Spring Mentoring Retreat
Beth Reddish Wright
At the end of April, fifteen of us from the Alkulana Mentoring Program packed into a van in Richmond and drove to Camp Alkulana for an overnight retreat. The retreat comes at the end of a fantastic first year of the program that Angela Peters and I started in August. The theme of the retreat was “journey” and as we journeyed together to Alkulana, my thoughts were on all of the details and planning that had gone into the retreat, and whether or not we’d missed anything. Angela and I had gone through the normal worries that morning: Will anyone show up? Do we have enough food? Did we forget any supplies? Will our activities get rained out? These worries turned out to be in vain. The weekend was a huge success. We built relationships, ate delicious food, completed two youth-planned service projects, and had a meaningful time of spiritual reflection together.
And still, one moment in particular keeps replaying in my mind. We were wrapping up the end of our spiritual reflection time on Saturday night, a time when we spent time navigating through several individual activities that led us to quietly consider our own personal spiritual journeys. One of the activities in which I chose to participate was a “Prayer Labyrinth.” In this practice, the labyrinth allows persons to simulate their journey while walking through the labyrinth and praying for specific guidance. As I walked along, I was joined by several of our young people who were also walking quietly. Whoever complains that youth don’t have the capacity or attention for such contemplative activities is selling them short. I was beyond impressed by their serious composure and silent reflection. One by one we reached the center of the labyrinth, and I found myself standing in the center with four young people. We all stood there silently, each working through journeys in our own minds. The power of standing together with these young people, in the midst of such contemplation was enough to give me chills. Without even speaking or looking at each other, we felt…connected. After several minutes of soaking up this experience, the group began to turn back to complete the labyrinth. Slowly, one of us would turn and take a step towards the path, until we were each navigating our way out.
It’s been a privilege for me to be a part of these young people’s lives as they are navigating through what can be a very challenging time in their lives. They have likely taught me more than I’ve taught them as they’ve shared their gifts of leadership and passion for service. More than anything, I think we’ve just shared a connection—that same connection I felt in the center of the labyrinth—as we walk together in this journey we call life.
We are eager to continue these meaningful experiences when our second year of the mentoring program starts up next fall!
The Flush, White Suitcases, Caps, and a Lifetime of Memories
Rev. Jackson Hall
I made my first trip to Alkulana when I was only eight years old, a little city kid from Hillside Court. I'd never really given much thought to staying outdoors or in the woods, and I never considered what it would be like to have just the basics without all the modern conveniences of the day. I'm 28 years old now, and I still visit camp regularly. As I look at how camp is evolving each year, fighting to hold onto it's traditional, rustic feel while embracing the times we live in, I appreciate change much more.
Most people that visit Alkulana today can't remember a time when there was no Flush. For those of you who haven’t been to camp in recent years, the Flush is a building containing toilets, sinks and a couple of showers, which was built in 1994. Many people who have come to camp since 1994, probably don’t remember when caps were a camper’s only option. Back when I was a camper there was no flush, caps was all campers had. And what are caps? “Caps” is short for capital—in terms of importance, so in other words, caps were literally the most importance place in camp. Simply put, caps are outhouses.
There are two types of caps at Alkulana (they’re still in use, by the way, even with the advent of the Flush). There are camper caps and counselor caps. When I was a camper the counselor caps were viewed as a throne of some sort that all campers wanted to sneak into. Once I became a counselor and achieved my right to use the counselor caps, I quickly became disillusioned. Caps, it seems, are caps, no matter how old you are.
Back in the day, bedtime presented another sort of challenge. At night each cabin took a white chamber pot (also called a white suitcase) to the cabin with them. If a camper had to answer the call of nature during the nighttime they used the white suitcase. This was because the camper caps are located on the other side of the creek from the cabins, and using the white suitcase saved you a long trip in the dark. Ideally the user would grab a flashlight to assist in this task (as most people don't have night vision) but that was not always the case.
Every morning a different camper had the chore of removing and cleaning the white suitcase from the cabin. If you were smart, on your assigned day, you'd jump right out of bed and grab the white suitcase. If you were lazy, and laid in bed a few extra minutes, all your cabin mates would get up and increase the load you'd have to bear. No matter the case, once you were up, you grabbed the white suitcase by the handle, and walked to meet Gracie (the camp director) on the bridge. She'd be waiting for you with one of the most awesome smiles you could ever see. She'd greet you by saying "good morning" while the only thing you could think of was how fast you wanted to unload the wonderful treasure you were holding and get back to your cabin.
We would then walk across the bridge to camper caps, and dump our treasure into the caps. Because camper caps have a fiberglass bottom, we would often add water to the caps in order to hold down the smell. I can even remember the magical evening program that took place one night each session, during which the entire camp would make a line from the swim hole to caps and we'd pass buckets of water to dump in caps. Sounds like fun, right?
My, how camp as changed over the years. I thank God for Lyn Hadley (former camp nurse), every time I hear the call of nature while I'm at Alkulana. Lyn worked at camp for a number of years, traveling all the way to Virginia from her home in Michigan. Lyn died in a car accident in 1991, and thought enough of camp and the campers that she left some money in her estate to go to camp. Those funds were used to build the Flush, since she always wanted the campers to have flush toilets. I guess she got the last laugh, but really, many of us have smiled over the years, thanks to her gift.
The Flood
Abby Wakeland, from 2006
Note: Abby was a first-time
camper last summer, although she has been to camp many times
with her family (her mother and uncle practically grew up at
camp).
I was so excited about going to Camp Alkulana
(Alkulana means bright eyes). I'd been looking forward to going
for about a year. On the way to Camp, I tried to teach my friend
Ashley the camp song. She isn't a fast learner. We stopped at
Ryan's for dinner. I didn't eat much because I was too excited.
I was so glad when we arrived at camp. It was
kind of late when we got to Lantern Lodge's winding driveway.
(Lantern Lodge is a house owned by camp that my family stays
in while we're at camp.) I still had to give Ashley a tour of
the house and unpack. We barely squeezed it all in.
When I woke up it was dark. I thought it was about
6:45. I stumbled to the dresser and looked at my mom's watch.
It was 7:30. I went to the window and it was pouring! I woke
up Ashley and boy was she surprised!
Later, we drove to camp. (It was still raining
UGGGGGHHH!) It was quite muddy there. As we walked into the
kitchen, we were greeted by many people, two being my grandparents
(Nanny and Pop-Pop). I ate quickly because I wanted to show
Ashley around. I took her across the bridge to the swings. We
spent a long time there.
Suddenly, a question echoed in my head, which
cabin would we be in. Ashley and I ran to find my mom. She said
we needed to find Gracie (the camp director). Gracie said we
got to choose. She told us which counselor was with each cabin.
I wanted to be with Jen in cabin one. Ashley didn't care.
Jen took us to cabin one. There were four bunk
beds. We got first pick. I picked the second bed bottom bunk.
Ashley took the third bed bottom bunk.
After about an hour the rest of the campers arrived.
We sat down to make our sandwiches. We had to say our prayer
before we ate. When we were through, we started to make lunch.
Ashley and I made peanut butter sandwiches.
After lunch we got a chance to meet the other
girls in our cabin. The rest of the girls made their bed. Ashley
and I ended up on the top bunk because two girls wanted the
bottom bunk. Jen went over some rules with us.
After about 15 minutes, we went to the swimming
hole. Michael (the second director) went over some simple rules.
He also told us if we wanted to swim in the deep part we had
to swim a quarter of the swimming hole. It was easy for me because
I do swim team. We went to our cabin to change into our clothes.
Soon enough, it was time for dinner. We ate spaghetti
and applesauce. After dinner, we had free time. Ashley and I
went to the swimming hole for a little while. Then we went to
the swings for the rest of the time. Soon the bell that meant
the end of free time rang. Ashley and I ran to our cabin to
meet our counselors. Jen told us we were having water games
for evening program. Ashley and I were in water baseball first.
About halfway through, it started thundering. Michael got everybody
out of the water. All of the counselors and campers had campfire
without the fire in the Big Lodge. (Big Lodge is a big one floor
building where most inside activities are done.) We sang all
sorts of songs. Eventually, the sad time came where Michael
told us to go to bed. Our cabin went to the restroom and then
to sleep.
I woke to the sound of Jamie (our second counselor)
telling us to wake up and do cabin chores. In about 15 minutes
we were at the flagpole. Soon we were sitting at the tables.
After breakfast, we went to the Big Lodge to find out what Adventure
Groups we were in. Adventure Groups are groups that change every
day. Luckily, Ashley and I were in the same group. First, we
had a cookout. Our group leaders were Suzanna and Junior. Suzanna
told us we were to make chili mac. When we were done, it was
good! After the cookout we had some free time. During that time,
Gracie asked us what interest group we would like to be in.
An Interest group is a few campers and a counselor that you
keep for three days, and then swap. I chose crafts. The bell
rang and we all ran to the flagpole to discuss Interest groups.
In about five minutes I was sitting under the craft tent listening
to my mom explain what we were going to do. It turns out that
we were going to make picture boxes. Everyone had to cut out
pictures they liked from magazines and then glue them down to
small cardboard boxes. Finally, it was free time. You know what
happened next. We ate dinner and part of evening program was
cancelled. Everyone had singing time in the Big Lodge, and soon
went to sleep.
On Saturday, I awoke again to the sound of Jamie's
voice. The day went smoothly. In crafts we continued our boxes.
For Adventure Group. my group had caving. We finally got to
finish our water games. But no one knew that something terrible
was to happen.
Sunday was miserable, because it was raining and
muddy. We were stuck in the dining hall playing BINGO all day.
After dinner, my cabins' job was to sweep the dining hall. Turns
out it was safer for our cabin to stay in the dining hall until
it was time for bed. Ashley and I took our medicine and quickly
walked to bed.
On Monday at breakfast, Caitlyn told me we might
have to be sent home. I thought nothing of it. Then Gracie told
us that the rain made the creek rise 9 feet, which caused the
gas tank for the stove to rip off of the wall, and the bridge
was gone. I didn't hear much, because I was downstairs taking
my medicine. There was so much mud on the kitchen floor that
I couldn't believe it. I got up just in time to hear the Warm
Fuzzy story. In about 15 minutes, we were in our cabin packing
up. All the kids left right then. I didn't leave until the next
day, because my mom was too tired. All the kids kept themselves
busy until they left.
I'll never forget that experience,for one reason
and one reason only- because it happened at my favorite place
in the world.
Behold the Harmless Hornet
Paul Brasler
I was taking a break in my room in Lakeside Lodge
this summer, when I noticed a small hornet’s nest in a
tree outside my window. I hate stinging insects, but I am fascinated
by the structures they create. Over the next two weeks, I watched
the nest grow.
During my first summer at camp, in 1992, I had
a different sort of encounter with a hornet’s nest. Camp
Alkulana was a lot smaller then; we didn’t have a number
of buildings that now stand, and we did not have the tower.
Of the existing buildings, many require a lot of maintenance
on their roofs, which is how Davo discovered the hornet’s
nest in a tree over the parking lot.
He told some of the other male counselors, including
myself, and we immediately deduced that the nest was a threat
and needed to be destroyed. I admit that I would like to say
that this was a reality, but in fact, the nest stood about 25
feet off the ground, was barely visible from the ground, and
was nowhere near where our campers or staff congregated. In
fact, we probably would have missed its very existence were
it not for the roofing project.
The other point of our interest is that we are
guys. Men, especially young men who don’t know any better,
like to blow things up, destroy things or get involved with
anything having to do with fire. Before we knew it, about eight
of us were thinking of ways to take down the imminent threat
to the safety of our camp. “It was for the children,”
we said.
Gracie, our camp director, found out about our
plans. She voiced her opposition, but like any other good leader,
weighed the situation and decided that she would simply let
us do what we wanted to do, with the understanding that no one
(save the hornets) would get hurt.
So here was our plan. After the kids went to sleep,
we would use a pre-assembled pole with a rag soaked in kerosene
to light the nest on fire. Yes, we were definitely hi-tech.
Doing things in this manner was also a good way to assuage our
love of destruction and fire. Ostensibly to make sure that,
in our stupidity, none of us got hurt and we did not burn the
camp down, Gracie and several female staff took up positions
behind a screened-in porch near the battle zone.
We lit the rag (i.e., armed the weapon), and raised it toward
the target.
When then discovered that our calculations were
wrong and that the pole was about three feet too short. To compensate
for this, we backed up Gracie’s truck, and stood in the
bed of it, and re-deployed the weapon. It impacted perfectly
with the target.
You may not know this, but hornet’s nests
are largely made of paper. The nest caught pretty quickly, but
in doing so, part of it detached and came crashing to the ground.
That piece, still on fire, landed right under the gas tank of
Gracie’s truck. Several of us ran to get buckets to put
out the fire, while one of us kept his wits and actually moved
the truck away. The rest of the colony was destroyed, and as
warriors after a battle, we surveyed the parking lot, which
by our flashlights, was covered with many bodies of the fallen.
None of us were stung.
Gracie and her companions emerged from their sanctuary,
one of them muttering, “and now the nightmares will end.”
They laughed at us, sarcastically commenting on our bravery.
At our staff devotional the next morning, Gracie
said she would like to read from a little-known psalm:
Behold the harmless hornet
He doesn’t want to hurt anyone
Especially when he builds his nest 25 feet off the ground
Behold the brave male counselors
As they set fire to the harmless hornet
We had a good laugh at our own sense of righteousness.
I’ve heard people say that with age comes
wisdom. While I do not consider myself wise, I still chuckle
at my sense of determination those years ago to do something
that really didn’t need to be done.
I left the nest this summer alone.
In Memory of Ciel Michaels
Paul Brasler, Chair
Alkulana Support Team
I met Ciel when I first came to camp as a counselor
in 1992. Her son, Ben, was also working as a counselor at the
time. Like many of us who come down the camp driveway, Ciel
was ‘hooked’ on Alkulana’s ministry during
her visit to the camp.
Ciel served in a number of roles at camp and in
Richmond: staff trainer, camp nurse, advocate for the ministry,
surrogate mother to more than a few campers and counselors,
and as a member of the Camp Support Team.
It was in that last role that I got to know Ciel
well. Ciel had an amazing ability to see the end product of
an idea, while also remaining on target and not lose sight of
the big picture. Ciel understood finances and their importance
to ministry. But it was her compassion and deep-seated commitment
to the people served by camp that drove her.
I used to joke with Ciel that she couldn’t
talk about Alkulana’s ministry for more than a minute
without tearing up. She had an immense desire to talk about
the changes in people’s lives that camp created, and never
held back the ways that she had been touched, and had seen others
touched, by the ministry. It wasn’t until I was older
that I fully understood that tears can often convey so much
more than words.
Ciel fought cancer for a long time. Even when
she was sick from chemotherapy, she would come to meetings or
would email me ideas. Ciel went to be face-to-face with God
in June. I miss hearing from her, and the entire team will greatly
miss her wisdom and insight.
Goodbye Ciel, and thank you.
Free Falling
Laura Taylor
Droplets of freezing mountain mist clung to me
as I stood at the edge of the cliff. "I need you to step
over the edge so I can harness you in," my co-counselor,
Ronda, said. I closed my eyes and tried to steady my breathing
before I took a step out onto a smaller ledge. I threw my arms
into a death grip around a tree trunk extending diagonally from
the face of the cliff. Ronda looked out at me and laughed. "Calm
down!" she said, "Or I’ll throw you off!"
I smiled nervously, pretending not to notice the
deadly pit of jagged rocks two hundred feet below. "You’ve
gone off the tower at camp a hundred times before," she
reassured. "You just have to trust yourself." I knew
she was right; I knew that I could do this, but I was scared.
The first few steps over the edge were definitely the hardest
part. It’s a difficult transition between standing on
firm ground and then having to trust the entire weight of one’s
body to a skinny little rope. My legs and arms began to tremble
as I lowered myself. The muscles in my hands and fingers grew
tight and cramped from clenching the rope. I knew that if I
let go, if something were to go wrong, I could fall ...I could
die. I shook the thought from my head and looked down at my
other co-counselors who were cheering me on. "I can do
this!" I thought to myself. I regained confidence and took
another step down, but just as I made contact with the surface
I lost my footing and slipped. My body slammed hard against
a rock causing me to slip downward a few feet. I scrambled to
regain my stance but I began to panic. I looked quickly up at
Ronda, and then down at my belay, Travis, who held tight to
the rope to keep me from slipping. "I could die" I
thought again to myself. Well, if there was any possibility
that I was going to die, I was going to heaven! Tears streaming
down my face, I threw my head back and began praying. "Dear
God, I’m sorry that I fought with my parents! I’m
sorry that I was mean to my little brother! I’m sorry
for cheating on my chemistry quiz! I’m sorry for every
bad thing I have EVER done!.........I REPENT!!!!!!!!!!!"
Heaving myself forward, I looked down to realize
that everyone standing below me was laughing hysterically. I
realized I wasn't crying anymore, and then I began to laugh
too. I was laughing so hard that for a moment I forgot that
I was dangling some hundred feet above the ground ...until of
course, I looked down. I remembered exactly where I was, and
I panicked again. "You’re doing fine!," Ronda
shouted down to me." Trust yourself!" she smiled.
I smiled a half doubtful grin and thought "Trust myself?
...trust myself?!" For the first time in my life I had
absolutely no control over what was happening, and I was scared.
But, I soon realized that the only way I was going to make it
down alive would be to just calm down, take it one step at a
time, and ...trust myself. I was determined.
I did finally make it down the cliff that day.
I kissed the sweet ground and thanked the Lord, vowing never
to do it again. As I was sitting there trying to catch my breath
I realized something. I had just rappelled down the face of
a two hundred foot cliff! I did something that I never would
have imagined I could do. "I’m proud of you!"
Ronda said, sitting down beside me. I was proud of myself too.
It may have taken me close to an hour, but I overcame my fears
and I did it!
In tough situations it’s sometimes hard
to be strong and try to figure out what to do. That day I learned
that I have the strength to do anything. Of course, I still
get shivers at the thought of rappelling down that cliff, but
now I know that I can do it. I can do anything that I set my
mind to. All I have to do is relax, have faith in God, trust
those around me, and most importantly, trust myself.
A Fish Tale
Donald Holliday
I love to fish. I love everything about it; the
relaxation, the anticipation and, of course, the big catch.
The past two summers at Alkulana I had the awesome opportunity
to take some of the male campers fishing. I quickly learned
that taking four or five boys fishing takes a lot of the relaxation
out of the sport! Instead it was replaced with being hit in
the head with bobbers, constantly untangling fishing lines and
getting the fishing hooks out of the trees. We sure did catch
a lot of “tree” fish! I also learned that I had
much more patience than I ever dreamed I had.
This past summer however, showed me the incredible
joy that can come out of fishing. I can remember one specific
day, where I was fishing in a canoe with one of the boys. It
had been a typical day fishing; stuck lines, broken poles and
no fish. I would quickly fix his pole so he could get back into
the action as soon as possible.
I’ll never forget the moment when he hooked
his first fish. His line was going crazy and he was getting
really excited, so I coached him on how to reel the line in.
He reeled it in and sure enough he had caught a small-mouth
bass, which was his first fish he had ever caught. The smile
on his face will forever be ingrained on mind and heart. It
was the biggest, most sincere, smile I have ever seen. In fact,
you may have thought he had just caught the biggest fish in
the world, and to him he did.
To me, this is exactly what Camp Alkulana is all
about. Boys and girls like him have been able to experience
many ‘firsts’ because of Alkulana. I know that wherever
life leads him he will always remember his first fish that he
caught at Alkulana. I know that I will. I felt God’s love
and presence that day in way that I had never felt it before.
I know in my heart that he felt God’s love that day too,
even if he did not have a real understanding of God. However,
I know that he will look back on that moment, maybe many years
down the road, and he will know how real God is and how much
He loves him.
Recovering From Reality
Michael S. Williams
This past summer we had thirteen inches of rain
at Alkulana, and had to spend a month putting the place back
into order to make it safe enough to allow about 200 kids to
experience the outdoors. We looked at this as a struggle and
a test of our faith. Sadly, in retrospect, for the kids that
had never experienced Alkulana before, they knew nothing different
and had the time of their lives in the five-day sessions they
had at Alkulana as opposed to the eight and twelve-day sessions
we usually have. We were, indeed, humbled after being made to
trust God as opposed to blaming him.
As I have processed and recovered from the reality of this past
summer, the impact it made on my life and the increased strength
it gave me in my faith, it also allowed me to look back at some
other challenges I have been blessed with in my 20 years with
Alkulana. I sat around the Alkulana campfire several weeks back
(thinking I was going to fish, while not realizing that fish
don’t care much for movement in cold weather, thus relegating
my experience to sitting around the campfire reflecting on the
ministry of Alkulana), and was humbled at how arrogant I realized
I had been with respect to how those challenges were actually
blessings.
While Alkulana’s mission remains to minister
to the many children we serve from inner-city Richmond, the
reality is that Alkulana reaches so many more through mission
trips and retreats. In being part of (and helping organize)
several of these in the past years, I have witnessed first hand
the far-reaching impact of Alkulana’s ministry through
the blessings we have faced.
I have yet to experience a summer where Alkulana’s physical
plant didn’t need to be patched, repaired, re-engineered,
re-thought, and in the case of this past summer, almost re-built.
These blessings brought out several area wide youth from the
local community, youth from my church in Winchester, men from
Richmond, the local Millboro Community and Winchester, VA. In
each of these situations, I met no-one that left Alkulana feeling
anything less than blessed.
In my 20 years in this Christ-focused ministry,
I have seen children and adults come to know the Lord and accept
Christ through this aspect of Alkulana’s ministry. Savings
and credits to God’s kingdom that came about as a result
of circumstances many of us at Alkulana wished never happened.
How arrogant and self-serving of us.
If this past summer (and my last visit around
the Alkulana campfire on a cold winter night several weeks back)
taught me anything, it was to Praise God (as opposed to blaming
him) for the many challenges he has given us, and (most assuredly)
will continue to bless us with.
“Be joyful always; pray continually; give
thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for
you in Christ Jesus”.
Lost in Camp
Paul Brasler
Preparation is the key to continued success at Alkulana, and
many years ago, I experienced this firsthand. In the summer of
1994, campers celebrated the opening of the ‘Flush.’
This facility, which includes flush-toilets, was made possible
due to a gift from a former camp nurse. For the first time in
80 years, Alkulana campers would be able to flush toilets! No
more caps (outhouses)!
That same year, during the Little Boys session, I had the youngest
camper in camp assigned to my cabin. His name was Ryan. He stood
all of 4 feet and some inches high, talked a lot, and was generally
a pleasant person. He also liked to get up at 6 AM each day, nearly
two hours before he was supposed to get up.
“I don’t want to miss anything,” he’d
say with boundless energy, even though I assured him that there
was nothing to miss that early in the morning.
He wasn’t alone, so about halfway through the session,
Robert Parker (a veteran counselor) decided to wake up early and
take any early-rising campers to see a beaver dam (and hopefully
the beavers). His true intention was, of course, to get the kids
out of camp to allow others to sleep.
The first morning he tried this, Ryan got up and left with him
and about 12 other campers. When we got everyone else up just
before 8 AM, Ryan wasn’t there. I didn’t worry at
that time, because I knew he was with Robert. But a few minutes
later, at flag-raising, no Ryan. I checked the Flush, no Ryan.
I even went so far as to look under the stalls, but didn’t
see anyone.
I then saw Robert, and asked him where Ryan was. He assured me
that he had brought back the same number of kids that he’d
left with. I began to worry. I checked the cabin, no Ryan. I told
Robert my concerns, and he told Gracie. She asked me if I’d
checked the Flush, and I’d assured her that I had. Robert
said he was going to go back to the beaver dam. Gracie started
to organize staff for a full-camp search, including a search of
the swim-hole. I was near panic.
I turned around, and then was Ryan, standing outside the Flush.
He was smiling.
“Where were you?” I asked.
“I was in the bathroom,” he said.
Robert sighed and Gracie smiled. Ryan had been in the bathroom,
and I hadn’t seen him sitting on the commode because he
was so short. Robert and Gracie were laughing pretty hard at this
time.
“I guess you should have called his name when you looked,
doc,” said Robert, smiling.
To this day, I use this story as an example of preparation, planning,
and to remember that anyone can make a mistake.
If you have been to Camp Alkulana in the past 13 years, you knew
Cora Mabry. Her health had been failing for the past few years
as she battled Parkinson’s disease. On November 24, 2006
she entered a new stage of life.
Several of her camp friends were able to attend the memorial
service in DeLand, Florida. She would have been pleased with her
send off. For starters, her daughters brought Cora’s beloved
and devoted dog, Annabelle, to the memorial service and to the
graveside. This, they believed, would have been her wish, and
I am sure of it! Cora never was a fan of tradition! If that were
not enough to set the tone for the service, her three-year grandson
did it. We had just sung an opening hymn when he very loudly asked
his father, “Is it over?” The mourners cracked up
with laughter—just the way Cora would have wanted it!
The graveside service brought smiles, too, as Cora was reunited
with her husband, Jack. It was her wish that his ashes be dug
up and combined with hers in final rest. She had been adamant
that she did not want to be confined in some kind of container.
She wanted to just go into the ground…with Jack. So that’s
exactly what happened. When the funeral director explained this
with a disclaimer that this was a first in her long career, we
laughed. Well, of course, what would you expect from Cora Mabry?
I was among three of Cora’s friends who spoke at her memorial
service. Below are the memories I shared at the service.
Cora Mabry referred to me more than once as her “partner
in crime.” I think that was a compliment, dating back to
the first year we met. When I was a student at Stetson, I initiated
a BSU project—a couple of weekend retreats for disadvantaged
kids in and around the DeLand area. We needed a token “adult”
so Cora’s husband, Jack, who was the BSU Director at Stetson,
volunteered his wife. Cora pronounced the weekends successful
because nobody died and we didn’t end up with more kids
than we started with!
I told Cora that if ever I should direct a real camp, I’d
call on her to help and she promised she would. We were both kidding,
of course…but that’s exactly what happened! In 1978,
Camp Alkulana, a camp for inner city children of Richmond, VA,
had a new director—me. As my first summer approached, I
was terrified, so I called Cora and reminded her of her promise.
She and Jack arrived the day that the older Boys’ session
began. They were big guys…and some of them pretty tough.
The Mabry team was not intimidated. With their help, I survived.
In 1992 when Jack moved to heaven, Cora was devastated and at
loose ends. Camp Alkulana needed an arts and crafts leader, and
who better than Cora Mabry? She reluctantly came to camp that
summer, certain that she had nothing to offer. How wrong she was!
Until she was physically unable, Cora spent most of her summers
at Camp Alkulana. It didn’t take campers long to figure
out that this woman was a force to be reckoned with! She insisted,
“If you’re going to do this project, you are going
to do it right.” She didn’t accept sloppy attitudes
or whining at her craft house. She didn’t accept bad manners
either and had creative ways to get her point across. She told
one child that he must have run out of “pleases” and
until he found them, she was not going to help him! After camp
was over, his mother, our camp nurse, called Cora to tell her
that Philip seemed to be out of “pleases” again. Cora
wrote “please” on many strips of paper and mailed
them to him!
Kids walked a line of respect with her, but they also adored
her. She made each child feel special; she saw beauty in each
camper’s attempt at art. We have a nickname for the 9, 10
and 11 year old boys’ session. We call it “Camp Ritalin.”
Few craft leaders had survived this session without having a major
melt down. But Cora seemed to have no problem at all. When the
kids got rowdy, she had them make an eye of God. The soothing
motion of wrapping the yarn calmed them. And as they wrapped,
she talked to them about how God watches over us and loves us.
God’s Eyes have become the standard craft at Alkulana! It’s
just something you do if you come to camp!
Joseph was one of those “Camp Ritalin” boys that
learned from Cora how to make a God’s Eye. He got so excited
about his new craft that he made them for Christmas gifts the
following December and showered all his family with them. The
year that Cora had to call it quits for camp except for brief
visits, Joseph made this God’s Eye for her and asked me
to deliver it with lots of love, “Just like the love she
gave him,” he explained.
It is not unusual at Camp Alkulana for a child to be denied a
hiking or caving trip because he or she cannot follow directions.
(It’s a matter of safety.) If Cora wasn’t teaching
a craft class, I’d send the wayward camper to her to entertain
for the time the child’s group was out of camp. The camper
would make a God’s Eye and a friend…and very often,
the child’s behavior would miraculously improve.
Cora liked to be where the action was, so she slept in the infirmary.
The “action” was not because of sickly people, but
because the infirmary is next door to the staff bathroom. Staff
never made a trip to the toilet without checking to see if Cora
was in. They liked to talk to her—she was witty and bright.
If you were having a bad day, she’d come up with something
to make it seem better...or at least not so bad. She was a wise
woman, and I consulted her often. I remember the time that I was
fretting over something and commented to her that I just “couldn’t
get my hands around the solution.” Her quick (and accurate)
response was, “Oh, I think you have…but you’ve
strangled it!”
Camp Alkulana built a rappelling tower in 1997. For those of
you who might not know, rappelling is lowering yourself by a rope
from a high place. It can be intimidating the first time you step
off of the 40-foot landing! Did it intimidate this seventy-something
grandmother? No way! The rappel master offered to “throw
her off” as we say, from the 20-foot landing, but she replied
with her quick wit, “What’s the matter…are you
afraid to go to the top?” Cora’s grandson, Matt, a
counselor at Alkulana, did the rappel with her. We snapped a photo
and I had it printed on a T-shirt. I heard that she wore the shirt
to church one Sunday when she got back home. Somehow that did
not surprise me!
The next summer we managed to break her hip. She was in the wrong
place at the wrong time, and the boy running to catch the football
never saw her until he was on top of her on the ground. When the
emergency room doctor asked her how the injury happened, she said,
“Football injury.” She perpetuated this tale throughout
her recovery!
The amazing thing was that she came back to camp the next summer,
and the next and the next, spreading humor, wisdom, love…and
paint. Yes, paint!
She has left her mark all over camp: bouquets of flowers and
balloons painted on doors, posts and cabinets. If she really liked
something she had heard, those words were painted as well. One
of her favorite sayings was “Preach the Gospel at all times;
if necessary use words.” This she painted with floral decoration
on the wall of our Retreat House.
After reading the book, “What’s so Amazing About
Grace,” the notion hit her to paint, “I’m the
one Jesus Loves” on all the mirrors at camp. Several years
later, she might have taken it a bit too far. I glanced in a mirror
and read, “Jesus loves you, but I’m His favorite.”
