8 | AUGUST 18 • 2022 

essay
Camp Brigadoon
I

n these days of COVID 
and climate change, the 
concept of a life-altering 
moment takes on an ominous 
tone. But back in simpler times, 
in the early ’80s, when we were 
growing our 
young family 
on Wayland in 
Southfield, we 
had a life-altering 
moment without 
realizing its sig-
nificance. 
Our neigh-
bors, Sue and Sandy, drove 
up on a summer afternoon in 
whatever pre-dated the SUV or 
minivan and began to unpack 
their family and belongings 
from a week’s vacation. Being 
neighborly and a bit nosy, my 
wife and I asked, “Where ya’ 
been?” Our neighbors (now 
life-long friends) proceeded 
to tell us about their week at a 
family camp for University of 
Michigan alumni “up north” 
near Boyne City. 
Camp Michigania ran all 
summer, but each family signed 
up for only a week. There were 
activities for kids and adults in 
a beautiful rustic setting, where 
families stayed in cabins, shared 
with other families. It sounded 
interesting to us. And from 
such mundane neighborly con-
versation an amazing tradition 
that has had a deep impact on 
our family was born.
If you are lucky enough to 
be able to have the time and 
resources for a summer family 
vacation, around here you’ve 
got quite a few choices. If you’re 
very lucky, you have a family 
cabin near a lake, so you can 
make multiple trips through the 
whole year. But, if you’re like 
most of us, your precious one-

week summer vacation requires 
planning and thought. You 
may wish to explore the beauty 
of Michigan and surrounding 
areas by going to different 
locations with your family each 
year. Another option is to find a 
“happy place” for you and your 
family and keep going back 
there year after year. You will 
miss out on many of the beauti-
ful vistas in our summer water 
wonderland in exchange for the 
sense of tradition that comes 
with a return to the familiar.

OUR HAPPY PLACE
We went to Camp Michigania 
the next year and, despite the 
lack of creature comforts, we 
just fell in love with the beauti-
ful setting of cabins, grass and 
trees and sandy roads (leading 
to sand in your shoes, in beds 
and in unmentionable body 
parts) around the fabulously 
blue Walloon Lake. 
 We loved how our kids had 
their own activities led by 
counselors, which freed up 
moms and dads to have time to 
do their own things, from ten-
nis to sailing to biking to arts 
and crafts during the day. And 
then we would come together 
as a family for meals and activ-
ities together in the late after-
noon and early evening. After 
our first week at camp, I wrote 
my first of maybe a hundred 
song parodies, this one to the 
tune of “Bye Bye Love” (“Bye 
Bye home, Bye bye dull routine, 
Hello air that’s clean!”). We 
were hooked. We couldn’t wait 
until the next summer!
We began a pattern of attend-
ing camp each year with a few 
friends who also brought their 
kids. Some of our traveling 
companions went only for a 

year or two and then opted out 
of camp to seek out venues with 
more creature comforts. But 
a few of our best friends and 
their families, like us, chose to 
come back year after year. 
We found ourselves feeling 
like a part of a new extended 
family. After a few years, we 
found a certain week where we 
just fit in the best … and we 
became fourth-week campers 
“for life.
” There were always 
a few newbies who joined us 
every year as well as some 
transplanted folks from other 
weeks. But we dyed-in-the- 
wool fourth-weekers felt like a 
big family — one week a year. 
Hence the title of this piece 
… “Brigadoon” … like the vil-
lage that came alive once every 
hundred years to Lerner and 
Loewe’s tunes, Michigania only 
really exists for us for one week 
a year. But what a week! 
Camp came with a basic 
schedule that shifted only 
slightly through the years. Most 
activities were expected for a 
family camp: introductions at 
the flag pole, lunch and dinner 
menus tied to certain days of 
the week, water balloon tosses 
and three-legged races, a fun 
final day sailing regatta and a 

final night variety show. 
We began establishing our 
own rituals. An impromptu 
singalong on a front porch 
morphed into a well-attended 
first night singalong in the 
south camp gazebo, lit by lights 
strung by our fellow campers, 
complete with a printed book 
of songs we love to sing in a 
large-print edition (which sure 
has helped as we are getting 
older). 
Golf outings led to a golf 
tournament for all levels of 
golfers from experts to total 
duffers who only play once a 
year. Petoskey stone polishing 
turned into a group of campers 
singing “Rock-apella” parodies 
as they polished stones side by 
side, such as “I am your rock” 
and “God bless rock polishing.
” 
Our camp friend Roger began 
creating sand sculptures every 
day, until he was dubbed “The 
Sandman.
”

TIME WITH FAMILY
But mainly, camp consists of 
the gift of time with our kids. 
We watched our kids grow up 
at camp, being able to run free! 
(Kids get an “H” on their camp 
badge when they were able 
to find their home cabin on 

Jeff London and his grandson make music at camp.

PURELY COMMENTARY

Jeff London

