer; just large enough for one person to use. They had a sail and a rudder and a single paddle. They each had sails the same color as the boat was painted. One was red, one was blue, one was yellow, one was green, and one was a blue green. They were as much fun as they were neat! During recreation time, if a counselor or two were available to be on watch, the campers would line up at the lake and take turns sharing the lifejackets, boats, and paddles. A rope was set up in the water to make the boundaries. One year the little boats came in quite handy, because the early summer rain storms had made the water level at the lake rise so much, it was unsafe for swimming, so the boats were the recreation of the hour, No one ever seemed to have enough time--5 minutes is never enough time when you're having fun!

Of course, there were things not-so-nice that happened, too. One year Bro. Breakfield dived off the end of the dock and broke his back. He had to wear a back brace for quite a while.

Mid-afternoon was a time for refreshments; most of the time it was a Popsicle or some Kool-Aid. But every once in a while, a load of watermelons would "appear' and everyone would be sliced a large, cold "smile" of melon! Yum-yum! Seed spitting contests ensued. I finally got the hang of spitting watermelon seeds, though I never got much distance—seed spitting, a real accomplishment--you never know what you might learn, find, or do at Central Florida Bible Camp!

Supper… Supper never seemed to come soon enough. If everyone was hungry at lunch time they were RAVENOUS at supper! It was devoured before anyone was sure of what they were served. It was good, though. H. Grimes and N. Rose were on hand to make sure it was.

After supper, there was a time to get ready for chapel. Those hot, sultry evenings made it hard to be enthusiastic about moving—anywhere. After a few minutes of singing, it seemed to not be as hot, even though the sweat was "tickling" down your face.

After evening chapel, we had some refreshment before we went back to the barracks for the night. It was a punch of some kind—lemonade, fruit—and a cookie or two.

I don't know what was the most fun about camp—the getting ready part or the going part. Of course I had a small advantage over most of the people, I got to witness a lot of things that most campers weren't privy to because of Dad's and Mom's involvement with handcrafts and the building of special things—like boats and Ping-Pong tables.

Some of the list of names of people I remember at CFBC at Camp lthiel… Prevatt... Gunselman... Chastain... Starling... Grimes... Rose... Brown... Breakfield... Sharp... Boyd... Patton.... Stutzman...  Feagin... and I have forgotten as many or more than I can remember. Some of the campers I remember... Lila S... Dorcas S.... Johnny S... Charles G... Kenneth G... Tommy B... Carol G... Beverly L.... Jillene R... Sherilyn S... Allie C... Lois S... Deborah S... Jon R... Don R... James B... Edward B... Cheryl B... Dottie S... Winston S... Most of those that I remember have been part of CFBC year-in and year-out through my whole CFBC experience.

Some of the special highlights of Central Florida Bible Camp when it was held at Camp Ithiel were Christmas in July—even Santa Claus in his beard and red suit showed up (someone was either really committed or needed to be because of the 90+ degree weather); Easter Egg Hunt (being as camp was always in the middle of summer we never had the opportunity of joining in on some of these things as a group); a magician (who revealed how to hide a scarf in his hand); the Friday night bonfire and skits. (One memorable skit was an operation—we found out what was really the matter with that counselor—a plaster of Paris heart, a length of garden hose for intestines, a pair of shoes, bottles, cans—he said he felt better after the procedure, I sure hope so.) Some were musically inclined. And one in particular could make chicken noises so well, you'd have thought you were in a hen house. (Initials C.B.) Once we even made a movie of about 60 campers getting out of Bro. Gunselman's weathered, red Volkswagon. I remember trying to scoot across the front seat and around the gear shift. It was accomplished rather quickly for the amount of campers involved and them climbing out of both front and back seats—from a two-door!

Camp became so popular a summer activity that it was expanded to TWO weeks and the number of campers increased so that we had to find a larger camp ground with more bed space. That's when we rented Camp Rotary in Auburndale, Florida.

Let me tell you a little about Camp Rotary.

Camp Rotary was a much larger camp facility. It had a main kitchen-dining hall-stage/auditorium building. Multi-purpose, you could call it, but it was air-conditioned! The front had a covered drive through that was utilized for classes... and Ping-Pong. There were several cabins at random on each side. There were no bathrooms in the cabins, only a bathhouse for each set of cabins. Directly behind the dining hall was a counselors’ cabin, and farther down the hill was a screen-covered porch that was used for handcrafts. The girls had the cabins on the left and the boys had the cabins on the right. We are talking 'rustic'...open ceilings, concrete floors, screens, just a couple of outlets and one overhead light (bulb). The bunk beds were eclectic... anything and everything. At the bottom of the hill was a huge lake with a large, long H-shaped dock.

Year after year, most of the same campers returned. Some of them had grown up enough to be Junior Counselors. Sherilyn S. and Allie C. were two of these. Sherilyn had the little girls’ cabin and Allie was Co-Lifeguard. Allie was the one who was designated to put cold alcohol in each swimmer’s ears to cut any infection that might be picked up from the water.

On the first day of camp each year that we were at Camp Rotary, you could hear shouts of old friends—“Are you going to stay both weeks, I am!" Then at the end of camp you could hear, "I'm going to come for both weeks next year!" if they had not but gone to just one week.

It seems that some things happen to dampen the fun, sometimes. One year at Rotary, my swim partner (we were both non-swimmers) disobeyed the rules of swimming and it almost cost her dearly. Campers were jumping off the end of the dock and having a big time. She decided to go join in on the fun. Well, she didn't move away from where they were diving and was knocked further under water by someone who jumped in on top of her. It knocked the air out of her and when she was brought up after someone discovered her, she was starting to turn blue. Fortunately for her, the lifeguards knew mouth-to-mouth and revived her. After a trip to the hospital, she was pronounced O.K. Rules are made to protect…

There were some good times and some growing experiences at CFBC, also. Some of the older campers—Teenagers—formed a singing group. Bro. Arnold was their leader and some of the members were Dottie S., Allie C., and Cyd T. I don't remember exactly who else was in it, (maybe if you cross paths with any of these, they will be able to tell you.) They were pretty good by weeks end. (Dottie S. and Attie C. went on to sing at CH&BS). The group would sing at meal time and at chapel.

Long lasting friendships were made and future husbands and wives were campers at CFBC together. (W.S. & P.T.; J.B. & H.S…) (Maybe Bro. L. B. had something to do with it—in a way. He was always teasing any of the couples—or even just good friends. Maybe that either awakened more interest or made them look for someone else. Who knows?) The interest in the opposite sex was awakened at camp, too, as is sometime very evident. Camp has a way of becoming a part of your thinking and you seem to plan some of life's activities around it.

One very overwhelming fact about going to camp at Rotary, was that they really knew how to grow mosquitoes in Auburndale! Dorcas S. always commented on the size of them. She insisted that one group made nightly sorties from the rafters above her bed. If the ones at Ithiel were soldiers, these were generals! They were HUGE!

It wasn't long that the realization was that before long a new camp facility would be needed. A piece of land was bought near Montverde. It had two small lakes and a lot of oak and pine trees, but no buildings except one small cabin and a pump house. Before any hard plans could be made for the place, it was resold and 80 acres at Lake Tuttle were bought—a better deal.

That was in 1965.The new grounds had several buildings that could be readily used, a lake that was swimmable, and plenty of room to expand.

The camp grounds were rather primitive compared to what they are today. There was a caretaker’s house with a couple of storage sheds behind it. A two-story house was further down the hill and a cabin with a screened porch was a couple of hundred feet from that. There was a small storage shed up the hill from those two houses. (Near where the dining hall side porch is now.) There were six cabins moved across the lake from Tavares. (Bro. O. Boyd discovered their need to be moved from property that was to become part of the widening of 441 and got them for the camp. A lot of planning had to be done to accommodate the number of campers in the available housing.

The screened porch cabin was utilized for the girls. Bunks were crammed in sardine-fashion. Curtains were hung on the windows for privacy—screens don't allow for much of that. The two-story house was used for the dining-hall downstairs and counselors sleeping quarters upstairs. The boys were in the cabins across the lake. The small storage shed and a few sawhorse and plywood tables under the trees served for handcrafts,

One year, shortly after starting camp at Lake Tuttle, I remember Dad building a "pre-fab" building—siding and roof and windows and doors and all—in sections—to be taken out to camp on a trailer and fastened together. It was built for a handcrafts building, but it was used for a boys’ cabin. One advantage the boys had using it for a cabin—they didn't have to sweep the sawdust floors. One disadvantage—sawdust in all your clothes!

As the years passed, and the need for more housing was evident—and the money was raised—cabins started springing up on both sides of the lake. The screened-porch cabin was renovated a couple of times—to enclose the porches and to re-do the bathroom area. J. Boyd and J. Boyd helped in this project. They also helped with the bath house at the swimming pool along with B. Brown and others.

I remember one year (after the new dining hall had been built) Loreda Patton was the girls’ cabin counselor. A few of us girls wanted to "confab" after lights out, so she said we could go into a small back room where no one was staying, and talk—if we would be very quiet. There was all kinds of girl talk--most of us were long-time friends--and eventually the conversation got around to animal noises. C.B. made her famous hen noises (of which I sort of got the hang of how to do), D.S. was a real champ at pig noises. Someone made a galloping and whinnying horse noise. My specialty was cat noises. We were just having a fun time trying to out-do the others and making up stories that we were oblivious to someone listening at the window—the Night Patrol (a.k.a. Bro. Chastain)! We eventually settled in for the night and all got quiet. The next day, however, the dust started to fly! When cabin reports were made at breakfast, we discovered we had had an audience! The penalty for our late night get-together was to scrub the dining hall floor—during swimming time! Oh, for shame! Oh, the embarrassment! But, Sister Paton, being a good friend as well as responsible counselor, said she would take the punishment with us; because she had listened to us and our barnyard noises and had enjoyed them so much that it was all she could do not to laugh out loud while we were doing them… She especially liked the cat! We survived, anyway. (If you do plan to do anything like that—just be careful of the Night Patrol!) (Note: Confab—‘60's slang for confabulate, meaning to converse, chat.)

One especially interesting skit that was put on during those years was about a living picture. Inside an area, people were called on to be different parts of the picture and asked to make the indicated sounds that would depict what they were. One was chosen to be the frame. That was Vernon M. The frame was to encircle the picture. So he did—walking around and around the group. There was a cloud that billowed (the word "billow" was repeated by the "cloud"), majestic mountain (standing and looking majestic), wind ("whoosh"), trees (limbs uplifted), birds (chirping), brook ("babble"), and flowers ('bloom"). Soon the seasons changed. The clouds dissipated (the cloud left), the majestic mountain was still (the mountain left), the wind was quiet (the wind left), the trees were still (the trees left), the birds stopped chirping (the birds left), the brook stopped babbling (the brook left), and the flowers stopped blooming (the flowers left). "But, after all is quiet across the land, THE SAP KEEPS RUNNING!"

I understand the songs have become more sophisticated, too—like “Peanut Butter”! (Yeah, sure!) Of course, we learned some new religious songs. Two favorites were “Jesus Hold My Hand” and “Each Day I’ll Do A Golden Deed”. Those were requested a lot. Singing classes were fun, but what was hard to do was sing a song by singing the names of the shaped notes (like in The Sound of Music). Bro. L.B. Chastain does it well. Never could do that, myself.

One summer was a growing experience for me, really. Dorcas S. always liked to tell the story. When I checked in on Sunday afternoon, I was shorter than my mother. When I checked out on Saturday, I was taller!

The lake, one year, was off limits for swimming for some reason. So the campers were bussed to Christian Home & Bible School to use the pool. It was very time consuming and concessions had to be made with the schedule. It wasn't too long, though, before we had a swimming pool built.

At different times, many improvements were added—sewage treatment plant, open air pavilions for classes, a chapel, more cabins, game fields, new dock, handcraft pavilion, and RV hook-ups. The building is continuing, still.

My 17th summer (10 years as a camper), I was made a Junior Counselor for handcrafts. Mildred Boyd was the Senior Counselor for handcrafts. She made a token appearance each morning to see if all was going well. I usually poured plaster molds in the morning (thanks, for the lessons in plaster casting, Bro. Prevatt!), cut lanyard strips (I finally got the hang of making lanyards and was starting them for campers hundreds of times), and mixed paint (even made up some colors that weren't available at the store, especially skin colors). One morning, I was getting ready to mix plaster (I mixed it with my hand to make sure the consistency was right and to make sure it was all mixed), so I readied my molds by making them balance in the sand outside the craft shed and had my little supply of wires to put in the backs ready nearby. I proceeded to put dry plaster in my mixing can and went to get some water. On the way back, I started mixing the plaster and the consistency was getting right and all the lumps were out, and I was rounding the corner to start pouring, Lo, and Behold, if Bro. Patton hadn't been very helpful and picked my molds up out of the dirt and in the process scattered my wire! I had plaster drying on my hand and in the can and nowhere to put it! Talk about fast action! Bro. Patton was very apologetic and didn't try to "help" me anymore. (I'm over it now, Bro. Patton!) The next year I returned to do it again, but this time we were able to use the pre-fab building for handcrafts!

Mom took over handcrafts for several years after that. I was getting "too old" to do that kind of stuff anymore. But guess what? I still poured hundreds of pounds of plaster each year starting several months before camp was to start, so they would be dry and ready to paint. My nephew came for a visit one year. He was about 10 then. He helped in the craft pavilion and learned to make change. (That was an accomplishment for him because it had been giving him a problem in school previously.)

During that period, Dad was again the President of the camp, and I was his unofficial secretary (that means I didn't get paid) and did his correspondence to the Board.

In 1975 A.D. (after diapers), I returned to handcrafts with my little girl, Dee-Anna, to help me. She would clean tables and paint jars and help pour plaster, too. We even went to the craft stores to find neat stuff for handcrafts. Whenever we had a counselor that came and had a craft specialty, we made it available to the campers. Certain kinds of crafts had to be monitored because of the equipment involved. One year we had copper enameling. Spin Art was added for the younger set, copper molding, framing, book boxes were still a favorite, honeycomb wax candles, T-shirt painting, visor painting, once there was a little macramé, but the mainstay of handcrafts was the lanyards and plaster. Some campers wanted some of the crafts, but they wanted to buy finished products. Do-it-yourself was not to their liking.

After that, I had to concentrate on helping out with my Grandparents. I was still recruited occasionally to pour the plaster.

At some point during this time, the "Grin-Well" Brothers—John and Charlie—were "convinced" to take the helm of the operations of the camp as Coordinator and President. So far, they have steered the "Good Ship" CFBC on a good course. "Keep on keeping on." May it continue…

About 1980 (A.D.), when my older son was a few years old, I did the record for plaster. Five Hundred Pounds! I was pouring from first thing in the morning until supper, every few hours or so for about four weeks. The car was parked in the driveway and the carport was taken over by the Plaster Monster! (The early summer rainy season did not help matters a whole lot.)

I guess the main reason that I stopped doing hands-on help at Central Florida Bible Camp was that I was through getting "plastered" every summer. I had to clean up my act! That doesn't stop the waves of inspiration and nostalgia, though. Overcome by a sudden need to do something different, in 1990 (A.D.) the idea for the White Rabbit T-shirt came about. Dad had years before told that story at camp and every once in a while he would tell it again (and again). At the time it seemed that everyone had a POWER TEAM for one thing or another, so... the CFBC POW'R TEAM was born! THE PRESTEGIOUS ORDER of the WHITE RABBIT. I tried my hand at T-shirt painting and made up one to give to John G. Well, if he didn't go and have some made. (They do make a nice addition to any wardrobe!) People will give you a strange look, and some will even ask about it when wearing one of the POW'R TEAM T-shirts. Sometimes it pays to advertise.

Central Florida Bible Camp went international a few years ago. A family from Europe was here on vacation and enrolled their son at CFBC.

On March 13, 1993 a tornado hit Lake County from Astatula, Lake Jem, Mount Dora, Eustis and on to DeLand. The count of trees at CFBC that were eight inches in diameter or larger that were topped or blown over was 414. Tons of trees, (over 9700 tons ended up in the landfill) were destroyed. Some of the storage sheds on the camp grounds were destroyed. One was the pre­fab building Dad had made years earlier—small loss really, because it had deteriorated so much and had been used for so long. But, being as Dad has always said, "I have done so much with so little for so long, that I can do just about anything with almost nothing forever!", he was determined to keep the felled trees to become so much garbage. Enter SAWMILL MAN—risen from the sawdust of yesteryear, faster than a speeding turtle, able to leap tall tales at a single bound, destined to make a lot of noise--and a lot of sawdust! The Sojourners, who came to help clean up the camp grounds and the school grounds, helped begin the turning of trees into lumber. "Lumbering" right along with SAWMILL MAN, many have helped turn devastation into a new maintenance building (through a lot of county red tape).

New cabins are envisioned for CFBC, and more campers are coming each year. Camp has expanded from one week the first several years, to two weeks for several years, and now the whole summer is taken up with specialty weeks as well as regular weeks of camping. For several years, there was specialty week where campers could learn a variety of skills, depending on the counselors that were available to teach them. Some of the projects were Photography (with Bro. Dayton Smith), Mechanics, Horseback riding—using a nearby stable, and several others. Year round the camp is used by church groups, singles groups, winter weekend camping, ladies' camping groups, men's church meetings, Girl Scouts, youth groups traveling through from out of state, family reunion camping, and fund raiser dinners. The Labor Day Weekend Retreat and Bar-B-Q is always a last hurrah of the summer camping season.

CENTRAL FLORIDA BIBLE CAMP... the camp with a purpose... has maintained its purpose throughout these many years... to teach the Bible. Many campers have been converted and even non-campers who have just come to help. God Bless CFBC! God Bless the Contributors! God Bless the Campers! God Bless the Mission!

Many friendships have been made and kept at CFBC. Some, who have gone to camp together in years past, have made families together. Some former campers are now counselors or have their children attending. Friendships are made and kept. Christians are made and strengthened. Ain't it all amazing?

Not the end.... Just a good beginning....

Three Wooden Pigeons

Three wooden pigeons, three wooden pigeons,
Three wooden pigeons sitting on a fence.
Oh, look, one flew away!

Two wooden pigeons, two wooden pigeons,
Two wooden pigeons sitting on a fence.
Oh, look, another flew away!

One wooden pigeon, one wooden pigeon,
One wooden pigeon sitting on a fence.
Oh, look, it flew away!

No wooden pigeons, no wooden pigeons,
No wooden pigeons sitting on a fence.
Oh, look one came back!

One wooden pigeon, one wooden pigeon,
One wooden pigeon sitting on a fence.
Oh, look another came back!

Two wooden pigeons, two wooden pigeons,
Two wooden pigeons sitting on a fence.
Oh, look another came back!

Three wooden pigeons, three wooden pigeons,
Three wooden pigeons sitting on a fence.

John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt

John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt!
That's my name, tool
Whenever we'd go out
The people always shout
John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt!
Da, da, da, da, da, da, da....

There’s a Hole

There's a hole in the bottom of the sea.
There's a hole in the bottom of the sea,
There's a hole, There's a hole
There's a hole in the bottom of the sea.

There's a log in the hole in the bottom of the sea.
There's a log in the hole in the bottom of the sea.
There's a hole, There's a hole
There's a hole in the bottom of the sea.

There's a knot on the log in the hole in the bottom of the sea…

There's a frog on the knot on the log in the hole in the bottom of the sea....

There's a wart on the frog on the knot on the log in the hole in the bottom of the sea...

There's a hair on the wart on the frog on the knot on the log in the hole in the bottom of the sea...

There's a flea on the hair on the wart on the frog on the knot on the log in the hole in the bottom of the sea....

There's a mite on the flea on the hair on the wart on the frog on the knot on the log in the hole in the bottom of the sea...

There's a chigger on the mite on the flea on the hair on the wart on the on the frog on the knot on the log in the hole in the bottom of the sea...

Ma, I Wanna Go Home!

The meat balls that they serve you
They say are mighty fine
But one rolled off the table
And killed a pal of mine!
Oh, I don't want no more of camp life!
Ma, I wanna go home!

The coffee that they serve you
They say is mighty fine
Looks like colored water
Tastes like turpintine!
Oh, I don't want no more of camp life!
Ma, I wanna go home!......

(Verses were made up)

Froggie Went a Courtin’

Froggie went a courtin',he did ride
Rink-turn-ball-tum-ki-mol
Sword and buckler by his side
Rink-turn-ball-tum-ki-mo!
Ki-man-e-ro down the Ki-ro,
Ki-man-e-ro Ki-rol
Straddle-lad-a-laddle
Bob-ba-laddle-bob-o-link-turn,
Rink-tum-ball-tum-ki-mol

Rode up to Miss Mousie's door
Rink-turn-ball-turn-Id-mo!
Said,"Miss Mousie will you marry me?"
Rink-turn-bailturn-ki-mol
Ki-man-e-ro down the Ki-ro,
Ki-man-e-ro Ki-rol
Straddle-lad-a-laddle
Bob-ba-!addle-bob-o-link-tum,
The wedding feast was a sight to see!
Rink-turn-ball-turn-Id-mol

Way down yonder under the old oak tree.
Rink-turn-bail-tum-ki-mol
Ki-man-e-ro down the Ki-ro,
Ki-man-e-ro Ki-ro!
Straddle-lad-a-laddle
Bob-ba-laddle-bob-o-link-tum,
Rink-turn-ball-turn-ki-mo!

‘Round the Mess Hall You Must Go

(Tune of London Bridges. Fill in name or names.)
‘Round the mess hall you must go
You must go, you must go.
‘Round the mess hall you must go _______

The Story of the White Rabbit

Once upon a time, the King of the forest had a daughter who wanted to get married. He decided to have a contest to decide who would be worthy to marry his daughter. He invited all the dwellers of the forest to come and try to win the contest. A house was to be built for the King's daughter and the future bridegroom, the winner of the contest. The building of the house was to be the contest. The King said, "If anyone can build a house for my daughter between sunrise and sunset, then they can have her hand in marriage."

The Lion came and said, "I am the strongest. I will build the house."
"You may try," said the King. The Lion tried and failed to complete the house by sunset.

The Elephant came and said, "I am the biggest. I will build the house."
"You may try," said the King. The Elephant tried and failed.

The Giraffe stepped forward and said, "I am the tallest. Let me try."
"You may try," said the King. The Giraffe, too, tried and failed.

The King wasn't sure that he had picked the right contest, because all the suitors were failing the task. Soon a small White Rabbit stepped forward and asked, "May I try?" The King was amused by the courage of the little White Rabbit and said, "Yes, you may try."

Early the next morning, when the King looked out of his window, he saw a little White Rabbit hop out of the bushes with a brick and lay it in place. All day long, when the King looked out to see the progress of the house he saw a little White Rabbit bound out from the bushes and place a brick. By sundown the house was finished.

The little White Rabbit came to collect on his prize. The king asked him, "The Lion was the strongest and he couldn't succeed at the task, and the Elephant was the biggest and the Giraffe was the tallest and neither of them succeeded. How did you do it?"

The little White Rabbit turned and with a sweeping motion, said, "With a little help from my friends," pointing to the many white rabbits sitting on the distant hill.

With the spirit of cooperation any job can be a success!