I’ve told my family that if I’m ever missing, can’t take the real world, think I need to drive away, they will find me at Rocky River Ranch. I’m now 41 years old, a mother of two and every time I turn down Flite Acres Road it is like going home and it makes me cry because I am so happy to be there. I had seven glorious summers at camp and I cherish every memory I carry with me.

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.

Rocky River Ranch is like my second home. It is such a comfortable, fun place to be! I am planning to be here as long as possible, and want my future daughters and granddaughters to experience this camp. Rocky River has a special place in my heart, and is a big part of my life.

I would not be the person I have become today if it were not for Skeet and Sandy. One of the biggest lessons I ever learned in life was from Sandy — I fell off a horse and Sandy made me get right back on. I had no idea what impact that lesson would mean to my life, but I have to say it has become one of the most valuable.

We still can't believe it has been 50 years since my mother, Mama Knolk, started RRR. We are so proud that it is still the same as she built it and still has the same spirit upon which it was founded. Our children and grandchildren have had the wonderful opportunity to attend camp and we all can still sing some of the songs when we get together. May the spirit of Mama Knolk stay with all that have attended RRR.

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.