Contents
Guide
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Dear Dana
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Amy Weinland Daughters
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Copyright 2022, Amy Weinland Daughters
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, digital scanning, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, please address She Writes Press.
Published 2022
Printed in the United States of America
Print ISBN: 978-1-64742-900-3
E-ISBN: 978-1-64742-406-0
Library of Congress Control Number: 2021921002
For information, address:
She Writes Press
1569 Solano Ave #546
Berkeley, CA 94707
She Writes Press is a division of SparkPoint Studio, LLC.
Book design by Stacey Aaronson
All company and/or product names may be trade names, logos, trademarks, and/or registered trademarks and are the property of their respective owners. Names and identifying characteristics have been changed to protect the privacy of certain individuals.
To Dana Dugas Rivera: Thanks for writing me back.
To Parker Rivera: Cant wait to, at the perfect moment, meet you in person.
To Dick and Sue Weinland: Thanks for encouraging me to follow through on every single ridiculous idea Ive ever had.
Prologue
I joined Facebook in August 2008. I had attended a reunion at Camp Olympia in Trinity, Texas, the summer camp Id grown up at, worked for, and eventually met my husband at.
It was also the font of many of my closest friendships, including Christy Jung McAlister, whom Id been besties with since 1991. It was Christy who encouraged me toor, rather, told me I was going toregister for a Facebook account.
I hadnt been at all interested in social media and had never joined any of its early formats, such as MySpace. Thats ironic, because I love the idea of reconnecting with people. Reunions had always intrigued me, and, despite my lack of experience with them, they emotionally resonated on a level that made no sense.
I also love shenanigans, and being the center of attention, and being ridiculous. As it turned out, social media and I were a match made in heaven. I just didnt know it yet.
I officially went online on August 27, 2008, adding my first eight friends and writing my first-ever post on Christys time-line.
Are you putting Sour Patch Kids and a special helmet from rocketry in your evacuation room? Hoping the hurricane avoids NOLA completely! Thanks for telling me to get on FB Ive gotten nothing done all day and I LOVE IT! Let the toilets clean themselves!
The next day, I updated my status for the first time in history, setting the standard for all the tomfoolery to come.
Amy Weinland Daughters is doing morning aerobics and yoga in a unitard.
It didnt take long for Facebook to become a big part of my everyday life, to the point that now, a decade later, its difficult to imagine a day where I dont check in on social media at least once (or fifteen, or twenty-five times).
As much as social media has transformed my daily routine, I could never have known that August 27, 2008, the day I joined Facebook, would eventually alter the entire course of my liferelationally, emotionally, and spiritually.
It would take a while, but nothing was ever going to be the same again.
1 The Road to 1986
Camp Olympia has long been the epicenter of my life. A summer sports camp in the piney woods of East Texas, Olympia was founded by former University of Texas football players and close friends Chris Gilbert and Corby Robertson. In 1968, as underclassmen at UT, the two envisioned a summer program that would be heralded as the best not only in Texas but in all the world.
In the eyes and hearts of many Olympians, including me, the two achieved their goal by creating a place that is like a relational microwave. In the same way that you can zap a frozen pot pie in a microwave in a quarter of the time it would take in a conventional oven, at camp you can acquire a best friend in mere weeks, compared with the years it takes outside the front gates.
In some cases, a three-week camp session is enough to earn you a lifetime friendship. Though the exact chemistry involved is a mystery, it must have something to do with living in close proximity to a dozen kids and being totally removed from your normal life. Temporarily forced into a bubble, you find that the established rules of engagement and even the seemingly concrete boundaries of time are altered, allowing lasting impact to occur more rapidly.
I was introduced to Olympia, and the concept of camping in general, by my BFF in elementary school, Catherine Gilbert. Her brother, George, attended Olympia with one of his close friends. Eventually, Catherines parents, Edna and George, convinced mine, Dick and Sue, that Catherine and I should go as well.
It was 1980, a different era in parenting and information technology. Different enough that my parents dropped me, having never seen Olympias facility or met any of its staff, at a charter bus north of Houston to take the hour-and-a-half journey to Trinity. Along with a fresh bowl cut, I had a new Zebco fishing reel, a metal footlocker, and a stationery set to write letters home.
As with other significant turning points for me, I had no idea that when I stepped on that bus, my life would change forever.
After that first session, I was hooked. I fell in love with the program, the people, and, more than anything, the way the place made me feel. Though I was loved in my regular life, I had a difficult relationship with my mother and struggled with self-esteem issues. At camp, I felt accepted and even celebrated among the green buildings and tall pines. My years after that were defined by going to camp in the summer, missing it in the fall, and anticipating it in the spring. It was, even as I got older, everything.
In the second semester of my junior year of high school, driving and beginning to mature, I applied to be a counselor for the summer of 1985. Ill never forget pulling into the driveway after school and seeing a handmade poster on the back door, complete with balloons, that read, Amy WeinlandCamp Olympia Counselor. I dont know that my mom had ever made anyone else a poster, but she understood deeply how much the acceptance letter meant to me.
I worked one two-week session that summer and realized immediately that being a counselor at Camp Olympia was even more fruitful than the experiences I cherished as a camper. I knew I wanted to do it for as long as they would let me.
I turned eighteen in April 1986 and graduated from Klein Oak High School in May. My long-term plans were to attend Texas Tech University in the fall, and my immediate objective was to work the first two terms of the summer at camp.