In the early ’40s, Dr. Richard R. Caemmerer wrote open letters to Chief Weihermann, which were featured in The Walther League Messenger. (You can find copies of these letters in Chapter Seven of “Camp Arcadia – The First Sixty Years by Frank W. Miller.)
At that time, Dr. Caemmerer was teaching at Concordia Seminary St. Louis while Chief made his preparations for the Camp season. Does this sound like another duo you know? At a recent event in St. Louis, Dr. Ryan Tinetti wrote and shared an open letter to Chip, an homage to the correspondence between Caemmerer and Chief.
Dear Chip,
It’s time to start looking ahead to summer in Arcadia, I hear. Eagerly anticipated emails are hitting inboxes. Staff are being interviewed and invited to join the special fraternity. Days are slowly lengthening and Lake Michigan’s shores will be filled with the sound of joyous laughter before too long.
In one of his letters to Chief, Dean Caemmerer wrote, “There’s a lot about Arcadia, Chief, that you don’t realize until you’re away from it.” Ain’t that the truth. You know very well that it’s been quite a year of transition for the Tinetti family. The Lord called us out of Arcadia and here to St. Louis. I won’t say we left kicking and screaming exactly, but He sure had to peel us away like a stubborn label.
St. Louis is fine, as far as cities go, but the quest to live quietly is much more challenging here. We miss Arcadia’s clear dark nights when you can feel like Abraham under the starry sky. There are more stop lights within a mile of our house than there are in all of Manistee County. If I want to hike in the woods, I can’t just mosey out the door to the Chief Trail.
You don’t realize what a calming, reassuring presence Big Blue is until you don’t have it a stone’s skip away (you also don’t have easy access to stone skipping). Instead of “the voice of the Lord roaring in the thunder of mighty waters,” as the Psalmist says, we hear the roaring of car horns and angry neighbors. Oh, I don’t mean to romanticize; I remember well our first week living in Arcadia, when I was roused out of my morning reverie with the POP POP POP of gunshots (Opening Day). But there’s no question that the quietness of Arcadia is a great gift.
I say all this, too, knowing that the quiet recalibration for guests that happens at Camp Arcadia is only possible because you and Sarah, Rachel and Franco, Kyle and now Shelley, not to mention Ryan and Stephanie and so many more besides—our “vacation with God” in July is only possible because you all work your hind tails off in January. We’re grateful for it.
Meanwhile, we’ll look forward to and long for the place that most feels like home. God had to peel us away from Arcadia like a stubborn label, I say, but peel me He did. That’s his prerogative. But the residue of Arcadia assuredly remains. There’s no goo gone that can get that out of my soul, and I hope there never will be.
Till we meet again on Lake Michigan’s shores,
Pastor T.
One Response
Thank you for sharing your story of faith, family and fellowship that truly renews the spirit, mind and body!
I enjoyed seeing the bond between you and Chip at camp, in the community and at church as well as in your campfire talks.
You are both brothers in the spirit of our Jesus!
God likes to connect the dots in His story of gracious grace!
To God Be The Glory!