Wow! I just spent ten amazing weeks at Rocky River. It was a great learning experience. My first job also! I had a wonderful time working with the counselors and the kids. I already miss it! I miss singing camp songs too!

I love Rocky River Ranch. It was a place I could go and feel accepted for the person I was — not the person I was expected to be. When we passed under that arch, the playing field was leveled and I was free to be myself, or even to reinvent myself! If I could ride, if I could swim, if I could do crafts or even if my only talent was spitting watermelon seeds, I was accepted!

My years at Rocky River were some of the most wonderful times in my life. My sister (Laura) and I still spend hours talking about our fun times there. We still remember our days of swimming in the river, riding horses and water skiing. I can't wait until my little girl can experience all the joy and fun I had as a child for herself.

Attending RRR is a tradition in my family — aunts, cousins, sisters, and best friends all have great memories that we still talk about today. I am waiting for the summer that my daughter is old enough to attend and experience the same wonderful times that I had. My memories of summers at RRR are so special to me. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Skeet and Sandy, and all of the staff from every session, for the ten years of summertime bliss!

I loved my counselors, I loved the river, and even learned how to sail on Canyon Lake. I still sing all the old camp songs that we sang every day after lunch to my little girl, who's five, every night before bed. I always end with, 'I love the mountains, I love the rolling hills ...' and then Taps.

I am still amazed and in awe of the subtle and mysterious way that simple activities and experiences weave together to leave an indelible impression of love ... confidence ... appreciation. They seem so simple there in the moment ... the singing of camp songs, Friendship Circle at the end of an evening program, the Cowpoke/Wrangler drawing, saddling a horse for the first time, scooting down the rapids ... but each song, with each tug on the halter rope, with each stroke of the canoe oar, with each ring of "Goodnight, campers!" a new brush of color is being painted on her childhood experience. From those "colors" spring forth amazing women as evidenced by the many remarkable people that now call themselves Rocky River alumni.