I’m not making any of this up…
True Stories from a Church Day Camp
Me, 2 staff members, and 35 grade school kids…
In the late spring of ’80, I was in between college and grad school. I had 2 jobs:
- Sales clerk at “Athletic Attic” in the Orlando Fashion Square Mall.
- Crisis phone counselor at “We Care” a suicide prevention center.
My friends liked to joke that I worked at “Who Cares” and “Apathetic Attic.”
Leaving for grad school at the end of the summer, I had just begun to think about doing something else for the summer. One night I ran into Bruce Parsons, the recreation director at our church. He mentioned in conversation that he was looking for someone to run the church day camp for the summer.
I remember thinking “how hard can that be?’ before I said:
“I’m your man. Tell me about it.”
And thus began the adventure
And thus began the adventure of 2 summers. As I look back now I can’t believe I did it twice.
35 kids 2nd to 5th grade. 2 high school age assistants. And me.
I would come home exhausted, eat dinner, and nap on the couch for an hour before doing summer evening stuff.
It was as fun as it was exhausting. Here are a few stories from those 2 summers:
“Don’t worry, we’ll run him over with the bus.”
Kids love to tattle on each other. We had the tattling gold medal champion one summer. This little guy wore me out giving up all his friends.
One day at lunch he came up to me and said:
“Billy stole my peas.”
Me: (exhausted) “Don’t worry, remind me after lunch on the way to the pool and we’ll run him over with the bus.”
The kid’s mouth dropped open and his eyes got very big. He slowly backed away from me and then ran back to his table.
And never tattled again.
“35 small cokes”
There was a movie theater in town that showed free movies for kids on Tuesday morning. They made their money at the concession stand.
Each kid has to bring a quarter for their coke. We would fill up a giant bag of popcorn and bring it. Then sit in the theater with 35 kids. In a large movie theater already full of kids.
It was even worse than it sounds.
The only redeeming part of it for me was collecting all the quarters from the kids, and watching the expression of the older kid behind the counter when I plunked down all those quarters and said:
“I’d like 35 small cokes please.”
“Magnets don’t stick to my brace”
My favorite story, still, all these years later, is about a kid named Joe.
Joe was in the 4th grade, wore a back brace from hips to neck, and by this summer had already undergone a dozen surgeries to correct his spine.
And absolutely nothing stopped this kid. He didn’t just manage things. Joe attacked them with gusto. I grew to admire and even look up to him.
We created an ongoing gag between us. We created this routine for whenever he would get a little out of hand and was not responding to my requests to turn down the volume:
Me: “Joe if you don’t cut it out, I’m gonna have to get the magnet out.”
Joe: (straightening himself and standing as tall as he could) “Go ahead. Magnets don’t stick to my brace!”
Last I heard, after successful surgeries, there was no more brace, and Joe was seen as a teen, screaming down the street on his 10 speed. My guess is he’s a very successful businessman somewhere.
Every now and then, when I don’t really feel like doing something I need to do, and I need a bit of inspiration, I hear that gusto filled voice in my head say:
“Go ahead. Magnets don’t stick to my brace!”