Lucia’s Corner

By Lucia (Juenger) Hodges

Anyone who has spent any time around an Ondessonk campfire has heard or maybe even told a seemingly plausible ghost story.

Imagine a unit of campers returning from evening activities, climbing treehouse stairs in nearly total darkness. Flashlights are unreliable and usually scoffed at by veteran campers and staff. Suddenly, there are terrified screams and angry shouts of “Something just grabbed my ankle! No, REALLY, I’m not joking.”

Understandably, unit staff are skeptical. Various plausible explanations are proposed. Campers are calmed, and the incident is forgotten, at least for the moment.

This scenario is repeated throughout the summer in nearly all of the east-side units. The story shared and elaborated, believed or doubted, becomes part of the legend and lore of Ondessonk.

I nearly forgot it myself until…

When we bought our house on Pakentuck Road, I made a point to meet and get acquainted with my neighbors. Some of them had lived on family land since before the inception of Camp. One of the more gregarious gentlemen was delighted to learn of my affiliation with Camp. He couldn’t wait to tell his story. It appears that with little to do in his teen years, Ondessonk offered a delightful source of entertainment. “I’ll never get over the sound of those screams!” He said, “I never got caught. I was so sneaky.”

Which of the unbelievable stories you know should be viewed in a different light?

Click here to learn more about Camp Ondessonk’s Mission and History.