Folsom Camp Blues

Have you ever been to a family reunion? I don’t mean to brag, but I’ll bet my family reunion story tops yours.

I have a large family and we get together as often as we can during the year for holidays, birthdays, and special events, but we have never had an actual family reunion…until last month.

When I was a child, my parents had a cabin on Little River Ranch in the Kiamichi Mountains of Oklahoma. We spent summers and as many weekends as possible at the cabin, and some of my favorite memories are of the times we spent there.

My sister-in-law, Susan, lives in Oklahoma, near the Kiamichi and Ouachita Mountains. There are tons of parks, rental cabins, and campsites all around her home, so when Susan suggested we find a place in the area to have a family reunion, we all agreed it was a great idea.

Only about half of our family members were able to come to the reunion, but we ended up with seventeen people, so we needed a place with several cabins, and/or a large campsite. Susan found a camp on Coon Creek called Camp Israel Folsom, which is part of the Cumberland and Choctaw Presbyterian Churches. The camp has a main building with restrooms, a kitchen, a large dining hall, and a room used as a chapel/meeting room. About thirty yards from the main building, there are several small cabins, each containing six sets of bunk beds, with a restroom/shower-house nearby. There is a playground, a basketball court, and a large covered picnic area, all surrounded by beautiful trees. It was perfect

Susan reserved the camp for the weekend of March 14 -16, which was spring break for both our Texas and Oklahoma family members. We all signed up to bring food and supplies or gave money to help pay for the provisions, and my niece, Sarah, b...

... middle of paper ...

.... However, in the morning, my sister told me that I had joined the chorus as soon as I fell asleep. Karma sucks.

I woke up early the next morning and watched the sunrise through the trees. It was peaceful and breathtakingly beautiful. Then I grabbed a cup of coffee and my camera, and documented the sodden campgrounds.

There would be no outdoor activities on Sunday either. No campfires, no kickball, no baseball, no fishing at the creek, and no hiking.

After a big breakfast of sausage, bacon, eggs, and biscuits, we visited some more, and then cleaned up the camp, packed our gear, and headed home; exhausted, un-showered, and covered in mud.

Our plans for a family “camp” reunion full of outdoor fun, games, barbeques and picnics did not work out as planned.

Yet, I can’t remember when I’ve had more fun.

I don’t mean to brag, but I’ve got the best family ever.