Camp Byron Entrance
Camp Byron was a Methodist meeting place at its inception in 1848. The Methodist Church in nearby Byron Center held their annual revival meeting at the camp every year starting in1848, only missing one year during the Civil War. (Courtesy Photo)
Special to United Methodist Insight | May 7, 2025
Church camp, when I was a 13-year-old farm kid, was a life-changing experience. My younger brother, Alan, got to go the year before, because Dad said I couldn’t be spared on the farm. And he certainly couldn’t spare both of us at once.
When my turn came, I relished every minute, discovering camp was everything Alan had described and more.
Did you get to go to camp as a kid: church, Scouts, 4-H, or other? Did it change your life?
Bud Lincks, of Fort Atkinson, Wisconsin, sent me this reflection called “Camp Byron Dreams,” about his church camp days in the mid-1950s.
Who Remembers Camp Byron? By Bud Lincks
Who Remembers Camp Byron? It was a Wisconsin Methodist Church campground. I attended week-long sessions in the month of June following my 6th, 7th and 8th grade school years. It was located within the town of Byron, in Fond du Lac County, near Oakfield, Wisconsin.
Camper Writes His Memories
Bud Lincks, 82, of Fort Atkinson, WI, heads a "Write Your Own Story" group at Jefferson, WI Senior Center. Writing one story per month, to read before the group, is his favorite activity. Lincks is a long time member of the Lake Mills United Methodist Church. (Courtesy Photo)
Why should I, at age 82, have feelings wash over me from when I was 12, 13 and 14 years old? So many memories of those early summer days! My first sojourn to Byron, was the first time I had been away from my immediate family, on my own, for 7 days. Other young people from my home church also attended those sessions, some from 6th grade, one girl from 7th grade. Our pastor was a counselor, but in a different cabin.
None of us Lake Mills/Milford kids were in the same cabin or hall. We were each mixed in with others of the same gender, but from different locations within Wisconsin. When we went to mess hall, three times each day, we sat at tables assigned to our residence group.
Groups were assigned duties for individual days. Some of us served prepared food to our own, and other tables. We also picked up empty bowls and other table service, returning it to the kitchen where we washed it, stored it and cleaned and set the tables in preparation for the next meal.
During free time each afternoon, we could explore the grounds: go to canteen or swimming pool. The pool was brand new the first year, and it was nothing fancy. I remember seeing kids from my home church and comparing notes with them. They, too, were in their first such experience.
Afternoon swim
The in-ground swimming pool was built at Camp Byron in the1950s. (Courtesy Photo)
Over those three years, I met many other young folks, some during all three years. I remember an overnight remote sleep out in tents that had been erected on wooden platforms. We "hiked in" and set up our cots. We each took along mosquito spray which was badly needed. One boy sprayed his girlfriend's name on the tent's side, over his cot. The next morning, the sun illuminated his previous evening's handiwork. As they say, "It stood out like a sore thumb!"
My favorite activity was exploring the rock outcroppings of what is the western terminus of the Niagara Escarpment. A couple other boys and I explored every nook and cranny there was to offer. We crawled in several small caves and up and down over the rock faces.
The first two years’ sessions were a delight. I still remember the rock climbing, volleyball and tennis games. On Saturday evening, we had an outdoor worship session with a huge bon fire. We were given opportunity to reflect on our week's feelings, to ourselves and before the assembled group.
The third year, the older campers tended to "pair up" with members of the opposite gender. I was not ready for that. The boys I'd known from years one and two were involved with girls, so, when one young lass “claimed" me as her boyfriend, I succumbed. Apparently, I didn't live up to her expectations in the long run.
Camping Group
Bud Lincks’ cabin group at Camp Byron circa 1955: front, left to right, Corey, Bud Lincks, and a fellow camper; back left to right, Juvie, Ken Baughman, Dennis Bade, Rev. John Francis. (Courtesy Photo)
Each day, we had a worship service in "The Tabernacle." Eighth graders generally led these events. On Thursday evening, there was a talent show: singing, musical instruments, skits and the like. I helped one of my cabin mates to present an act with his ventriloquist's dummy. He and the dummy were on stage while I moved among the audience, shouting out answers to the dummy's questions.
Oh, I miss those days! I often think about now-defunct Camp Byron and its delights, a part of my growing up years. In my mind I can feel the place, taste the food, and smell the mossy growths on the rock faces. I remember only a few of my fellow campers; Molly, Connie, Marlys, Dennis, Ken and our pastor, Jack, and his associate, Paul.
Two campers have passed on; one at age 75, the other, murdered at age 65. The two pastors have passed on. One girl from our church, I haven't seen since early adulthood. I would have liked to date her, but, alas, she was "an older woman," being a year ahead of me. The others, I have lost record of. I remember their faces, but not their names.
I sit here and muse about those bygone days and replay them in my memories.
Camp Byron Dreams.
John Sumwalt 2024
The Rev. John Sumwalt is a retired United Methodist pastor and the author of “Vision Stories” and “How to Preach the Miracles,”