Preacher’s Legacy Enriches Lives Of Hampy Campers

The late Rev. C.E. Hamp was a giant of biblical proportions.

His imposing 6-foot-3, 310-pound bulk is only part of the legend. The founder of Hamp’s Camp for impoverished inner-city Spokane kids possessed a stern, Old Testament countenance that could turn a backslider into a pillar saltier than Lot’s wife.

“I kind of picture him as Moses, coming down with the Ten Commandments, saying, ‘Listen up, dudes!”’ says J.J. Jones, 43.

He can testify mightily to the dangers of disturbing the Rev. Hamp’s hair-trigger sense of right and wrong.

Jones was at the first Hamp’s Camp in 1962. He missed only one season in its 35-year run. The current edition of Hamp’s Camp started Friday and continues this week at Liberty Lake with 100 low-income kids. Attending the camp costs $150, but families of needy campers pay only what they can afford.

One summer night in 1967, a brash 13-year-old Jones dared to raid the girls’ cabin. The high-spirited youth and two of his cohorts created such giggling chaos that they failed to notice the pastor’s looming presence. Hamp’s enormous body suddenly “filled the doorway,” recalls Jones.

Though the hour was late, Hamp was immaculately attired in his dark preacher’s suit. He always dressed formally in suit and tie, even when piloting the camp speed boat up and down the lake.

Jones’ two pals were skinny and quick enough to slip by Hamp. Jones, a stockier lad, dove for salvation between the minister’s legs.

Hamp clamped his legs together, pinning Jones like a squirming June bug. The boy was stuck in this highly embarrassing position when the reverend cupped a huge paw and bent to deliver a fire-and-brimstone sermon on the seat of the sinner’s pants.

“He whupped me bad,” recalls Jones, shaking his head. “I felt the hand of the Lord.”

The Lord sure enough works in mysterious ways.

After years as Hamp’s understudy, the Rev. J.J. Jones has taken his mentor’s place behind the pulpit at the Full Gospel Mission, at First and Magnolia.

The Rev. Hamp, 81, died May 5. His considerable presence, however, lives on at his church and especially at his famed camp.

Hamp’s son James, the new Hamp’s Camp director, greeted campers Friday. In a bittersweet moment, he placed a photograph of his dad on a windowsill inside the Zephyr Conference Grounds chapel.

“I’m gonna put him up here so he can keep an eye on you,” says James, a U.S. Army staff sergeant who is taking vacation time to run the camp. “Because he is the cause for all of you young people being here.”

Hamp’s Camp is a true blessing.

For many of these kids it is their first experience swimming, boating and playing in the woods.

These are not affluent kids from the South Hill. Some of these tykes got off the bus at the campgrounds and hauled their belongings to the lodge in black plastic trash bags.

“What if there’s a bear?” asks a concerned camper during the orientation meeting.

“Naw, there aren’t any bears,” answers James, his eyes twinkling. “But if you see one, I want you to do this. Turn around. And RUUUUUN!”

James, a burly, good-humored man, seems perfect for his role as camp director. After being gone 15 years, he asked to be reassigned to Spokane two years ago so he could help his father with the camp.

The shame is that Hamp’s Camp is nearly always a financial struggle. This year the Full Gospel Mission’s camp budget is in the red $13,200.

“Some years Rev. Hamp went into his own pocket,” says Jones, who grew up within view of Full Gospel church and became one of the Hamp family. “Heck, there were times when he was training me and he went into my pocket.”

Laughter boils up in Jones until he squints back tears.

“When James came,” he adds, “I used that training and went into his pocket.”

Donations can be mailed to Hamp’s Camp, P.O. Box 4041, Spokane, WA 99202.

, DataTimes ILLUSTRATION: 2 Photos (1 Color)