By Stan Meenach

Just about the most important piece of property connected with any local Boy Scout Council is the Scout Camp, for herein is contained the heart of Scouting. Yet, because of shifting personnel, often-inadequate records, and just plain carelessness, the intensely interesting human story of how the Scout Camp came into being, is often lost and its origin obscured. A Scout Camp invariably means that a great many people spent a lot of time, and dreaming, in order that it might become a reality.

The story of Camp Louis Ernst is especially interesting, and for want of a better title, this story is the “Story of a Scout Camp”.

The Hoosier Hills Council was organized early in 1928, and one of the first needs of the fledgling Council was a spot that could be used for an organized summer camp. Weak in financial structure, the new Council needed to arouse public interest in order to put over what was then regarded as something that people had gotten along without for all these years, and could conceivably get along without for the future. The communities of the new Council, located in southeastern Indiana, were hoary with history and rich cultural background, and new ideas must be solid and fundamental to amount to anything at all.

A Committee was formed by the Executive Board of the Council to not only find ways and means of financing a camp, but to locate and proceed with necessary measures to acquire one. The Scout Executive, (Willis A. Dorsett of Hagerstown), was new to scouting, as were all of the men, and no one knew too much about how to proceed. But, there was faith, and hope, and enthusiasm, and with that as a foundation, the Committee, headed by Dean L. Miller, the President of the local Council, started the wheels rolling.

After looking at tracts and likely spots over the area, (and now everyone knew a spot that was “just right for a Scout Camp”), a one hundred and sixty acre tract in Lancaster Township of Jefferson County was tentatively selected as the spot. The owner of the tract, Vardiman Graham, consented to let the Scouts use the tract for that first summer, with the understanding that it might be purchased later. Mr. Graham, a fine old gentleman, asked for no guarantee, or rental, for the use of the land, though the committee later took a 30-day option on the site.

Through the personal interest of Mr. Miller, and a friend and neighbor of his, Mr. Louis A. Ernst Jr., (the brother of Mr. Ernst), Mr. Fritz B. Ernst of Chicago, became interested in establishing a camp as a memorial to his father, the late Louis Ernst of Madison. After meeting with the Committee, and having Scouting explained to him, Mr. Fritz Ernst not only agreed to purchase the tract of one hundred sixty acres, but to contribute toward the construction of a dam to form a lake on the property. The cost price of the one hundred sixty acre at that time was $1600 or ten dollars per acre, and Mr. Ernst contributed $5,600 toward the dam.

Quoting from the minutes of the Executive Board meeting for Sept. 11, 1920, this is what was said about the first camp season. “President Miller called upon Mr. Dorsett, Scout Executive, to tell the Board about the first camp that had been conducted. Mr. Dorsett explained that it was a very rough camp with little equipment, but that there was a real camping spirit throughout the two weekly periods.”

The report did not tell all. It didn’t tell of how all the meals were prepared over a rock furnace out in the open. It didn’t tell of the one-mile hike to Big Creek for water and so forth, and how by the time the scouts returned to camp they needed a bath, and there was no water. It didn’t tell how all the drinking and cooking and washing water had to be hauled from neighboring farms or from town. It didn’t tell of the day when a cloudburst filled the little creek and cut off the campers from their supplies. Or how the evening meal that night was made from apples that were thrown across the creek one by one. It didn’t tell of the good feeling the boys had from meeting natures obstacles and coming out on top. It was a good camp, for the writers information came from two Scouts who were there.

Quoting again from the minutes, “Mr. Lasher asked about the development of the camp, and was answered by Mr. Miller. He stated that Mr. Fritz B. Ernst of Chicago, a former Madisonian, had bought the 160-acre tract and had deeded it in trust to the Hoosier Hills Council, and that Mr. Ernst had also agreed to finance the construction of a dam up to $5,600.00. He also announced that the firm of W.H. Miller & Sons of Madison, of which he is a member, had agreed to build a lodge on the campground. Three sleeping cabins have been built at a cost of $100.00 each, each containing eight bunks. One of them was donated by the Lions Club of Seymour. A driven well was put down as a gift of Mr. John McGregor of Madison, and a graveled road had been built.”

Mr. Miller went on to explain, according to the minutes, that the lodge would be 40’ by 90’ and that trees felled to clear for the lake are to be used on the Lodge. A floor of oak was proposed with a large stone fireplace, and the roof was to be of clapboards. Mr. Dorsett announced that a number of books and a large wall clock have been given to camp by Mrs. Hobbs of Wirt. (The lodge was later built and is a wonderful building.)

Again, the report does not tell all. The dam was built, sure enough, and it stands today as a sturdy monument to the integrity of the builders. But the report does not tell how Mr. Miller neglected his own business to supervise the construction of the dam and other buildings. It does not tell how Mr. Miller, through his company, induced the Louisville Cement Company to contribute a carload of cement to help build the dam. The dam, incidentally, is a permanent structure, built of reinforced concrete, 220 feet long and 20 feet high at the center, 18 feet thick at the base. It is keyed into the solid rock. It is 3 ½ feet thick at the top and has abutments 16 feet apart over which a footbridge is built. The report does not tell of the heartaches and problems that accompanied its building. The writer, a Scoutmaster at the time, well remembers a memorable night, when he and a dozen boys sat atop the incomplete dam and sang for hours in an unofficial dedication.

A graveled road has been built, say the records, but the records do not reveal how and by whom the road was built. It so happened that the state highway passing in front of the camp was being rebuilt of concrete, and the contractor was in need of an unfailing source of supply for large quantities of water. The only water available without a long haul was the Scout Camp. So the contractor secured permission to pump from the newly forming lake, and in return he graded and graveled the road into camp.

Later, the cabins were built by donations from the Madison Kiwanis Club, citizens of Batesville, citizens of Aurora, and one cabin was donated by Miss Louella Ernst, sister of the donor of camp.

Dedication of the new camp was set for May 18, 1930. The minutes of the Executive Board, strangely enough, do not tell of the dedication, but it was a successful affair. Judge Curtis Marshall of the Jefferson County Circuit Court who handled the legal work for the Council, made the dedicatory address. The camp was officially named Camp Louis Ernst, as a memorial to the father of the donor. The first official swim was taken in the new lake, and two scouts, Billy Miller of Madison, and J.C. Browning of Browstown took the first plunge. The lake was officially named “Miller Lake” in recognition of the services of Dean L. Miller.

The trust deed to camp was read at the time of dedication, and again strangely enough, the deed has not been located or seen since that day, though it is filed and recorded at the county courthouse.

A dining hall was urgently needed, and though no funds were available at that time, W.H. Miller & Sons again came to the rescue and built the dining hall, to be paid for when the council could raise the money. (That day was long deferred, and the dining hall was finally paid for fourteen years later.) A total of $1578.20 was spent for materials and $505.15 paid for labor to construct the dining hall. Hauling of materials was donated by the Miller Company, as well as all profit of materials.

This was but a start on a camp that was ultimately, (1964, that is), to represent over $50,000.00 which was to be made available by hundreds of different people. In later years, a winter camping cabin was erected, paid for by an anonymous contributor, and an up-to-date swimming and boating pier was established on the shores of Miller Lake. Boats for the lake were given by Troops and business firms in the area.

Mr. Dorsett resigned as Scout Executive in 1933 and on May 14, 1934, S. P. Meenach became Scout Executive.

A caretaker’s residence was projected, and though te original planning was for a modest home for a caretaker, it was later decided that the council wanted their Scout Executive to live there, and an up-to-date six-room house was erected in 1937. This was built through the generosity of Fritz B. Ernst, and through the cooperation again of the W.H. Miller & Sons Company. The residence was equipped with a stoker-fired furnace, hardwood floors, and is built of stone with a slate roof. In 1944, a new wing was added to the house, making an eight-room house with two bathrooms, and with the addition of forced air heating.

A former Madisonian, the celebrated movie actress, Miss Irene Dunne, made funds available for a beautiful stone gateway to the camp, and citizens of the area paid for modernizing the camp kitchen, putting in a water system, building washhouses and showers, and drilling three additional wells.

The water system was a story in itself. Faced with installing a water purification system, and with no money, member of the Camp Committee headed by R.V. Achatz of Lawrenceburg, drew plans for a homemade water purification system. Men donated time and materials and installed the crude, but effective system, which is still in working order. Filters and settling tanks were made of barrels donated by a distillery, and the whole system was put into operation at a cost of less than $30.00. State sanitation engineers who vetoed the whole proposition, came down to admire and examine the finished job. The clear water tank was improvised from an old stave dying tank from a long defunct cooperage shop. The elevated tank was a vat from a former brewery in Lawrenceburg. Thus salvage materials were put to work.

A fine outdoor amphitheatre was built at camp by Mr. & Mrs. Ralph Knoebel of Madison in memory of their former Scout son, Ralph Jr., who lost his life over France as a pilot in the United States Air Force. This fine memorial is used several times weekly for church services, outdoor movies, and Courts of Honor.

A boathouse was built on the shores of the lake as a memorial to all of the former Scouts of the Council who lost their lives in World War II, and gifts to this memorial came from Scouts and Troops all over the area.

A hospital was built in an accessible location, in memory of Joe and Will Ernst, brothers of the original donor of camp, who provided funds for this building.

This does not enumerate or tell of the thousands of little gifts, of boats, of dishes, of furniture, of books, of trees, of hours and hours of labor that came to camp from thousands of people. It does not tell of the work done by thousands of Scouts and the way they left their mark on camp.

The Council Ring, located back in the woods in a natural amphitheatre setting, is the only spot in camp that has been used continuously since the camp began. There are several traditions connected with it. One is that as Scouts go over the trail to the Council Ring, there is no talking and no lights are used. Another is that the silence continues until the fire is lighted, usually by an honor camper, and the flames leap about the piled logs. Then, each person crouches with hands extended and, as he rises, each person says, “in memory of Louis Ernst.” A charred piece of wood is saved from each fire and it goes into the next fire. The last campfire of the year has a charred piece of wood saved for the first fire in the next year. Thus, the symbolism of a continuing fire is maintained and has been maintained since that first campfire twenty years ago. This is brought to attention of new campers every year.

A camp, properly, becomes a place of nostalgic memory to hundreds and thousands of people. It is, in a way, a community center. It has its own traditions and its own secret histories to different people. Who owns a Scout Camp? The Council holds the deed in trust, but that is not true ownership. The camp is owned by the people of the area, by the boys who camped there, by those who will camp there, by the birds and the wild life that use it.

A camp is more than a piece of property – it is an experience. It is more than that – it is a dream fulfilled. All through the thread of this brief account, you find names re-occurring. Probably there were five men who made Camp Louis Ernst what it is, more than anyone else. They are Dean L. Miller, the first Council President, Louis A. Ernst, my own beloved friend now gone to his reward, his brother Fritz B. Ernst who gave so much in money and belief in Scouting, R.V Achatz who guided and directed so many of the policies of camp and who planned always far ahead, modestly, myself who had the high privilege of being Scout Executive of the Hoosier Hills Council for thirteen years.

There were temptations. A group of men once offered to pay $500.00 each year to help keep up the camp, but they stipulated that they should have the sole fishing rights on the lake at camp. There were twenty of them and that would have been $10,000.00 per year. They were turned down at a time when money was very scarce for camp improvement, but the right thing was done. The Council was approached with the proposition that they were entitled to payment from the Government for not planting wheat, but again, temptation was resisted. The camp could have been leased to the township to get W.P.A. help, but that is not the Scouting way. Everyone connected with the camp can hold their head high, for they kept the faith, and there was nothing to be ashamed of.

A young Navy officer, on duty in the North Atlantic in the moonlight in great danger from U-boats, writes, “The thing that sustains me is that out of this comes the assurance that my boy, and his boy, will have the right and privilege that I enjoyed of being at Scout Camp in his boyhood days. My thoughts turn to the old camp tonight, and I yearn for those happy days again. When I return, if I return, I’ll pin my faith and strength to Scouting.” He had been a camper and Staff member for years. Another, descending into machine gun fire, as he parachutes from a plane above Corregidor, writes, “Call it what you will, but as I came down in the midst of death, I thought of the good old days at camp.”

One leader in 1943 at the last campfire of the season, said, “no one knows what this camp has meant to me, and I’ll be back to sit around this fire again.” And, after camp had closed, this lad joined the United States Marine Corps, and before summer had come back, he had died in the assault on a Pacific Island. Did he come back to sit around that fire?

Around that fire are the shadows of hundreds of boys whose lives have been influenced by the fellowship, and the romantic adventure, the spiritual values of a week in camp. No one knows what a camp brings to a boy – no one knows the impact on his soul and his character. One man gave dollars – another time – another dreams, but all of them have helped to make men out of boys.

It cannot be set upon paper and no one can say, “This is the way it was.”

I only say, “This is the way I knew it to be.”

Stanley Meenach

Circa Nov. 1946