We approached our second year of camp with allot more confidence then the first year. The camp had grown to 15 campers and 10 counselors, and Pete and Virginia were back. I was very excited because I had convinced Virginia and Pete to let me be Bobby's counselor. My younger brother Jay was going to be Peter's counselor and be in my cabin. I was really looking forward to the week. It promised to be lots of fun.

Because of the growth of the camp we now were using the 3 smaller cabins. Because I was to have Bobby, I was in Lick Run, the biggest of the smaller cabins. It was the most wheelchair accessible. Also in this cabin was my brother Jay, his camper Peter, another new counselor Doug and Matt S. Doug was a perfect match for Matt S. because he sang and played the guitar, and Matt S. loved music.

I straightened up the cabin before the parents arrived. In order to avoid any bad impression I put the horror book that Jay was reading in his suitcase. I later returned to the cabin to find Jay laughing. He informed me that Peter, who rode along up a day early, had thrown his book in the lake (actually it was a creek). Peter and Jay had returned to the cabin when Jay noticed that his book was missing. He thought Peter was a likely suspect and asked him where his book was. Peter replied, in his broken English, "I throw book in lake." Despite Jay's pleads and threats, Peter stood by his story. When I reached in Jay's suitcase and showed him the book Peter started laughing hysterically. Peter summed it up when he said, "That was good one." Peter still looks back on this trick with pride.

Many times we wondered whether Jay or Peter was in charge. Peter was constantly telling Jay that he was Robocop and he was under arrest or repeating his favorite phrase "I'm the boss around here!" Jay couldn't turn his head without risking Peter taking off. He never went far he just enjoyed the chase.

As we were waiting on campers to arrive, we received a phone call from Bobby's mother. Bobby's shunt, which drains fluid away from his brain into his stomach, became infected and had to be replaced. Bobby was in the hospital now and would not be attending camp. Besides being worried about Bobby's health, I was also very disappointed.

We had received a last minute camper and decided to accept him without our traditional pre-camp visit. All we knew about him was his name, J.J., that he was 15 and blind. Stacy was to be his counselor and had gone to the library and obtained books on Braille and dealing with blind people.

When J.J. arrived, we were really surprised. He was chronologically 15, physically 6 and mentally 3. Because I was now camperless. We shifted a doubled up female camper to Stacy and I took J.J.

For the first couple hours he didn't say anything. I let him feel around our cabin and then led him to and from the main lodge a few times. I didn't feel J.J. recognized my voice or cared if I was there. I could not get any interaction to occur between the two of us.

The walk to the dining hall was about 3/4 of a mile. We had a bus that we used to transport campers who were not up for the walk. J.J did not walk long distances. If he gets tired he would just sit down. Some times I had to carry him just to get him to go the 50 yards from our cabin to the main lodge. In order to save my back, we took the bus. J.J moved to the back right hand seat and sat down contentedly. He must ride a bus to school because he certainly looked at home.

The first meal did not go well. I could not get J.J. to eat anything; all he would do was drink milk. When he wanted more milk I heard him speak for the first time, he said "More juice please." I chalked up the first meal to nerves and didn't worry about it.

The night was horrible. J.J got up at 3:00 in the morning and starting wandering around the cabin. I didn't want him to get out of the cabin or trip and hurt himself so I jumped down off my bunk and went to get him. When he felt my hand he took me to his bed and pushed me like I should sit, so I did. He then sat beside me, about 30 seconds later he grabbed my hand and pulled me up and made us switch places. This scenario repeated itself for about 3 hours. I could not get him to lie back down, I could think of no other choice then to play along.

When it got closer to a more reasonable hour of the morning I woke one of the other counselors, took a quick shower and then got J.J dressed and ready. He was sitting in the middle of the floor moving his head back and forth to a beat somewhere in his head.

I said, "Come on J.J. let's go ride the bus." I did not really expecting a response. But J.J. surprised me by quickly getting up and saying "Ride the bus, Ride the bus."

When we got to the bus, J.J. headed for the same seat in the back he sat in yesterday. Peter was there. J.J. got mad and started pushing Peter out of the way. I calmly explained to Peter that J.J. needed to sit there. After J.J. got his seat, he contentedly smiled and rocked his head back and forth repeating "Ride the Bus. Ride the Bus".

Breakfast wasn't any better than dinner the night before. Once again, all J.J. would do was drink milk. I was starting to worry. How long could someone last on just milk? How do we make him eat?

The rest of the morning went fairly well. J.J. particularly enjoyed the singing. He would sit there and rock his head to the beat. At various times during the morning, J.J. would appear to be overwhelmed by the crowd. We would have to leave and go for a walk.

By the time lunch was drawing near, J.J. must have been getting hungry. In his singsong voice he said "Oatmeal" and "Ice Cream." I quickly drove to the local store and purchased oatmeal and ice cream. For dinner J.J. ate 2 bowls of oatmeal topped off with a chocolate milkshake. With some more experimentation over the next couple days I discovered that J.J. would eat almost any food that was soft. A huge worry was gone.

After lunch we had lake time. We all put on our life vests and headed out in our boats. It didn't take long for the wild water battle to start. Jay and Peter were in a paddleboat. They were both laughing so hard, trying to get everyone else wet, that we wondered which one would fall out of their boat first. On another boat was Lesha and the nurse, Gretchen. Much to Grethchen's embarrassment, Lesha spent the whole time yelling, "Help! The witch has me!"

Don and Sandy W., a husband and wife who volunteered as counselors, also talked friends into letting their daughter, Emily, attend camp. Emily is a pretty girl and in allot of ways she reminded me of Matt S. She appeared to understand what was said to her but had trouble communicating back to you. She could talk, but not carry on a conversation. We all found out she knew Don and Sandy W., because at any time she would start repeating "Don and Sandy" over and over. If something really bothered her she would speak. She didn't like when we went to the craft room and would repeat "No crafts, No crafts." Although Emily's communication was limited, it was obvious, at times, that she understood what was going on. When things were explained to her she would do what was asked, but it was hard to tell exactly how much she understood.

I wasn't content just to baby-sit J.J., so I decided to try to get some kind of interaction going. I assembled objects with all different textures. He laid claim to a foam paintbrush and carried it around. If he ever misplaced it he would ask for it by saying, "Toys please."

When we were walking from place to place, although he couldn't see, I tried to get him to appreciate the nature around him. Often we would stop and pick up pieces of bark or rocks. He became particularly found of a cluster of three medium size trees. The trees were close enough together that he could touch one without letting go of the other. He would sometimes spend large amounts of time going between the trees feeling the bark.

That afternoon I temporarily left J.J. with another counselor. I came back in the room and said something. J.J. immediately reacted. He got off the couch, followed my voice, grabbed my hand and led me to a seat back beside him. After this incident, if I ever wanted to leave him with someone else, I had to sneak away then sneak back before he noticed.

Monday and Tuesday night we "played" musical chairs again. Just when I thought the frustration of our limited communication or the lack of sleep was getting to me, J.J. would pick me up. He would crawl onto my lap and hug me or laugh a happy contented laugh. It was the kind of pure joy that I don't think the rest of us can feel anymore. During quiet time J.J. would sing back the songs he heard during the day. He wouldn't sing with the rest of the campers, but later back in the cabin we would hear the songs he enjoyed sung back to us.

The amount of time J.J. would spend in a crowd grew. When it finally looked like he was used to the environment and could spend most of the time with the rest of the camp it was Wednesday night.

I was shocked awake Thursday morning by something I hadn't heard all week, my alarm clock. J.J. had slept the whole night! I couldn't believe it. We packed up J.J's stuff and prepared for departure. Although at times J.J. was difficult, more mentally then physically, he made me slow down a little. He uplifted me with his laughter and, as I searched for things for him to experience, taught me to appreciate my sense of touch and hearing. It was hard to tell if J.J. grew from the experience, I would like to think he did. I know I did.

next|home|prev