In the early summer of 2002, when I was just seven years old, I camped with nine friends at Camp Davidson, located near The Three Sisters volcanic peaks in Oregon. It was a week-long excursion as part of our youth group program known as Kiddie College.
We departed South Hills Assembly of God at sunrise in a white unmarked van. Just as the van drove out of the parking lot onto Hilyard Street, one of our two Sunday school teachers looked back, the one in the passenger seat, of course, and said, "Are you all thrilled for camp?"
"Yee-haw," I said. I clapped my hands and heard the cheers of other children my age around me. The van was full of mostly young boys, two Sunday school teachers (one male and one female), and two young girls, all of whom were full of excitement. Seated on the opposite sides of me were two boys. To my left was Eddie and to my right was Chris. I was a rambunctious sort of seven-year-old, seated on the middle seat and emphasizing the van taking sharp corners by leaning and rubbing my shoulders against my friends until they did the same back to me. We played eye spy, and in some sort of preparation, we sang, "99 bottles of drinks on the wall." We couldn't say the word beer because we were all way too young for that word, and since we were in a church group setting, saying that word would certainly be troublesome and frowned upon.
By the time we were near the campground, nearly four hours after our departure, I was car sick with a headache and nausea, but that didn't take away the thrill. When the van pulled off the highway, I saw a brown wooden sign that read: Camp Davidson. Everyone's excitement grew louder and louder, even my own. "We're here, everyone, we're here." I looked out the windows; a vibrant blue lake was to my left, and to my right, a forest of burned down trees in black and gray ashes. They looked like they surrounded the camp. They gave me a feeling of unease and bewilderment.
The van parked near a large, rectangular, two-story building, and as everyone offloaded, our two Sunday school teachers who sat in front went to the back of the van and opened the trunk, so everyone could remove their suitcases, sleeping bags, and backpacks. Once everyone had their provisions, the teachers checked in with the camp officials, and soon after, we were guided by a camp counselor to our rooms with many bunk beds. The boys went to the boys' room while the girls went to their room on the second floor.
After unloading and making our beds, a skinny man in his early twenties came inside and said, "I'm another one of your camp counselors for your week here at Camp Davidson. In ten minutes, we will have roll call outside this building at the flagpole. You'll find it out front. We'll be checking to make sure everyone is out there. This will be the start of your experience with us. Let's have some fun."
The camp counselor went to the other bunk rooms nearby to inform other campers. We heard his voice mumbling through the walls to other children from churches all across Oregon, whose parents also signed them up for this camping trip.
I left the room early and was one of the first kids from our room to stand outside. Cones with each room number were lined up, spread across the spacious gravel driveway. When the ten minutes were over and everyone stood outside behind the corresponding cones, the counselors started the process of roll call. I saw over a hundred kids standing in anticipation for the day's adventures.
After roll call was finished and everyone was accounted for, the camp counselor who visited our room stood on the second floor, holding onto a railing, and said into a megaphone, "Welcome to Camp Davidson. Each morning at 6 AM, we will start roll call here. Then we will go to the breakfast hall, and then split up to various activities around the campground. After dinner, we will be attending the worship hall over there, and bedtime will be at 9 PM each night in your rooms. If anyone is caught outside of their room after the curfew, there will be penalties for that, including the likelihood of being sent home. We don't want that, but I must say this for safety reasons. We will be having lots of fun here. We have a zip line, rock wall, swimming pool, mini-golf course, a bounce house, and many other activities for you to do, including competitive challenges for all camp-goers. For each bunk room (every room has the same number of campers inside), there will be a set of challenges against other bunk rooms for the grand prize at the end of the week. The grand prize for the winning team gets an extra day here at camp. The losing team, however, will plunge into the lake at midnight when the water is coldest, in front of everyone; a tradition we've had for decades."
After the counselor introduced the week's activities, he led everyone through a set of stretches and exercises. We gave each other shoulder rubs and even played Simon says.
We had still an hour before lunch. The counselor said, "I want to take everyone on a walk to the field nearby for a story that our pastor will share with you. There was a miracle here, a miracle of God, and this will lead into the week's activities and worship."
One by one, we followed our Sunday school teachers who followed the main camp counselor to a spot in the wide-open field. When we arrived, I sat with our group and waited for everyone else to find their spots on the grass.
There was a cement stage in the corner of the field, and after everyone found a place to sit, the counselor stood on stage with a handful of other counselors and an older man with graying hair in casual clothes who we learned shortly later was the pastor. After a second short introductory welcome by the same counselor, he introduced the pastor onto the stage, now standing next to him. The pastor would oversee many of the camp's operations, plus all the Biblical teachings after dinner each night of our stay.
When all the over-zealous kids around me settled down, the pastor started a story that I'll never forget. "How many of you kids believe in God?" When he asked that, hands flew up in the sky, an entire group of about 100 to 150 kids with their hands raised. I didn't see anyone without a hand raised. "Wow," the Pastor said. "Incredible. This is so good." I looked around and saw my friend Eddie, smiling toward me with his hand stretched high into the sky. "How many of you experienced a miracle of God?" At that, hands went down except about a dozen who kept them raised. "I believe we have a God who moves in mysterious ways. You are all a part of a miracle that happened with us recently, something that we are celebrating and invite you all to celebrate with us." There was a pause in his speech, giving everyone the opportunity to listen I watched the pastor walk, collecting himself, from one side of the stage to the other and back to the center. "I want all of you to look around, each one of you, kids, Sunday school teachers, and camp counselors. What do you see?" We did as he said and looked around while we sat in the field.
"See all those trees that were burned up by the wildfires?" he said.
I nodded and continued listening, many around me were leaning toward the stage.
"A little over three weeks ago, a large wildfire encircled Camp Davidson. Dozens of firemen and firewomen fought the fires. Everyone I knew was sure that the camp would be destroyed. A group of us pastors prayed throughout the night. Then something happened early the next morning. The fires stopped. The flames that encircled the camp were once huge, climbing up trees and knocking them down and all. Then, in a matter of minutes, according to eyewitnesses, the fires went out. I know that may sound impossible to many of you but look at the devastation around our camp. God can do the impossible. Later we told the fire chief about our prayers, and although he wasn't a believer at the time, he even agreed. It was a miracle. It's God's love for each of you."
After the pastor said all that, there was an uproar of cheer from the kids and their corresponding Sunday school teachers. I felt a tear of joy roll down my cheek and clapped along with everyone, including our group from South Hills Assembly of God.
"As you all can tell, the fires were close to the camp. Look around us. The ashes reached the lodging center, the cafeteria, and around this field where we are now. After the fires went out, the fire crews finished sweeping through and made sure that all the embers were out, and they were. The firefighters marveled that this happened as it did, and the event here even made some of them curious about God, even believe in God, especially after the fire chief told the firefighters about our prayers. This all happened three weeks ago. During your stay here, I want you all to feel safe and know that you are safe. Enjoy our campsite, take a stroll, and reflect on what God has done. This miracle happened so all of you could attend camp. You are all about to have a wonderful time here at Camp Davidson. Allow me to lead us in prayer."
The pastor led us all in prayer. I couldn't help but peak my eyes open and look around at the ashes and burned up logs that encircled the camp, even the empty places over the horizon where the trees once stood. Camp Davidson was along a lake and several hills surrounded us, and from my spot on the grass, I could see where the collapsed trees were burned up, and the dozens of acres no longer contained with living trees or plants.
The trees, however, inside the camp were untouched, plants were full of green life, and many birds above us in the sky landed on those remaining trees.
During my stay at Camp Davidson, I spent lots of time walking around the camp, reflecting, and I saw how close the fires reached the buildings. There were cabins located at the far opposite end of the camp, and although nobody stayed in them that year since the ashes were so close to them (the smell was too strong there), I saw the black and gray ashes and burned up collapsed logs less than two feet from touching those structures. In many other areas, the ashes were a dozen feet away, but none of the structures were damaged. There were light and dark ashes covering the rooftops and spread throughout the campground, but all of the buildings were intact.
One night, I opened my Bible under the flashlight, and I read from Isaiah 55:8-9. It said: “For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways,” says the Lord." Then I read Matthew 19:26, "Jesus looked at them and said, "With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.""
We discovered that it was our group who won the contests (foot races, swimming, golf, Frisbee, climbing the rock wall, etc.). We won enough points to stay another day.
We felt bad for the losing team, so we joined them in their punishment for placing last, taking the midnight plunge into the frigid lake water. That day after we took the plunge, however, our group stayed another day, enjoying the zip lines, miniature golf course, the rock wall, and many of the other activities. We stayed until sunset. Then the van drove us back to South Hills Assembly of God to be picked up by our parents late at night.
I will never forget that experience. I remember going home, telling all my family, then later my friends, even members in our congregation, about the gray and black ashes I saw scattered around the camp, and how God didn't let the fires destroy Camp Davidson.
I do not own the image above. I found the image from a Facebook page for Camp Davidson many years before the fires happened (I believe the image is from the 1980's), the "AG" symbol on the left represents the Assemblies of God. Throughout winter, this camp was also used as a 'snow camp' for snowboarding and skiing.