The News from Magruder February 12-18

This week at Magruder has been book-ended by beautiful days with a few blustery, rainy ones in between. The ocean has been at work again, taking a large portion of the driftwood still left on the beach to somewhere else. It's entertaining to imagine where these piles of wood come from. Is there a holding zone someone out in the ocean for giant stumps and planks and trunks? When the ocean takes it back, where does it go? Does it go back out to the ocean's warehouse of waterlogged wood? Does it get dropped off at some other beach wayside for a time like a nomad before moving on to the next stop?

As it took back a stock of its driftwood, the ocean also dug out layers of sand, creating stair steps down to the beach proper from woods behind. In spots, these carvings are indeed regular step size, but if you walk farther, they become 10 foot walls, towering above your head, creating shadows on you from the morning sun. Living near the ocean like this, it is frequently evident that the Earth is always in a state of change. It's not just something that happens over centuries or millennia. It is happening minute by minute, second by second. Go out in the morning and see one thing. Go out in the afternoon and it is transformed.

This week we have been doing lots of interviews at camp. We are preparing to hire several new kitchen staff and we're also looking to name our Summer Program Intern. For the ones doing the hiring, it is both nerve-raking and exciting. We take responsibilities like this very seriously, because we know that the people here have a huge impact on what this camp becomes. There are so many factors to consider when filling these positions: skill, commitment to the mission, maturity, the fit with the current staff, the ability to challenge us and help us grow. There are often many who would do great in so many of these areas. People care about this work. We care about these people.

In thinking about interviews, it has been helpful in many areas to think about how we are shaping this place by who we hire and how we fit people into roles. We are creating a culture, we are building up something that all our guests will see. We hope it teaches them something, inspires them, makes them want something like this for themselves.

I think of all the people who have passed through the gates at Magruder. I've gone back and read the stories of Jesse Bunch and Frank Magruder pushing the conference to buy this undeveloped land remotely located on the Oregon Coast. I've heard the stories of people who started the programs still going at our camp. Many have come and gone, come back and gone again.

I think of a story I heard about Dr. Magruder bringing a group of teenagers to the site that would soon bear his name. The professor was an academic and not greatly known for his outdoor skills, but he wanted to take these young people for an outdoor experience. They set up tents on the site, but no one there was an expert. During the weekend, they got a taste of Oregon Coast wind and rain, spending most of the time soaked. Dr. Magruder returned with the recommendation that they build cabins at the camp.

I imagine the place during their first visit. I imagine what it looked like as the first Shorehouse and Carrier lodge went up. I think about how the trees sprang up among the shore grasses. I think about how storms have dropped some of those trees. It is constantly growing, evolving, transforming. In the same way, people are shaping the legacy of the place, creating memories, attaching meaning to the buildings and the natural landmarks. Even that is changing minute by minute. We are continuously blown away by the passion people show in wanting to be here and do the work. I wonder how the outcomes of these interviews will shape the sands of our camp. We take that seriously and prayerfully as we deliberate.

In the middle of the week, the winds got strong and tossed the tops of the shore pines around. You could hear the roar through the night. The next day a few trees were down, but nothing significant. It would be drizzly for the next stretch of time, but on Friday morning a soft marine layer floated in, softening the sun. Everything looked like it had a fade filter on it--the mountains, the tree canopies, the lake and the ocean. A small layer of clouds came in, but sunlight managed to peek through here and there. As we ran errands from cabin to cabin, preparing for Choir Camp, we talked about how beautiful a day it was to be outside. I thought about the spring and summer to come, about the feelings it brings to walk the road from the office to Carrier, seeing people criss-crossing the paths, talking, singing, smelling the spruces overhead. They will come in and go out again. Constant changing, constant growth in ways new and ancient.