Legacy is something that I have been thinking a lot about this summer. With my dad retiring at the end of the month, the thought of legacy has been heavy on my heart. It seems to have weighed heavily on many hearts this summer as well. I have noticed Kamp families talking more about legacy. I have loved the conversations about what Kamp has meant to them and what my dad has meant to them. I have noticed that my youngest daughter has picked up “The History of Kanakuk” book that is on my coffee table multiple times this summer and has asked me questions about the stories she is reading. Legacy…
Legacy isn’t built in a single grand moment; it is built in the ordinary. Legacy is built in those small moments, in those seemingly insignificant times.
I am 4th-generation Kanakuk; my kids are 5th-generation, and my grandkids, who got to come play at K-Kauai this summer, are 6th-generation. That is quite the legacy! There were 4th-generation Kampers from Houston at K1 in Cabin one last term. There were 3rd-generation families at K-Kauai this summer. I have hosted several 2nd and 3rd-generation alumni at our get-togethers each week at the party barn. The legacy of Kanakuk has been woven into our lives as generation after generation walks through these gates year after year.
Sharing stories together has been so much sweeter this summer. Hearing stories being shared has been so much more meaningful. As I listen to K-Kauai families introduce themselves and say, “I met my husband at K2,” or “my grandfather was a Kamper when Spike was here,” or “this is our family’s 21st summer at Family Kamp,” I am filled with such happiness as I see the legacy being passed down.
My nostalgia about legacy has been spurred by my dad’s retirement, but legacy is so much more than one man and his name. Legacy is the things that matter, the feelings created, the memories shared. Yes, my dad is leaving an amazing legacy just like my great-grandmother, Pardner, did, just like my grandparents, Spike and Darnell did. There is no doubt that Joe is leaving a tremendous legacy in his wake as he retires. But the legacy is in the memories, the “dimeies” at Dairy Queen after trip, singing “I Don’t Wanna Go Home” at the top of our lungs at the Ponytail before lunch, writing chicken letters on Sunday, chocolate pudding on trip, learning to ski in the ski bug, the friendships we made as 8-year olds that have lasted for decades, remembering what it felt like to walk quietly to the Council Ring, holding the hope in your heart that your flag would fly the highest at the end of the term.
Maybe I’m confusing nostalgia with legacy, maybe I’m mixing them up in the wrong way in my mind, but they have both been washing over me so sweetly this summer; and I don’t want to untangle them. I love this place, and I am so thankful for the nostalgia that washes over me as I think about the legacy of Kanakuk in my family and in all of the families who continue to trust us with their next generation.
Jamie Jo Johnson
Alumni Engagement Director
