Back in 1995 I tried to find the summer camp where "it" happened (35 years earlier) or at least to find some information about the place. I was hoping to give some reality to what happened, since all I had was a hazy story.
There were no newspaper articles, no mention of the farm on old or new maps, and no extant sign of the place. The state and local police, the county government, and the county librarian had never heard of it and had no records or information. I even paid a private detective to look for clues. Nothing.
All I found was a dirt road that we had used to get to and from the swimming hole, and a water-filled quarry owned by a (locally influential) family with the same name as the camp operators. Thus, all I know about the place is what I and my sister remember.
Since then, in the absence of any physical evidence about the camp or what happened, I've struggled not to let my imagination go wild and cook up too many dubious details. It's bad enough to remember the few fragments.