A Brief History of Hidden Valley

Hon. William W. Lipsitt

One's memories of adult scenes fade with age but the happy experiences at the Hidden Valley Boy Scout Camp

remain a lifetime.

The summer months of 1929, 1930 and 1931 were an eventful segment of my youth. In those days, the Harrisburg

Area Council was comparatively small and the boys in the city seemed somewhat close-knit. A certain number of us

looked forward to the excitement of the days at Hidden Valley. The camp location had been a hunting site, owned by

three Harrisburg businessmen, which was purchased by the Council. The purchase was made possible by a generous

gift from Mary Sachs in 1926. Originally, there were four colonies, each with four wooden frame structures (there

were no tents), a central dining hall, a health clinic, headquarters and trading post, circular campfire setting and, for

necessary purposes, there was a place called Hinkerville. Sherman's Creek, muddy as ever, served for swimming and

canoeing activities.

Most troops came to camp for one or two week periods. I was in Troop 10, sponsored by the Ohev Shalom Temple,

and several of us stayed the entire eight weeks. We occupied the "Great Stag" location, but of course, other troops

shared the colony with us. Troop 19 of Grace Methodist Church also had Scouters who remained for the full summer.

They occupied the Beaver Colony. If my memory is correct, the cost was ten dollars per week, so our parents were

happy to have the camp staff take care of us for most of the summer vacation.

The head of the camp was our Council Executive, Chief Sparrow. He lived at camp with his family. I remember that

he had a good looking daughter - even as teenagers, it was nice to see a pretty face - and I believe that she married

our swimming instructor. The assistant Chief was Scotty Burgoon, a popular character and real outdoorsman. Scotty

was the examiner for several merit badges; we had to build our own adirondack lean-to for the Camping badge and

Scotty required a Scout to eat his own cooked hunters' stew and dough twist to earn the Cooking merit badge. I

twinge a bit, even today, when I think of what went into my stomach. Every fellow I knew wanted to become an

Eagle and camp was the place to earn your merit badges as the facilities for the outdoor badges were readily

available.

The staff included adults and older Scouts. Dr. Fluke took care of our medical problems, ordinarily a dose of castor oil

for a variety of aliments. Among the older Scouts was Elmer Myers, who played football for the William Penn 1928

state champions,, Charley Baltimore of the John Harris 1931 state champions, Ivan "Jack" Glace, center for the John

Harris basketball team, Wilson Everhart, currently a well known area physician, and two of the Herbert brothers. Dick

Herbert, before his recent death, was a nationally recognized sports' writer and Albert Herbert is today quite

prominent in many community activities. One of my long time friends since camping days is Dick Goldsmith of the

highly regarded furniture store family. At camp, when we had meat, the gravy was put separately on the table in a

bowl. Unfortunately, it was placed in front of Dick at one meal, and mistaking it for soup, he proceeded to eat all of

the gravy. One night a week, Doutrich's Men's Store, which had the franchise for Scouting clothes and equipment,

supplied pies and that was a gala evening.

The colonies (Red Cloud, Beaver, Chipmunk and Great Stag) were athletic rivals. Softball was the big sport. When

Troop 24, Second Baptist Church, was in camp, they would annually win the championship, most often representing

Beaver.

There was a bugler who awakened us, called us for meals, played daily for the retreat ceremony, and put us to sleep

with Taps. Perhaps the most special occasions were around the campfire, singing old favorites and World War I tunes.

And, of course, there were the macabre, weird, incredulous campfire stories.

It has been said that no first rate Council could exist without a good camp. I do believe this is true for without the

camping adventure, Scouting is without lifeblood.

William W. Lipsitt