On an August weekend in 1974, Wanake staff learned that the Christian practice of welcoming needy strangers is not as simple as it sounds and can throw routines off balance. I was managing the camp that summer as David Schar had assumed responsibilities for Camps Wesley and Zimmerman as well as Wanake. Unfortunately, both Dave and Sharron were gone that weekend. On Saturday afternoon, I was calling volunteer counselors to fill a cancellation for the next week when Merl Savage called me outside the Inpost barn. A man approached us—speaking broken English about his broken down travel trailer, and waving $150 in my face. He asked to camp the weekend so that he could fix his trailer. Merl and I were caught off guard, and explained that we didn’t have public camping facilities (there was only a pit toilet in the orchard then). But the man was desperate, and so we agreed. I accepted the money and intended to refund part of it as a deposit, and Merl showed him to the orchard. In a few hours, 10 trailers had circled the orchard shelter. When they refused to leave, I called the police, who arrived, traced their license plates to Bradenton, Fla., and called authorities there. They indicated that these harmless people were up north picking crops, and then laughed saying, “You have a band of modern day gypsies on your hands.”

They fit the stereotype well. For most of the night, the gypsies played fiddles, tambourines, and “danced around the campfire light to a ‘gee-tar’ melody.” The reaction of Wanake staff was divided. Some greeted them and enjoyed plates of their campfire stew. Others were amused but appalled, saw that we were being used, and wanted them gone. I worried about security and damage to facilities. The gypsies left at dawn before campers arrived on Monday, and it took Merl and I half the morning to clean up the orchard. We learned later that public campgrounds in the area had turned them away. Perhaps this accounts for our stranger’s desperation and deception. Since then, I’ve met many more needy strangers, and learned that some approach us with mixed intentions. But like the “Wanake” gypsies, they succeed in throwing our lives off balance—often giving us an opportunity to see the truth about ourselves, and the possibility of a new occasion to receive God’s grace.

By Jim Tichenor

The first time i went to Wanake was vary cool I met a counselor,her name was Bethany oh my gosh she is so nice to me. Bethany is a Pines person so she mite be my person who watches over me but she is a counselor. But this is my first time at Wanake so i am cinda SCARED but it will be ok i think. I can’t wate till then!

By Delanie