Celebrating Peter

ECCC News

Jul 1

In April, several of us from the ECCC community attended the memorial service for Peter Bergstrom at Camp Stevens. Peter was the Executive Director of Camp Stevens for 40 years, a founding member of ECCC, and ECCC’s Executive Director for 9 years, before his retirement in 2014. It felt important to celebrate his legacy and share our love and appreciation with Peter’s wife and partner, Vicki, and the Camp Stevens community.

Here is a slideshow from the event, and a reflection from Ashley Graham-Wilcox, ECCC’s Director of Communications and Events, from the Camp Stevens newsletter.

Celebrating the Life of Peter Bergstrom
by Ashley Graham-Wilcox

Peter Bergstrom’s Celebration of Life didn’t begin with the ceremony. It began with travels from near and far, a friendly shuttle ride from Laban or Noah, and chairs borrowed from throughout the Julian community. It began with parking lot reunions, morning runs up Volcan, a carefully-designed program booklet, and a brand new sound system.

And then, at 3pm on April 15, with no rain in sight (I have no doubt that Peter’s friend, Fr. Art Bartlett, famous for leading snow dances to coax in a winter wonderland at Thanksgiving Family Camp, had a hand from beyond in the day’s blue sky.), music, a reading from John Muir, and Peter’s son Erik officially began the celebration.

What followed were loving reflections on the pillars of Peter’s life. We heard about Peter’s childhood from his siblings, Kip and Robin, and early signs of Peter’s skills of influence. We heard from friends, colleagues, and soul siblings about travels, projects, and life with Peter. Even with, say, a squirming 5-year old on your lap, it was impossible to not be moved by the depth and breadth of Peter’s reach and relationships. Peter’s daughter, Jenne, shared her “prospection,” inviting us to channel some Peter into our everyday lives with #wwpeterdo and reminded us – as her dad no doubt would have – to put Camp Stevens in our wills. And then we passed the peace, ending the ceremony as so many Camp Stevens programs have over the years, with hugs, exclamations, and well wishes.

Any celebration of Peter couldn’t end with a ceremony, either. We hiked to Upper Meadow, we ate a lovingly put-together meal, we sang, and we danced – and then we danced again. We raised a glass with lifelong – and brand new – friends. We cried and laughed, reminisced and reflected, teased and rehashed.

Some of the 500 in attendance hadn’t been to Camp Stevens in ten or twenty years. Most of us were called to be there that day because something in us was shaped and defined by our experience at Camp Stevens – a relationship, a passion, a career – and tethered to Peter Bergstrom. This was an opportunity to honor and celebrate a person who did so much with his life, including building a space that has changed thousands of lives, and, in doing so, celebrate what that space is now: The food is great, the internet isn’t, and the walk to Phoenix Hill (née Girls Hill) is still the hardest hike at camp. Trees have been lost to bark beetle and fire, the new buildings are beautiful, and there’s signage inviting us to acknowledge the original indigenous inhabitants of the land where camp sits. You can still hear music and laughter over the whirr of dishes being washed in the Hobart.

Peter would have taken great joy and pride in his community recognizing that we can celebrate camp today while happily reminiscing on the camp of our memories.

There’s a lesson on “Going Home Styles” taught at the end of Counselor Training: How to return to “real life” after an intense, formative time, giving honor to the experience, without driving everyone else totally insane. I know about reflection and closure. Yet I knew that when I left camp following Peter’s celebration, he would still be gone. That the weekend’s To Do list would have been completed, the anxiety of seeing so many old friends passed, and a Peter-free world to face.

And so, despite the many times I’ve sat through (and taught!) that lesson, I made another stylistic choice: I didn’t go home. Instead, I sat on the Dining Hall lawn, drinking coffee with the other lingerers, and saying goodbye as one-by-one they left for San Diego or San Francisco, Norway or Niwot. I drank more coffee, and leaned against the patio wall that seems like it’s always been there, soaking in its warmth, listening to the staff who had worked so long and hard sing at the conclusion of a successful weekend.

I celebrated the history and the present of a place that’s meant so much to my family and I, and the graciousness of the family who shared Peter with so many of us.

Peter wasn’t perfect, and we didn’t gather to sanctify him. We gathered to celebrate the life he created with Vicki and the world that he envisioned and worked toward. And work it was.

Peter Bergstrom believed in the power of clean air and open space, and the beauty of bringing people together, through experiences, food, and music. Through his words and actions, he taught me that the way we treat one another and this earth matters, that there’s always something to learn, and that meaningful work can intertwine with the rest of your life, so you don’t have to practice “going home.” When I did finally drive down that driveway the next day, I did so with a new lightness, rooted in confidence in what Peter helped to create at Camp Stevens and shape in me (Note to self: Write will.). It’s hard work.

So, let’s get to it.