First published in This Land's December 1, 2014 issue under the headline Icee Dates, Evangelical Games, and Missional Positions, this story from Jamie Birdwell-Branson recounts how the camp launched the career of Oklahoma's now-senior senator James Lankford, as well as its colloquial reputation as Oklahoma's "Baptist Breeding Ground."
I remember the crying. Girls with mascara smeared across their faces, racing down the aisles of the tabernacle toward the preacher. Some went in pairs, clutching each other and whispering. The boys typically walked alone, proud and sure of themselves as they went down to inform a Falls Creek counselor of their decisions, whether it be to accept Jesus Christ as their Lord and savior, or to answer a call to missions. Or perhaps they felt like they had fallen off the bandwagon and taken up smoking or drinking, and they wanted to publicly declare that they were going to live their lives for Jesus once again. Campers and youth ministers applauded their decisions.
There I stood, 14 years old, watching hundreds of my peers have life-changing religious experiences, but all I could do was wonder why my eyes were completely dry and why God wasn’t speaking to me. If God was going to talk to anyone, it should have been me. I was the Baptist golden child: My grandfather on my father’s side is a Baptist minister and my late grandfather on my mother’s side was a Baptist music minister, who often sang at church revivals, with my grandmother accompanying him at the piano. My parents were raised in the church, going every time the doors were open and often staying after everyone else had left. My parents made it a priority to do the same when they started their own family. Summer camp at the Falls Creek Baptist Conference Center was a family tradition.
If you ask someone in Oklahoma to tell you about their time at Falls Creek, you’ll get a variety of responses. They might tell you to about how they got saved at an altar call, how they got stung by a bee in evening tabernacle, or how they heard someone at their high school getting pregnant at the camp. Or how, like me, they felt more alienated and confused than euphoric. Whether Falls Creek was an annual event, a friend dragged you there, or you just knew someone who attended, most Oklahomans have heard of and have an opinion about the place affectionately referred to as “The Creek.”
Though Falls Creek is famous inside the state of Oklahoma, until recently it was doubtful that anyone outside the state knew of it. This all changed in 2009, when James Lankford, Falls Creek camp director, decided to run for Mary Fallin’s open seat in the U.S. House of Representatives after she announced she was running for governor. He took a chance by quitting his position at Falls Creek, one he’d held for 13 years, to run his campaign. Lankford had no prior political experience and was not from a political dynasty. He has said repeatedly in interviews that he took the chance to run simply because he felt called by God.
After a runoff in the primaries, Lankford was elected to run against Democrat Billy Coyle in 2010. Lankford, a political outsider, easily won with 62 percent of the votes for the 5th District. The victory put Falls Creek on the political radar.
Saved at Summer Camp
Unless you’re looking for it, you’ll drive right past Falls Creek. Amidst the Arbuckle Mountains and the thicket of trees that pepper the side of I-35 near Davis, Oklahoma, are acres of land that house the largest Christian youth encampment in the country.