Stories from my childhood: Midnight raids at summer camp

(by Michael)

I attended my first Boy Scout summer camp at Camp Thunder in Georgia when I was twelve years old.  It was fun, I loved Boy Scouts and camping and anything where I could travel far away and do fun stuff.  This story starts on the last night of summer camp:  Friday night, the night before we would leave to go back home.  We were gathered around the picnic table in our campsite reviewing the week’s activities and how much fun we had.  There were only five boys from our troop who came to camp:  me, my best friend Jared, who was my age, Mat and Mark, who were both 13, and Chris, Mark's older brother.  He was 15.  There we were sitting around camp when suddenly the lantern went out.  KER-SPLASH!  Someone hit me with a water balloon!  There were more ker-splashes, and I soon realized that we were being ambushed by our scoutmasters with water balloons.  All of us were under attack and scrambling.  Mat and I tried to get to the ice chest where the water balloons were stashed while the scoutmasters were busy throwing some at the others.  Now I had ammo to fight back, but I was tripped up by Mark, who was on the ground for some reason, and I dropped my balloons.  Chris was quick thinking and grabbed the water hose at the latrine and use it on them.  After it was all over, we were all drenched and laughing, but still in shock that we were taken completely off guard… and that our scoutmasters had done something so fun and cool.  But what was even more shocking was what they said when we got the lantern lit up again.  “That was fun,” they said, “now, let’s go get another troop.”

We were all up for that and were so excited we couldn’t sit still.  We changed into our camouflage and filled up some more water balloons.  When we came back to the table, our scoutmasters threw us for a loop.  They decided that they could not participate in a water balloon attack on another campsite because if we got caught we might never be allowed to come back to Camp Thunder.  However, they said we could choose to do it on our own.  That way they would have plausible deniability and act like they knew nothing about it.  We were alright with that and started making plans.  We looked at our little map of the camp and picked the campsite furthest away from ours as are target, all the way on the other end of camp.  We waited until midnight and loaded up with a water balloon in each hand, ready to head out.

There were two paths leading out of our campsite.  The shorter route led straight to the main road by the dining hall, and the other path led right through Troop 150’s campsite, which was next to ours.  We wanted to go undetected, so the logical route was away from the campsites, toward the road.  We were soon halted, however, because in the open space around the big dining hall there were several light poles, and next to the dining hall was a pavilion with picnic tables and coke machines.  Sitting under the pavilion were a couple of scoutmasters who decided to stay up and chat.  They would certainly see us as soon as we left the woods to head in any direction, so we knew we couldn’t go that way.  That meant we had to go back the other way, through the campsite. 

We had to be sneaky and quiet so as to not wake anyone in Troop 150 or draw their attention if they happened to be awake in their tents.  We had tiptoed about halfway across their campsite when we heard a voice come out of one of the tents, “Where are you going?”  It was the scoutmaster.  Mat quickly replied, “to the coke machine to get a drink,” which was obviously a lie because we were headed in the exact opposite direction of the coke machines.  “Go back to bed!” the man replied from inside his tent.  “Okay,” he said, but kept going forward instead of turning around to go back.  We got through the campsite and nobody followed us or said anything else, so we thought we were pretty slick.  The trail curved around and crossed the road that passed above the dining hall, the side road that only staff people take to get to and from the staff lodge.  We took that road because it was dark and less likely to be traveled at night, and we could get to it without being seen by the scoutmasters who were sitting by the dining hall.  The only thing is we would have to sneak past the staff lodge at the end of the road where there were many people still awake and lights were on.  Still, maneuvering through the adjacent parking lot undetected was easy enough.  As we started down the dark road, we noticed something.  Someone was missing.  It was Mark!  Back when the scoutmaster told us to go back to bed, we kept going, but Mark actually turned around and went back to our own campsite.  We were shaking our heads but were rather amused at his blunder.  Oh well, we’d press on without him, just the four of us.  It was too bad he’d miss out on the adventure, but we weren’t really sad about it because he seemed more a liability in situations like this, and he’d already demonstrated why.

We approached the campsite we selected for our target.  It was pitch dark outside.  We huddled together behind a picnic table that sat near the entrance to the campsite to go over our strategy so everyone knew what to do.  Our biggest concern was not getting caught, so we made sure we knew when to book it out of there and what our escape route would be.  While we were crouched there together, someone started walking out of the campsite in our direction.  We started to panic.  We all shushed each other and tried to stay perfectly still, hoping whoever it was would not see us and pass us by, but inside I was sure we were caught, and I was already trying to think of some excuse why were there.  The person came closer, and I was about to start running away when he spoke in a whisper, “guys, is that you?”  It was Mark!  “Mark! Get down and shush!” we told him as forcefully as possible in a whisper.  You can imagine we were just as perplexed and shocked as you are about how in the world he wound up there at that time, and we started asking questions.  It turns out, when he realized he was the only one who went back to camp, he decided to catch up with us by going the other way…walking right past the two scoutmasters who stayed up talking by the dining hall.  He even went into the staff lodge to look at the big map of the camp on the wall to find out how to get to the target campsite.  Evidently, he took a different trail that led to the other end of the campsite… and walked right through it until he found us.  We were all face palming and cursing him under our breath.  Our operation was doomed, we thought.  How could you be so stupid, Mark!  He swore up and down that nobody noticed him.  We doubted that, but had come too far to turn back.  Everything seemed quiet, so we felt secure in going ahead with the plan. 

We crept into the target campsite to take our positions.  None of us took into account that Mark was absent at the time we made our final plans by the picnic table.  The tents were set up in a large circular formation.  They were canvas tents with door flaps on each end.  Crouching like ninjas, we filed in, each of us positioned behind a different tent.  We all had a water balloon in each hand that we had been carrying with us the whole time, which was another reason why we were so upset with Mark.  He said, he had kept them out of view, but I still thought it was a stupid thing to do.  He was positioned at the tent next to the one I was at.  I was still ticked at him, so I told him “don’t say a word” in a stern whisper as we entered the campsite.

We were all set.  I was waiting on a sign from Chris or Mat.  They were the oldest, so they were the de facto leaders of our team.  We had to do it quickly and all at once.  I was ready to follow their lead.  Then Mark started motioning at me.  He was about 15 feet away. I had no idea what he was trying to say.  I just waved him off to tell him to stop messing around and get ready.  Then he tip-toed over to where I was.  “Now, what?!” I thought to myself.  He leaned toward me and asked in the softest whisper possible, “what do I do if there’s only one person in the tent?”  I gritted my teeth and whispered “throw it at ‘em! Now, get over there!”  When we were back in position, I peeked inside the tent where I was at and beheld my victims.  I perked my eyes and ears again, waiting for a signal to go.  I did not want to wait any longer, so I lifted the tent flap, raised my water balloons in the air, and… SPLAT!  SPLAT!  I did it!  Then I took off running through the middle of the campsite back out the way we came.  Soon, the others were right behind me.  We kept running—filled with adrenaline—until  we were far away.  As I ran I could hard contain my laughter brought on by the exhilaration of what had just happened, but I was conscious about not making too much noise.  When we were far enough away and in a spot where we were sure no one could see us, we stopped to look back to check if anyone had followed us and to make sure we were all together.  “Did you throw yours?” I asked the others.  “Yeah,” they all said.  We all laughed out of excitement, but quietly, because we were still worried about getting caught.  “I thought you were gonna go first,” I said to Chris.  “I don’t know,” he replied, “I just froze and didn’t know what to do until I heard you throw yours and start running.”  Mark held up a water balloon in his hand and said, “hey guys, what do I do with this?”  “Get rid of it!” we told him, so he busted it on the ground. 

We decided  it was time to move on.  We took the long way back to our campsite to stay away from anyone who might decide to look for the culprits.  We weren’t in too big of a hurry at that point.  We walked along and retold our event to each other over and over, and commented on how awesome it was and how we should do it again next year.  We snuck back into our own tents easy enough, and not two minutes after I was in my bunk we heard pick-up trucks driving up and down the roads.  I was sure they were looking for us.  We were camped close enough to the road that I could see they were using spotlights to search for people lurking around.  I had a quiet fear that they would wake everyone up and start questioning us all, but as the noise drifted away I swelled up with a sense of pride and accomplishment about our successful secret mission. 

The next day we heard nothing about it from anyone around camp.  Everyone was getting ready to go home that day.  I thought about what it was like for the poor, unsuspecting individuals we had bombed with water balloons the night before.  It was quite amusing to me.  We discreetly told our scoutmasters about our mission accomplished, but didn’t say anything else about it until we were out of camp.  I had enjoyed summer camp that week, but that night’s events made my whole summer.  I couldn’t wait to replicate the adventure at the next summer camp.

To be continued…

Stories from my childhood: Vicious German Shepherds

(by Michael)

When I was a wee lad growing up in Jeader subdivision in Coffee County, my siblings and I often walked up and down the dirt roads of the neighborhood visiting friends.  There was one family that lived about a mile down the road from us that had two pretty teenage girls.  I was only 5 or 6 years old.  Patty was 15, and Cathy was 17.  I thought Cathy was so pretty because she was tall, slender, and blond.   I thought Patty was pretty, too, but Cathy was the prettiest and sweetest girl I knew of.  One day I was playing with my friend James in their front yard (James lived next door to Patty and Cathy).  My older brothers had already gone home, but I doddled around there a little longer.  When I finally decided to head home, I walked down the road only a couple hundred feet before I had to pass by the German shepherds’ house. 

Now, I had no idea at that age that a German shepherd was a dog.  All I knew is that an older kid on that street named Jimmy told me to be careful around that house because there were two vicious German shepherds that lived there.  I did know what a shepherd was.  I had learned about that in Sunday School.  And I knew what Germans are because I lived in Germany with my family before we moved to Alabama.  So I was very frightened of the “vicious German shepherds” that lived at that house that I had to pass by all by myself.  I slowly and fearfully started walking by the house.  I couldn’t actually see the house because there was a fence around the yard with a thick hedge of trees along the fence, but I could make out where the house was, and I could see if there was anyone outside. 

Well, that day there was someone outside in the yard.  I couldn’t see them well, just where they were standing.  I watched the figure of a man approach the hedge with an object in his hands.  Then he cranked up the weed whacker (that’s what he was holding) and started cutting stuff.  I didn’t know what a weed whacker was at the time.  I thought he had a chainsaw and was coming after me (keep in mind I was only about 6 years old).  I turned around and ran back down the street.  I saw Patty and Cathy in their front yard talking to some neighborhood kids.  I told them I was lost and asked if they could help me get home.  I didn’t want to admit I was scared.  Patty held my hand and walked me home.  I was kind of hoping Cathy would have walked me home instead, but I was still quite happy to walk with Patty.  I never actually saw the German shepherds, but I did later find out what a German shepherd really is, so I wasn’t so scared to walk by there any more since I knew there was a fence around the yard.  It’s interesting how different a child’s perception of things can be.  It's also nice to have someone who will hold your hand when you are scared.

"Be strong and of a good courage, fear not, nor be afraid of them: for the Lord thy God, he it is that doth go with thee; he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee." (Deuteronomy 31:6)

"For I the Lord thy God will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee, Fear not; I will help thee." (Isaiah 41:13)

7 movies with great adoption stories

It is no wonder why adoption is on our minds, so here is our list of great adoption-themed movies.
These are not movies strictly about adoption necessarily, but rather movies that have a nice adoption story in them, whether it's the main plot or a subliminal theme.  You will not find in this list many of the movies that might first come to mind when you think "adoption movie" (such as All Dogs Go To Heaven and other orphan movies--and no pet movies).  Rather, these are movies that stand out in my mind that do a good job of showing the bond that is formed between individuals who are brought together through various circumstances and become a family based on love rather than blood.  I hope you enjoy.  Feel free to comment with questions, suggestions, or recommendations for other good movies.

Angels in the Outfield (1994)
"I thought you said you have to be somewhere."  "I do... right here."
Roger prayed for a miracle that would bring him and his father together permanently.  A miracle came, but not with the results that Roger hoped for.  The angels didn't come to help fulfill his dad's promise, but rather to bring Roger (and J.P.) close to the one whose heart would be touched and would love him like a son.  The rest of the movie is silly and cheesy (especially the whole arm-flapping part), but the closing scene is heartwarming.

 

Annie (1982)
"It'll be fine. Nothing to fear. She'll be as happy as she was here.... And I know I'll forget how much she meant to me and how she was almost my baby... maybe."
Okay, so there are exceptions to every rule, right?  Yeah, I know, Annie is such a stereotypical orphan movie--maybe even the quintessential orphan movie.  Still, above the singing and dancing and the comical storyline is the theme of love as Oliver Warbucks' realizes that he enjoys being a dad and that his heart has been stolen by a darling little girl.  Their mutual love is revealed as they mourn their separation when Annie's "real parents" take her away.  As you contemplate their developing relationship, it's hard not to tear up at this touching moment at the end: https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=jymwZyr6QCI&t=189

Les Miserables (2012)

You'll probably guess that we like musicals, but don't worry, these are not all musicals.  One of the touching things about adoption stories in movies is the personal change that happens to a person as they realize how another has become their whole life.  Since this entire movie is sung, instead of quoting the movie, I will post the song the demonstrates this feeling by Jean Valjean for his adopted daughter, Cosette. (Side note:  the song "Suddenly" is not in the original score, but was written for the movie.)

Australia (2008) 
“I’ll sing you to me, Mrs. Boss.”

(Just in case you're wondering, the two Hugh Jackman movies is a coincidence.)  This movie is a bit unique from the others in the list in that three separate people are brought together to form a family:  mother, father, and son.  A parallel subliminal theme of this movie is that of faith.  This family turns out in the end because they each learn to have faith in each other in order to be reunited, and they learn as they gain that faith that they do indeed really love each other.

P.S. Lesson learned: ensure privacy before you "make wrong side business."

The Sound of Music (1965)
“How do you solve a problem like Maria?”

By giving her seven adorable yet impossible children to care for.  This movie is sort of a reverse adoption story in which the children adopt a mother while their widowed father also finds true love anew.  In the end, this family are willing to leave everything else behind to escape with each other for their freedom.

Follow Me, Boys! (1966)

"Alright, you hoodlums, pile out of there.  Oh, and Mr. Hastings, from now on I'm the only one that calls them that, alright."

An infertile couple finds the void of having children is filled by the many boys the husband mentors as a scoutmaster in the Boy Scout troop he started in a small rural town.  They end up adopting one of them--a particularly troubled child--after the boy is orphaned.  The movie in general is about the difference one man can make in a community through selfless service and brotherly love, but the subplot of the development of this family is a particularly touching aspect.

Last, but certainly not least...

The Blindside (2009) 
“Would you like to become a part of this family?”  “I kind of thought I already was.”
 The best part about this movie is that it's a true story!  In real life, older children in the adoption arena are less wanted and provoke less compassion than little children, so the charity--the pure love of Christ--shown by this mother is incredibly moving and inspiring.  Everything about this movie (at least the parts that contribute to the happy ending) should bring joy to your heart.

Stories from my childhood: The fight that SHOULD HAVE ended before it started.

(by Michael)

I’m not proud of this, but unlike in the previous story, I did engage in some fights here and there throughout my childhood, even at a very young age.  The first brawl I can remember that involved someone other than my brother was when I was around 9 years old back in Jeaderville (as we affectionately called Jeader subdivision).  I had a friend named James who lived down the road from me about a mile.  Yes, we were friends, and no I don’t remember why we got in a fight.  I had another friend named James that lived next door to him (don’t worry, this won’t get confusing).  We were all the same age.  From what I remember, I was playing with the Jameses one afternoon in the yard between their houses when the fight started.  We were both punching each other, and after punching each other a bit we were ready to stop.  But James’ mother was not.  The fight had attracted the attention of all the neighbors, and people were standing around watching us.  They must have thought it amusing because I was a scrawny little kid, and James was obese, about three times my size (but the same height), which was odd because everyone else in his family was as skinny as sticks. 

His mother was mad that he’d gotten into a fight, and one of her rules is that if you start a fight you must finish it.  I thought we were finished, but apparently finishing a fight to her meant he had to “whip his ass!”  She would yell at him to whip my ass, and he would build up enough anger to try.  We’d swap licks for a bit and then stop again.  Then she’d start in on him again.  When he had really had enough he said, “I don’t want to, mama!” but that wasn’t good enough for her.  She said “I’m going to get my leather strip.”  Sure enough, she went in the house and came back out with a strip of leather about 2 inches wide that she used for disciplining her children.  I could not believe she would spank him to make him fight.  I guess it taught him a lesson.  She waved it at him, and he cried, “MAMA!”  He was really crying by now.  I was just wondering how I would get out of that situation.  She smacked him on the butt with the leather strip and yelled at him again to whip my ass.  That set him off again, and he came at me.  We wrestled around and ended up rolling on the ground.  He pinned me down and punched me a few times.  Then I managed to roll him off of me and get him down to return the licks.  We went through this motion a couple of times until I was tired of pushing his fat belly off of me.  I decided to just let him sit on my and punch me until he was done.  I realized it didn’t really hurt as long as I turned my head so he couldn’t punch my face.  When I did that, I noticed that my eldest brother, Brent, was standing in the circle of spectators waiting for the fight to finish.  By then it was dark outside.  He had come looking for me since I didn’t come home before dark.  We were fighting by street light.  I guess James’ mom was satisfied and told him to get inside. I was pretty embarrassed.  I think he was, too.  I got up and we left for home. 

I don’t remember talking about it to anyone after that, except Brent might have asked me during our walk home why we were fighting.  James and I never fought again.  We remained friends, played ball together, had sleepovers, and so on.  That fight always stuck out in my mind as one of the bizarre events of my childhood.  We were just a couple of little boys throwing the weakest punches imaginable, and probably for the dumbest reason.  I’d say it was the worst fight I’ve ever been in, but I don’t really know if that’s accurate.  Anyhow, I’m just glad it really didn’t affect our long-term relationship.