Indy's Camp Aharah Memories

In the summer of 1988, I was no longer a Counselor in Training. At 17, I could assume the role of Junior Counselor. For the first time, I was part of the real camp staff; no more dishes to wash in the mess hall; no more shoveling sand on the beach. I could have nights out. I received an actual paycheck at the end of the week, a sweet fifty dollars for my time. The junior staff had more experience with the camp itself than other staff members. Most senior counselors would be there for only a summer or two. We were the crew who, for one reason or another, could not quit the place. I had been coming up to Camp Aharah for at least a couple of weeks each summer for the past nine years. I knew the secret places: the clearing beyond the archery range (site of my first tentless camping experience), the sunken cabin in the swamp, and the climbing tree out by the old railroad bed. I took great pride in my ability to navigate at night and rarely took a flashlight in the cabin area after dark. Th

The story of the Ground Creature was perfect for Camp Aharah. It combines the unique history of the place, a fear of abandonment, and physical “evidence”. As a child, I had more than one counselor find a soft spot of earth, probably over some rodent’s burrow, and declare it a Ground Creature tunnel (Hopefully, he’s not around!). Also, with one exception, the cabins at the camp were raised on cinder blocks. The story was that years ago, the creature had burst through the floor of Seminole cabin and knocked over a gas lamp, starting a fire. The camp rebuilt the structure on a solid concrete slab as a preventive measure.  Here is the story as I remember it: A few years before Camp Aharah transitioned from a logging camp to a camp for children, the camp owner built a summer home for his wife and family to escape the city. The place overlooked a pond some distance from the main camp, an ideal place to relax. However, the family held a closely-guarded secret. One of their children was menta