Hankins Tales: 1968, My First Year on Camp Powhatan Staff

(Originally posted to social media on March 25, 2021)

Once a week we got a night off. It was 1968 at Camp Powhatan and it was my first year on Staff. I was being paid a whopping 15 dollars a week to work in a place that I loved beyond measure.

A few of the older Staff owned cars and if you were not too much of a nerd you could get a ride into town. There were no guarantees that you would get back in one piece. Sometimes we would go out to a drive-in Movie in Pulaski but most of the time we were after food. Any kind of food as long as it was not camp food. Pizza or burgers or even a rare trip to the Lone Cedar near the lake.

Only a certain number of staff could be off on any given night. There had to be enough people to handle the situation if there was a Zombie invasion or if the trading post blew up which it was prone to do in those years. A night off was a chance to break out of the routine and get some good food and flirt with human women who did not care if you were dead or alive. But the favorite part of any night off was the coming back into camp. The full moon rising in the East set fire to Max Creek as you crossed the endless number of bridges. You could sense the pure mass of the mountains that loomed over you as the driver wound his way up that winding road.

We had to park in the main parking lot down near Cherokee Campsite and the group would disperse out into the night. I had a habit of breaking away and wandering over to the edge of the lake. The high rim near the campfire ring offered a place to sit and gather myself in a way that I have never forgotten. 10,000 whippoorwills would be dueling for the title of loudest whippoorwill on the planet. Bullfrogs and tree frogs would try to interject their opinion into the symphony of sound. Stars would be twinkling over Jersey ridge as the moon came rising over locust Thicket Mt. The woods on all sides would be filled with scouts and Leaders and there were still a few fires glowing in the campsites. At that point, I failed to fully understand what a special instant in time that really was. It is a memory that is engraved on my mind and it is permanent. It never fades and if I find myself in a moment of stress I can always go back to that place.

My tent was not far away. In those days My staff tent was down next to the parking lot. So I had the luxury of lingering in this place without feeling rushed. Camp is going to reopen this year as are many camps across the nation. It is my sincere hope that these kids can fully appreciate this remarkable place, I hope it reaches into their core and touches their heart and soul. I hope that it will keep them forever young..…

With permission of the author, these stories by noted scouter and storyteller John Hankins are featured here at Natahwop.Org. He shares these as part of the history and lore of Camp Powhatan, Camp Ottari, and the High Knoll Trail, where he spent many years of his youth. John has an incomperable first-hand knowledge of this scout reservation, as he blazed most of the original trails for High Knoll, and has hiked the rest of them several times over.

John Hankins grew up in Troop 50 (Woodlawn United Methodist Church) in Roanoke, VA. He attended Camp Powhatan as a young scout, then worked at Philmont Ranch as a ranger. He returned to the reservation to serve on camp staff from 1968 to 1978. He was a legendary naturalist who could interpret the outdoors unlike any other. As a teacher, John often relied on the element of excitement to get his point across. His weekly lectures at the nature lodge, for example, introduced scouts to either a live rattlesnake or copperhead – usually dangling on a stick within a few feet of the front row.

John and several others first envisioned the now-legendary High Knoll trail system. They took it to council leadership for prospective funding, where the idea gained several key advocates (but no funding). John recalls how – in those days – they couldn’t pay the staff with money, so they gave them patches. The High Knoll Trail would go on to become one of the best outdoor programs in the country.

John applied in 1979 for the open job of Camp Ranger, but the council said he needed more experience in that post. With his rejection letter in hand, he was immediately hired by Camp Chickohominy, and then by Camp Brady Saunders where he served for 33 years as Camp Ranger. John moved with his wife, Cheri, to West Virginia where they enjoyed the spoils of retirement: grandchildren, travel, and the great outdoors. As of 2024, they are living on the outskirts of Richmond where they can be closer to family.

(“Hankins Tales” are shared here by permission of the author. Each story is copyrighted by John Hankins, and may not be reproduced in any form without his express written permission.)

One response to “Hankins Tales: 1968, My First Year on Camp Powhatan Staff”

Frank Rives

June 19, 2025

John, great story, love your blog. Love the whippoorwills, and the screech owls and wood thrushes. This story puts me right there; I can see the lake at night, and hear the night music. I live so far away, I get there very seldom, but I will be there next week for the 2025 reunion. Hope to see you and hear some Hankins tales.

Frank Rives ’69-’75

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Hankins Tales: 1968, My First Year on Camp Powhatan Staff

One response to “Hankins Tales: 1968, My First Year on Camp Powhatan Staff”

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