BATON ROUGE – On July 20, 1969, fearless astronaut Neil Armstrong became the first man to walk on the moon.
He declared, “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.”
Earlier that same day, fearful and shy 12-year-old Ron Higgins landed in a small dining hall full of buzzing boys for an event that would change his life.
“Welcome to Lakeside Oaks Basketball Camp and Country Club,” said a bespectacled authority figure who oozed infectious enthusiasm. “My name is Joe Dean and I’m the camp director.”
Yes, THAT Joe Dean. Former LSU All-SEC guard in the 1950s who eventually became a Converse shoe company vice president who signed stars such as Julius Erving, Larry Bird, Magic Johnson, Chris Evert and Jimmy Connors to endorsement deals.
And also, an SEC basketball television analyst whose catchphrase “String Music!” has never gotten old.
And eventually, the longest-tenured LSU athletic director in history who dearly loved his alma mater.
On Sunday, the third-generation Lakeside Oaks, which morphed into Dixie Basketball Camp and now into String Music Basketball Camp will open business for its 58th year, the 50th year at Southwest Mississippi Community College in Summit, Miss.
The community college has dorms with air conditioning, several gymnasiums and a spacious cafeteria. It’s a far cry from the original Lakeside Oaks, a renovated fishing camp with two outside concrete basketball courts, ping pong tables (a sheet of plywood placed on top of two sawhorses), and a bunkhouse cooled only by huge fans.
Scott Dean, grandson of the late Joe Sr. and son of former camp director Joe Jr., is the camp director. Mardi Dean, daughter of Joe Sr., handles the camp’s accounting and room assignments.
The camp’s daily schedule has hardly changed since its origin. Basketball fundamentals are taught in the morning ending with a free throw contest, an early afternoon daily camp assembly for announcements and camper comedy skits followed by 3 on 3 games and 5 on 5 games at night after supper.
It isn’t, wasn’t, and will never be a high-pressure camp where college coaches hang out recruiting talent.
The camp has stayed true to its roots. It’s a place where you learn or improve your game, but it’s so much more than that.
“What we find is that young men are begging for someone to tell them what to do,” Big Joe once said decades ago. “There’s a lot of basketball mixed in with fellowship and discipline cleaning their dorm room and making their beds daily.
“For one week, we tell them what to do and they respond magnificently. We’ve created leadership, teamwork, friendships and loyalty. We teach hard work and reaching goals in whatever you do.”
It’s why the annual retention rate of returning campers is probably over 90 percent.
“It’s amazing the loyalty and the following that camp has created,” said former LSU head basketball coach John Brady, who reports for duty again this weekend as a camp counselor for the two one-week sessions. “It’s a testament to what Mr. Dean created. Last year, we had 12 to 14 kids whose grandfathers had been in the camp when they were kids.”
The amount of coaching talent who have been camp counselors is staggering such as eventual Final Four head coaches Brady, Richard Williams and Mike Davis, Final Four players Larry Conley and Kyle Macy and high school state championship coaches from across the South.
The camp has produced its share of campers who became celebrities, like Pro Football Hall of Fame quarterback Peyton Manning and NBA players such as Calvin Natt and Garrett Temple.
But more often than not, most campers are preteen and teenage kids trying to find themselves and needing confidence.
It was an unspoken mission of Joe Sr. to make every camper feel special, regardless of their level of basketball skill. He always felt every kid had a talent – even if it wasn’t sports – that could be nurtured through encouragement and humorous motivation.
Joe Sr. taught the shooting station. He emphasized using “the banking board” whenever possible. He’d tell us, “Fellas, there’s three sure things in life. . .death, taxes and Joe Dean from 15 feet.”
Big Joe’s weekly camp-opening orientation meeting was spellbindingly funny, covering everything from bathroom habits (“The toilet paper goes in toilet. . .if you can’t hit the toilet from two feet maybe you shouldn’t be in basketball camp,” he said) to keeping a trash-free campground (“When you finish a drink, grip the can, walk to a trash can, extend your arm and release all five fingers. . .the can should fall in the garbage. . .if doesn’t come see me and I will do something about it,” he said).
He knew how to make a point.
One day after many campers were grousing about how they couldn’t make shots because of the tight rims, Big Joe had heard enough.
He summoned Joe Jr. to bring him a ladder, then told the entire camp they needed to sit on the concrete basketball courts that had spent most of the day cooking under the 100-degree Louisiana summer sun.
As we sat there while our rear ends were sautéed, he climbed the ladder and soon was at eye level with the rim. He asked Joe Jr. to hand him two basketballs.
“I’ve heard bitching all day that none of you can make shots on these goals,” Big Joe said. “You’ve told me `Mr. Dean, the rims are too tight. I can’t make a shot.’”
Suddenly, Big Joe took the two balls, dropped them through the basket side-by-side, and paused for dramatic effect before hammering home his message.
“And all YOU have to MAKE is ONE,” he said before climbing off the ladder and walking briskly away.
Man, I’d give anything to be 12 years old again, laughing and squirming on a concrete court hot as lava and dreaming about where life’s roads will take me.
Contact Ron at ronhigginsmedia@gmail.com