Brett was elated to be back in the state of his first alma matter. He takes pride in his Ole Miss days and gets nostalgic when he thinks about it which is probably a normal thing but I don't understand it and Brett's not usually nostalgic so I reckon it must have been a special thing. Back in the Spring, Brett came bounding into the living room and leapt onto the couch where I was sitting and said, "Can we go to Mississippi in July and volunteer at camp and maybe go visit Ole Miss? Please please. Pretty please?"
Who could say no to that 6'4" puppy face?
We set out after work on a Monday evening, spent the night at a seedy hotel in Augusta, and made it to Jackson on Tuesday afternoon. We went to Jackson just to visit Bobby Morgan. I'm not sure where to start with Bobby Morgan. Ever met a person who oozes the best intentions while flashing the most enormous of endearing smiles and can't help but be delighted by your company? Did that person also have the voice of a "book on tape" performer with a southern drawl and baritone undercurrents? Does he love rocking chairs? Does he act like a gentleman but have a secret devilish sense of humor that he tries his best to control? Is he the kindest, warmest, most optimistic giggler you've ever met? That's Bobby Morgan. He's also unusually clever and has been the public affairs advisor for the governor of Mississippi for the last four years and now he's just been hired as the Vice President of public affairs for an enormous oil company and he's ten years younger than all the other codgers running the show there and when you point all this out to him, he gets embarrassed and says, "Stop. Stop. You're very kind." with the genuine humility of a genuinely humble guy. Can you tell I love Bobby Morgan? He was a college fraternity brother and best bud of Brett's and they're pretty enamored with each other.
"You know a man named Clint Eisenhauer?"
New Co-worker's eyes lit up and New Co-worker freaked out with excitement and rambled on about how much he loved Clint Eisenhauer and then he asked Bobby if he could meet Clint's son (that's Brett) so we all had dinner together and New Co-worker wouldn't stop talking about Clint for the entire four hours we were together. That's right. Four hours.
We got back to Bobby's around 10:30 and I went straight to sleep while Brett and Bob stayed up chatting.
Bobby took us out for a farewell breakfast the next morning and then we rode one more hour south to McComb, Mississippi to sign in for a few days at camp.
Landon is Brett's best friend, ex-band mate, and the big guy that sang our first dance song at our wedding. Landon is an enormous, haphazard guy, with a number of Chris Union-esque qualities in the form of having few craps to give and being endearingly oblivious to absurdity of the way he barrels through life. Landon is loud and confident and fearless while also being an especially gentle and silly "Papa Bear" kind of person whose leg you'd immediately hide behind if anything went wrong. Landon frightens me in all the best ways. My bashful disposition seems foreign to him and he'd throw me right into scenarios as though I'm equipped to handle them. Brett adores Landon for being so brazenly ... Landon. They get together and fire insults at each other and then giggle a bunch and exchange a respectful eye twinkle and you can tell they really think the other is great.
We met Landon at his office and then followed him through the state park to Camp Sunshine. It was lunch hour, and Landon shoved paper plates into our hands and sent us into the cafeteria with dozens of mentally handicapped children and a warning to not look "that guy" in the eyes for too long. Then he'd wander off and Brett and I were left to wonder what would happen if we looked him in the eyes to too long and how long was too long and was it that guy or the big one over there? We ate lunch with a mix of kids with Down Syndrome and another family of camp volunteers and my heart broke immediately and I couldn't really eat.
There are a few summer camps for people with mental and physical handicaps but they're expensive and Mississippi is a poor state. I may get my facts wrong but I believe this free camp started in the 70's and was open to anyone who wanted to come. Back then, there were 10 or 12 twelve campers. This year there were about 110. The campers had a range of troubles from assorted degrees of Downs Syndrome, to a collection of Palseys, to autism. Most campers had the mentality of children though the ages ranged from 4 to 51 or so years old and some were all there mentally but their legs don't work or they can't eat on their own, so coming to a camp tailored to people who don't get to participate in most daily activities is the highlight of their year every year. The older campers have been coming to Camp Sunshine for thirty and forty years. Once camper starts a countdown to Camp Sunshine for next year the day he gets home from camp this year. Everyone knows everyone at camp and there is a palpable lack of self-consciousness or concern for events happening outside of camp. It's a real in the moment place.
Each camper gets a counselor assigned to them for the six days and they do everything together and share a bunk bed at night. The counselors are local high-school and college students who happily turn in their cell phones (there's a strict no phone rule) to spend their time being present with someone who quite literally needs them. I was impressed by the counselor kids and their good attitudes and encouragement. Seeing big jock teenager dudes spend a week of their summer helping a kid go to the bathroom or sitting as the big spoon to another teenager while they go down a side will really give you faith in human kindness. I teared up countless times at Camp Sunshine.
I don't have any experience spending time with handicapped people of any sort. Retrospectively, I suppose I avoided them a bit because I didn't know what to say or how to act or if they would understand me. Landon and Kristin know just about every camper and what their troubles and preferences and quirks are. Landon would grab hold of a kid wandering by, spin them around and say, "Guys, meet Steven. He's inbred!" Steven would nod pleasantly as if to say, "Yep. It's true." and then Landon would let go of him and he'd be on his way. Brett and I smiled nervous smiles and looked up at Landon.
"Oh y'all, you've got to meet Josh." and he'd run go pluck Josh up out of the sand and give him a big hug and ask about some embarrassing issue of Josh's right in front of us but Josh would feel no shame because Josh hasn't learned to be ashamed. Josh would just be delighted to talk to a friend.
Brett and I got lots of hugs and kisses from children we'd never met. Random ones would run up to us and give us their snacks and run away or they tap us on the shoulder and ask if we'd ever been to New Hampshire.
"No. Have you?"
"No." and then they'd walk off and we were left to wonder the deeper meaning of that interaction.
Brett and I were assigned to the Game Tent, so we'd just be overseeing the playing of board games. But after lunch that first day, Landon and Kristin were too excited about us being there and they just kept walking us around, meeting campers and volunteers and telling us all of the embarrassing quirks of the campers. The habits and comments of the campers were often riotous and at first you don't feel like you want to be caught laughing. But we learned that first day how much the kids loved to be teased. Landon would pull the glasses off of a kid, look through them and exclaim, "Dude! You're blind!" and the kid would shriek with laughter. No one ever teases them and they have a sense of humor. I think folks feel so much pity towards a handicapped person that they can't see humor and brightness through the upsetting thoughts they're experiencing in the moment. Handicapped people get lots of pleasant, upbeat small talk from strangers. They like sass and humor and attractive people just like everyone else. Lot's of the campers had crushes on counselors and we constantly caught the boys tactlessly staring at their counselor's décolleté. One girl had a crush on Landon and she'd shriek and get nervous when she saw him coming. Landon would say hello but otherwise not give her the time of day (just like he would do in real life) and it just thrilled her.
The camp was spread out on a few acres of woods and grassy patches. There were a half dozen cabins for girls and really young kids and one big dorm-esque cabin for the boys. The activities ranged from fishing (a small area strategically stocked full of fish so the bites are definite and numerous), nature walks, arts and crafts, swimming (in a pool so loaded with urine that the color is just never quite right), a big water slide, and the unanimous favorite, signing and dancing. The kids are in groups and they get an hour and some change at each activity before they rotate on to the next. After supper the kids would gather in the pavilion to sing and dance and they crappin' loved it. That's when I'd do the bulk of my holding back tears.
While Brett stayed over in the boy's dorm, I stayed with Kristin in her cabin and because all the beds were full, she cleared out the utility closet and put an air mattress in there and that's were I slept. Folks were jealous of my private room, although it was just long enough for the mattress so I had to stand the mattress upright to open or close the door.
Over in the boys dorm, poop clogged all the drains. There was a flood of some kind and Brett got the last available bunk in the counselor's room. A bottom bunk near the door.
After the campers and counselors made it to "lights out", silence rained down on the camp. All of the adults (volunteers and camp organizers) stayed up late talking and snacking. Brett and Landon drove off into the night in a golf cart, giggling and making heaps of noice. Us gals gathered around a single lantern under a tree centered between four of the cabins and we shared junk food and camper stories. One camper had shared a list of naughty secret meanings for texting emoji's and it had us screaming with laughter. While we were chatting, I noticed a silhouette up against the window next to the door of one of the cabins. We were being watched. Sitting in the near-dark in the woods, a thing like that will send a shiver up your spine.
"Y'all," I said, "Who's standing there in the darkness plotting an attack?"
All the women look up at once, saw the silhouette, and went back to their snacks.
"That's Roz. He tries to escape most nights." No one was concerned about Roz and they carried on chatting. Meanwhile Roz had quietly opened the door to the cabin and was oozing out as slowly as you've ever seen a human move. He started with one foot, then a knee...
"Y'all," I said, "I think Roz is going to make a run for it."
One girl shouted "Roz! You better go get back in your bed!" and he popped back through the door so fast and went back to being a silhouette in a white t-shirt against a dark window.
"Won't he just wait for us to go to bed? What happens when he gets out?" I asked.
"Oh he'll hide somewhere." they said casually. "Usually in the woods."
"This doesn't worry you?" I asked, feeling a weighty amount of concern for this child who may just disappear into the woods while he's at camp. "You know, this is the kind of thing we see on the news about Mississippi."
"Nah. We always find him. One year Jonah slept outside up against the door so he couldn't get out."
I looked over and the right half of Roz's body was outside the door again.
"Roz!" someone shouted and stood up and Roz disappeared back into his cabin. I worried about Roz all night.
Over in the boy's dorm, as Brett settled into his bunk, the counselor in the top bunk hung his head over the side and said, "You wonder why that bed was still open and a short guy like me would pick the top bunk?"
Turns out, people frequently wake up in the middle of the night to find Kirby, a small, black guy that's usually scowling, crouched on the end of their bed, just staring at them while they sleep.
How do you like Brett's country-rock star head-dress?
Meanwhile in the Gulf, a storm was brewing. We got news of Tropical Storm Barry the day we arrived and it seemed probable that camp would be closed early. Waiting for this final call was driving Kristin crazy. She'd get teary eyed when she thought about it and then shake off her feelings and bound off towards the kids and their activities. I got to spend lots of time with Kristin. She mostly told me heaps of unfortunate stories about people she knows and she somehow managed to do it cheerfully and without ruining your outlook on life. We rode around McComb running errands and I learned about who cheated on who, and who moved away, and how someone died, and why he's a hermit, etc. It was riveting. Brett calculated that we must have heard approximately 80 stories in two days and most of them had endings where all you can do is grunt and say "Gosh."
Kristin was so bubbly and chatty and she noticed how dingy Brett and my wedding rings looked so she made us fork them over to be cleaned. She's the magician that made my engagement ring (her family owns a jewelry shop) so she sent us home with ring cleaner and the shiniest rings we've ever gotten to wear.
The very next day, we woke up to overcast skies and a solid breeze rustling the tips of those tall tall pines. The outlook seemed grim. The campers carried on in their happy routines and the adults watched the weather radars and worried about breaking all the campers hearts. Brett and I never did go over to man the game tent. We sat out on the lake, watched the morning singers, snacked on goodies, and one time after he'd been gone awhile, I walked over to the boys dorm and found Brett and Landon playing a concert for themselves in the counselors bunk room. Landon clawed his banjo while Brett strummed the guitar. They played and sang an assortment of Avett Brothers tunes and then Landon sang our first dance song and it made me well up. I had some real tear troubles on this trip. I couldn't get enough of the private concert and they only stopped because Brett's fingers finally gave out. Landon and I were very disappointed.
After lunch we got the call. The park was closing up. We divvied up all the camper applications and spent an hour calling parents to come pick up their kids by suppertime. Then Kristin had to break the news to the campers and their wails of sadness made me well up again. Crappin' tears. Packing up and abandoning camp took about four hours. Brett and I were sent to the entrance to give the parents directions to the right dorms and more importantly, stop every car leaving to make sure they had they hadn't kidnapped a child. Isn't that delightful? We stopped every car for three hours and got goodbye hugs from campers through the windows.
"See you next year!" they all would say, waving both hands with giant smiles on their faces. I still have so much to tell you about from our two days at camp. There were so many great, funny kids and volunteers. I don't suppose I've been around that many selfless people at once ever before.
That's really something. Crappin' tears.
We sent off the last camper around 7:30pm, loaded up our stuff and followed Landon to the grocery store. Watching Landon grocery shop remains a very interesting and comfortable study of his kind. He was focused and intentional while also whimsical and spontaneous.
"Eisenhauer!" he'd bark, "Go pick out a cheese to snack on." He'd say this while reading the back of some packaging and adding extra ingredients to his mental list. He wheeled his cart through the store tossing items in while reaching over for another. I followed him down each aisle and watched him intently. He'd pick up a brisket, roll it over in his hands and put it back. He did this until he found the right one. He also bought two racks of ribs and some sausage and an extremely large bag of cheese.
He was preparing a feast. Brett would arrive with a cheese a in tow and then Landon would send him off for tomatoes. I'm not sure if Landon ever looked at anything besides the groceries. Was he aware there were other people in the store? He was not there to observe. He was there to gather. Brett brought back a tomato that was not up to Landon's standards. "Eisenhauer, you did a bad job."
I found Landon fascinating.
We followed Landon to Kristin' parent's lake house where we had steaks and potatoes and fell asleep as soon as we laid down. The family was preparing for a Hurricane Party Weekend (which is why Landon bought so much meat) and other friends and camp volunteers came in and out of the house in the short time we were there. Brett and I slept down in the basement and woke up to beignets and coffee and all the neighborhood dogs gathered on the porch for some reason and also, a really beautiful sunny morning.
"Don't think about it!" I told Kristin as we looked out at the lake. She was so upset about having canceled camp. She took me down to the dock and we fed the fish and talked about life and I felt like Kristin and I have been great buddies for ages. Landon and Kristin are just comfortable people to be around and I wish we all lived closer.
Instead of hunkering down for the weekend (and possibly getting trapped in by floods .... maybe) Brett made the spontaneous decision to drive up to Oxford and visit Ole Miss. I called Aunt Dene who excitedly had a bed made for us within minutes. "Y'all are staying with us right?"
Phase Three of our adventure involved a tour of campus and some family time. Brett drove me through Ole Miss by each year of schooling. I saw his freshman dorm and the paths to those first year classes, then sophomore, then the frat house he lived in, and then his off campus apartments. I saw The Grove and the football stadium and the book store he loved and the restaurant balcony he was sitting on when he realized he was hanging with a bunch of racist jerks so he got up and walked out on those guys and went back to playing video games with Bobby Morgan.
Brett got awfully quiet and nostalgic and said he wanted to do it all over again.
We pulled into aunt Dene's driveway about 6:00 and she hustled us into the house in that bustling hospitable, nearly frantic way that each of Mitch and Sadie Union's children do. "Are you thirsty? Hungry? You need anything? I can go catch a few crabs and cook 'em up if you want a snack? Are you sure? How about you Brett? You hungry?"
It took a minute to settle Dene down and we caught up with Josh who was on the way to hang out with some friends.
Brett and I wound up crashing Dene and Michael's Friday night dinner plans with friends. We met and ate with two couples they hang out with a lot and it was a real experience in "good ol' boy Mississippi." Brett said it complimented his nostalgia nicely. "Been a while since I hung out with those guys."
Little cousin Maryana was home when we got back and she's a grown up, beautiful person and it really confused me. She was just 10 years old, right? We stayed up talking a little while and after being harassed by the family dog, Brett and I sacked out.
By morning the tropical storm had made it's way to town so we got on the road straight away to try to get in front of the rain, but as we were leaving Brett insisted on having breakfast at an old favorite spot and there was a 20 minute wait but Brett said it was worth it. I imagined driving through torrential rain and dangerous winds just so he could have an omelette. Turns out he was right and I will never forget the wonder of the breakfast.
We drove all 11 hours back to Charleston that day and other than being totally exhausted, we had a great time in the car. We laughed and talked and started a book on tape that was SO good but we got home before it ended and now we can't figure out how we can both listen to it before we have to return it to the library.
I loved our Mississippi adventure. I loved all the phone-free time and story telling and spontaneous days. I loved all of Brett's friends. Those were some solid people and now I keep thinking about how unfortunate it is that Brett never gets to see them. Those are the shiny, meaty kinds of folks that fill your little world with hope and courage and the well-meaning putdowns that keep you real.
I can't say I expected to find all of that in Mississippi.
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