This past Monday in class we were challenged to reflect on “sense of place” and our feelings towards the culture and community of that place. There are many places in my life where I have felt at home but one place in particular resonated with me when I read the story of Black Hawk’s life. During my undergraduate years at Indiana University I would always work the same summer “job” at a wonderful place called Camp Tecumseh. This YMCA camp operates year round and is located on the Tippecanoe River near a small town called Brookston, Indiana. The purpose of the camp is to educate youth on the benefits of having a healthy balance of mind, body, and spirit and to teach Christian virtues to teenage youths. The camp is placed on 600 acres of forested land with log cabins and lodges dotting the landscape. It was here I would experience for the first time in my life a true appreciation of the beauty and tranquility of nature. I fell in love with the culture and community of Camp Tecumseh and as this affection grew I wanted to know more about the land surrounding Camp Tecumseh. I often would walk the forest trails in the morning wandering miles into the wilderness just to be alone beneath the pine trees. Here on this beautiful land I felt a connection with myself and God that I had never felt any place before. I also felt the history of this land was indeed sacred as it was common knowledge Tecumseh’s brother the Prophet had his village just 12 miles up the river from Camp Tecumseh. This connection between the land and its spiritual impact on me isn’t something I could necessarily describe in words. Thankfully, Black Hawk does a much a better job in describing his gratitude of nature’s provisions. “We thank the Great Spirit for all the benefits he has conferred upon us. For myself, I never take a drink of water from a spring, without being mindful of his goodness” (p.94 Jackson). Obviously, the connection Black Hawk had to his village was much deeper than mine ever could be yet my own experience helped me empathize with his plight. It truly saddened me to think Black Hawk had to abandon the land that had brought him so much happiness and joy in his life. What a tragedy of the human condition that we would deprive our fellow man the right to enjoy his commune with nature sacrificing it instead to the false idol of greed. Essentially, I think Black Hawk’s story reaches all of us in different ways and I think that was his intention in writing his life story. “I believe that every man must make his own path”-Black Hawk (p.93).
Thank You,
Cliff Jack
I fully agree with you about Black Hawk’s story touching each of us in a different way. While I was reading this heartbreaking story of Black Hawk’s courage and determination to hold on to his fathers’ land, I was watching on TV the suffering and killing of thousands of palastinians in Gaza. I couldn’t help but comparing the people of Black Hawk’s village and their journey of misery away from their homes to those Palastinians who were forced to leave their land, homes, and sense of citizenship to others to enjoy. Even with little or no means to defend his land, Black Hawk could never accept the idea of selling his land “I could not bring my mind to consent to leave this country to the Whites, for any earthly consideration” (107). He decided to fight than to submit. Likewise,the Palastinians have been fighting for years and refusing to give up on their dream that their land might someday be theirs again.
I fully agree with you about Black Hawk’s story touching each of us in a different way. While I was reading this heartbreaking story of Black Hawk’s courage and determination to hold on to his fathers’ land, I was watching on TV the suffering and killing of thousands of palastinians in Gaza. I couldn’t help but comparing the people of Black Hawk’s village and their journey of misery away from their homes to those Palastinians who were forced to leave their land, homes, and sense of citizenship to others to enjoy. Even with little or no means to defend his land, Black Hawk could never accept the idea of selling his land “I could not bring my mind to consent to leave this country to the Whites, for any earthly consideration” (107). He decided to fight than to submit. Likewise,the Palastinians have been fighting for years and refusing to give up on their dream that their land might someday be theirs again.
Cliff,
I’ve never visited Camp Tecumseh, but your description compels me to make a visit! I have no excuse, especially since I pass through Brookston at least once a month when I go to visit family in Crawfordsville, IN, about 1 hour and 30 minutes south of Brookston. For me, I would have to say Crawfordsville represents a “sense of place” for me.
I’ve not had the opportunity to grow up in one place. I’ve lived in Toledo, OH; Gonzalez, LA; Waterville, OH; Crawfordsville, IN; Valparaiso, IN; Jonesboro, IN; and now I’m back in Valpo. Louisiana is the only non Mid-Western state in the list above, so the Mid-West does hold a special place in my life.
I lived in Crawfordsville from age 11-16, a significant “coming of age” bracket, and one in which the dialect, country, and familial relations all worked together to mold me into the young lady I am today. Both sides of my family live in the Crawfordsville-Tipton radius, and I will forever remember those formative years as being the most influential, peaceful, and educational. The Lane Place, Ben Hur Museum (which I see we are to talk about Lew Wallace this coming class), and the Old Jail Museum each play significant roles in the history of that town (I had the pleasure of visiting each site this past summer).
The Lane Place is responsible for the annual Strawberry Festival, which takes place on its lawn every June. Mrs. Joanna Lane, sister-in-law of Lew Wallace, would provide strawberry refreshments to the soldiers during the Mexican-American War. Hence, the Strawberry Festival was born. The Ben Hur Museum is the study of Lew Wallace, author of Ben Hur. Wallace, along with Lane, helped establish the Republican Party in Indiana as well as cementing Abraham Lincoln’s nomination as president. There is also an annual old car show on the grounds of the Wallace Study. As for the Old Jail Museum, it is the only jail of its kind with a rotating cell block.
I have so many memories of traveling the cornfield roads of Montgomery and Fountain County, visiting the many natural springs, covered bridges, National State Parks, and small southern “hick” towns that still proudly display the Confederate Flag on their front porches. My family has a rich history in this part of Indiana, and whenever I visit my parents, I encourage my father to relate stories of his childhood, stories that teach me about my heritage.
A Sense of Place – Lutheran Valley Retreat
My favorite place, like Cliff’s, has always been camp. I grew up in Colorado and attended a summer Bible camp in Pike National Forrest, outside of Colorado Springs, called, Lutheran Valley Retreat (LVR). This place was special. For nine consecutive years, I slept in its cabins, hiked its trails, climbed and rappelled its mountains and learned more about God and His goodness than anywhere else.
One thing that makes LVR special is the challenges it presents. In the 1980’s, it took about an hour to travel the last 13 miles on the gravel road to the camp. The showers were really awful with just plastic shower curtains that wouldn’t cover completely. The cabins did not have heat or even electric lights. The program of activities included a lot of hiking, including an overnight trek down to, and UP from the Platte River during which we slept out under the stars. Once a week, we climbed Cedar Mountain, which involved trusting the spotters in a few places. Rappelling down a rock face required faith in the abilities of the counselors working the belay ropes. Bouldering (climbing up smaller rocks without ropes) made us rely on the rocks themselves. I remember pulling myself up one rock, called “Bugger”, by using a hand hold only as big as my fingertip. I was amazed at the strength of the rocks. Yet, on one excursion, we chose to explore a different rock outcropping, only to have it crumble upon our toes. We christened this dangerous rock “Cornflake” and were reminded of the mountain’s ominous power.
By facing these challenges of the land, I became a part of this place. When we returned with a youth group from Indiana in 1996, I needed to re-visit as many of these sites as possible. I needed to see the land again to remember and re-conquer. Once again, I felt like I belonged there and I wanted these new youth to connect with this place, too.
In 2002 the great Hayman Fire almost destroyed the camp. My family and I visited again in 2004. The fire indeed had been devastating to the camp. The shower house, outpost camp, and two of six cabins had burned. Many areas of the forest now only sported dead timber. But the land remained. In fact, it was now thriving. Since the towering Pine trees were gone, wildflowers were springing up as forest undergrowth. Aspen trees were reclaiming the lower canopy. New life was springing all around out of the fertilizing ashes of the fire. This special place would endure through its challenges.