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Until I was about 15, every year was defined by the 10 days I spent at summer camp.

My stays at Camp NeeKauNis, on the shores of Sturgeon Bay northwest of Orillia, only lasted a week-and-a-half at a time, but each one was an indelible experience I spent the rest of the calendar anticipating.

The overnight camp is run by Quakers, the pacifist Christian denomination that, for most Canadians, brings to mind the man in the black hat on the oatmeal box. But modern Quakers are a laid back, progressive bunch. And NeeKauNis offered a kind of freedom and outdoor experience unavailable to a kid like me growing up in suburban Etobicoke.

My parents started taking me there when I was a baby, and I returned almost every year until I was well into my teens, first to family camp with my mom, dad, brother and sister, and later to youth camps by myself.

I suspect that by the standard of most summer camps within a 90-minute drive of Toronto, NeeKauNis was rustic. The cabins looked like wooden shoeboxes furnished with little more than bare light bulbs and bunk beds topped with flimsy mattresses. Except for staff cabins there were no washrooms, and campers made use of unlit, bug-infested outhouses we euphemistically referred to as “kybos,” an acronym for an unprintable phrase.

But what it lacked in modern amenities it made up for in communal spirit. For an ostensibly Christian camp, there was little overt religion to the place. Instead, values of co-operation and honest work were woven into daily life. Campers were assigned to teams that took turns setting tables and doing dishes at every meal. There was a daily mandatory work period during which everyone pitched in to complete the tasks required to keep the camp in good condition.

As a city kid not used to swabbing dining hall floors or hauling seaweed from the beach, I chafed at the work. But it taught me that doing my part was important.

Aside from chores and mealtimes, there weren’t always organized activities. Often my brother, sister and I were free to roam outdoors. It was a habit that quickly taught us how to recognize poison ivy and to watch for sharp clams underfoot when wading into the lake.

The highlight of most days was swim period. My siblings and I made the long walk from our cabins down to the bay so many times that, for years, I knew every pebble and root along the winding path.

In the evenings, the kids would pour out of the dining hall after dinner to play in the soccer field or smack around a tetherball. At dusk, we would gather on the hilltop at the centre of camp to watch the sun sink into the water, perfectly framed by birch trees.

After dark, in my early years at camp there was no greater treat than to postpone bedtime by huddling around a bonfire with other families to roast marshmallows for s’mores.

Once I became a teenager and started going to NeeKauNis alone, at night my cabin-mates and I would work up the courage to sneak across camp to the girls’ section, a thrilling adventure that was impossible back home in the city.

Sometimes all the activity overwhelmed me. One day when I was about four, my family was down at the beach when my parents realized they hadn’t seen me for a while. After a few minutes of searching they found me, dead asleep atop the toilet in an outhouse, my shorts around my knees. They woke me up, but not before taking a photo that has since become the stuff of family legend.

The opportunity to make lasting memories is why the Toronto Star’s Fresh Air Fund is so important. The fund has been sending kids to summer camp for more than 120 years. Thanks to the generosity of Star readers, the fund provides annual support to more than 100 day and overnight camps to give more than 25,000 disadvantaged and special-needs kids the chance to spend time in nature. You can take part in this great tradition of giving kids the experience of summer camp by donating to the Fresh Air Fund.

With your gift, the Fresh Air Fund can help send underprivileged and special-needs children to camp. These children will have the chance to take part in a camp experience they will cherish for a lifetime.

By cheque: Mail to The Toronto Star Fresh Air Fund, One Yonge St., Toronto, ON M5E 1E6

By Visa, MasterCard or AMEX: Call 416-869-4847

Online: For instant donations, use our secure form at thestar.com/freshairfund

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