A century has passed since Camp John Hay came into being. In that time a patch of grazing land where a horn summoned stampeding cattle saw booted feet march to the call of a bugle.

Originally built as a haven for rest and recuperation, it had a way of healing bodies, restoring strife-ravaged psyches and boosting weary spirits of American servicemen in times of war. When peace reigned, its aura of serenity, its pine scented beauty soothed weary spirits as only a touch from Mother Nature can. Such was its lure.

For almost nine decades, Camp John Hay wore a cloak of timelessness. It evoked a similarity of experience and a sense of familiarity that was shared by all who walked beneath its pine shaded paths at any point of that period. Born in tandem with the city of Baguio, both were meant to be refuges from the oppressive heat of the lowlands. Each summer its spring-like climate was a beacon few could resist. As the city succumbed to the need to grow, the Camp remained essentially the same.

In the 1990s, Camp John Hay was at the center of a whirl of transformation. So radical was its face changed, this evolving history trail is now a window on a time gone by. It is part of a historical core that has been deemed inviolate to changes in taste and impervious to whims and politics.

Follow the trail . . . take in the sights . . . get a feel of an earlier time . . . then take a moment to let the whispering pines tell you of the story of Camp John Hay.

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