We thought that we might mix it up a bit and post something rather new to include campers of today. Each summer we ask campers to write a poem or short story to be used as their meal ticket. Themes and subjects vary but all are based on the Dixie Spirit. This month we are posting a poem by Erin “Salty” Boyd a camper for 6 years. This year Erin will be a CT and thus making it her 7th summer at Camp Dixie.
Camp Dixie is great
Wouldn’t you agree?
Where the tiny frogs hop
And the butterflies fly free
When Pop J built this camp
99 years ago
It was only for the boys
Having girls was a no!
The sisters started to complain
Pop J said don’t be hating!
He built them a girl’s camp
Way up here in Clayton
The two camps were separate
But only for a while
Then the boys packed up and left
The girls welcomed them with smiles
Then one summer Miss Ann came
With the campers she did play
The next summer when she came back
She was there to stay
Miss Ann owned this camp
For a good many years
Then she passed away
And there were many tears
Now Rhonda owns this camp
It’s a job she does so well
Every summer the campers here
Think she’s very swell
The kids who come year after year
Make the memories great
Is this a big a coincidence?
Or is it just fate?
Every year when I arrive
I’m greeted with a smile
From counselors and CTs
Traditions here at camp aren’t sparse
But two stand out loud and clear
One is the tie around our necks
That reminds us friends are near
The second traditions happens once
Each year at summer’s end
A log at council fire is taken out
And passed on to remind us of our friends
Besides all of the traditions
You stay at camp is unique
Whether you stay for the whole summer
Or for only a week
Each year the girls do sisters
It’s always so much fun
We leave each other notes and gifts
Which strengthen bonds that have just begun
Each day we do five activities
That range from many things
From archery and riflery
To creekwalking and tra-mop-o-line
During free swim
At the dock you will see
Campers playing 7-9-12
Playing and swimming free
Every Thursday night
We camp out in the woods
We cook our own burgers
And hotdogs and they’re good
At the end of the week
When it’s time to say goodbye
The times spent here in Dixieland
Will be remembered for all time