TESTIMONIALS

Comments from campers, counselors and others
Letters from parents

Comments from campers, counselors and others.

THE BEST CAMP EVER!
By Iberia

Miranda!  I called to my friend as she pulled into the parking lot of MDA summer camp.  MDA camp is for people who have muscular dystrophy.  Kids with MD can spend a week at camp.

Friends are just one of the highlights of MDA camp.  We also have fun doing lots of activities.  Hope is what people are trying to tell you at camp.  This is the best camp that has ever been invented.

You will meet the right people to be your friends at camp.  I met my best friends Miranda and Katie.  My counselor also became a special friend.  Miranda was the first person, besides my sister and my mom, who I met that has the same type of muscular dystrophy as I have.  Katie, my other best friend, has a different type of muscle disease.  At camp, each person has their own individual counselor.  My counselor played volleyball with a big blow-up ball.

We do not only play with friends; we have fun in other ways.  We play wheelchair soccer.  The people in wheelchairs get to throw the ball and the people on the ground have to kick it.  If the people on the ground touch it they go into the penalty box.  We also get to go swimming in the pool.  The deepest part is nine feet deep.  We go llama riding.  We also play “Military Hide & Seek.”  People from the military come to camp and hide, and we have to find them.  We also have dance night.  We get all decked out and dance.

Hope is last, but the most important highlight of camp.  It teaches you that you can have fun even though you have MD.  It also teaches you that the world is not coming to an end.  There is always a chance in life.  Having MD is not the end of life, fun and friendship.

In short, my friends had beaming smiles.  My counselor had a radiant one.  The victuals were good.  MDA camp is the best.  I sometimes like to re-collect the details.  I am determined to go again.

Iberia was 13 years old when this article was written in 2007. She has myotonic muscular dystrophy and lives in  San Diego. She attended MDA summer camp at Camp Cuyamaca, Descanso, Calif.

Clayton Road

A Nebraska Teen Relives the
Dust and Excitement of Arriving at Camp

by Khrystyna Serednytsky

We've been driving for hours. It's hot, I'm thirsty and my brother is getting on my last nerve. Every 10 minutes it's "Are we there yet?" or "When are we gonna get there?" or "I'm never doing this again!" The only thing that keeps me from yelling at him is the fact that in less than an hour, I'll be at MDA summer camp and will say bye to him for a week.

As everyone is about to lose patience, we see a sign that says "Clayton Road." According to the atlas, this is where we turn off the long monotonous highway onto a narrow, one-lane gravel road. My parents, tired from the four-hour trip, are overjoyed. And me, well, I'm just excited that there is such a road as Clayton Road!

As we turn off the highway, the smooth, almost gliding feeling of the freeway turns into a jerky ride that makes you feel as if your insides are shaking. No other cars are in front of or behind us, so we can go fast.

This is a mistake because, not knowing that the road was so dusty, we create a cloud of dirt and sand. Frantically we roll up all the windows before the suffocating mist gets into our van. My dad slows down, seeing the commotion his speeding has caused. The gigantic cloud is left as a barrier for others to cross.

Now that we're going slower, we're able to notice some of the scenery. As on any Nebraska road outside of a city, all we can see are fields, cornfields mostly. They stand like armies, all in neat individual rows and columns. In the patches of fields where there's only grass, some cows are lazily eating. I can imagine how hot they must be as the late summer sun beats down on them.

The road starts to get very steep. As we go higher and higher, the gravel road comes out onto a brown, dried-up hilltop. Suddenly I remember something I had read about the camp. It is the highest point in the state of Nebraska. There are no trees on this barren hill and it lies exposed and unprotected to the ever-burning summer sun. All around us we see identical hills.

The road sinks into a valley and then becomes flat again. Trees start to appear, then houses, and then what I have been anticipating for a long time, a big wooden sign that reads "Camp Comeca."

We travel for a few minutes through forested land until an opening appears. The scene reminds me of a Wild West movie with a wide, gravel-covered space, surrounded by plain buildings. Vans with handicapped stickers on their bumpers are everywhere. Moms and dads carry suitcases and other necessities, while kids and young adults zoom around in wheelchairs or talk to friends from previous years.

My dad, anxious to get out of our steaming van, drives up to a young woman in a green shirt that says "Staff." "Excuse me, do you know where registration is?" he asks as rivers of sweat run down his face.

The young girl points to a large building with three patios. "MDA registration is over there," she says.

We drive up to the building and get out of the van, all of us happy to be breathing fresh air again. As we walk closer to the registration building, I begin to see some familiar faces and some not-so-familiar ones. We reach the door to the building and step into a refreshing, air-conditioned room. It's large with gigantic ceiling fans hanging overhead.

A short Hispanic girl rushes to meet us. "You must be Khrystyna!" she says with a smile. "I'm Tia, I'll be your counselor this week."

"It's nice to meet you," I say. After registration, Tia takes my mom and me to my cabin. The cabin is a small, whitewashed brick building with a sign that says "Hilton" on it. The name strikes me funny because as I go in, I'm surprised by the smallness of it. Two bunk beds stand on either side of the door, with two tiny separate rooms on both sides and a second wing for the younger girls.

My dad is already there with all my bags. My old sheets from when I was my brother's age are already on the bed that was assigned to me. I'm shocked to find out there's a separate building for the bathroom, and realize there will be some cold morning walks.

After we get unpacked, we walk my family back to our van. The Wild West scene has turned into a lush garden, with a wide arrangement of flowers and trees, concrete paths and well-kept lawns. As we reach the parking lot, we notice something we hadn't seen yet, a beautiful lake that seems to go on forever and glitters in the late afternoon sunlight.

As I give my parents one more hug, I know that I will have a wonderful week at this beautiful camp.

I smile as I watch my parents drive off. Yes, I'll miss them, but from that moment on I'm free. Free to have fun, free to stay up past midnight, free to act crazy, and most of all, free to be myself without worrying about being different. I've waited for this week all year.

"Dinner is in five minutes. Are you ready to go?" Tia asks, the nervousness of being a first-year counselor still evident in her voice. I know she'll be OK, though. They always are.

"Of course!" I say happily.

The best week of the year has begun.

Khrystyna Serednytsky, 17 in 2004 when this article was written, lives in Omaha, Neb. She has congenital myopathy. The Omaha MDA Summer Camp moved to Camp Comeca in 2004.

A Road to Self Discovery

I was 8 years old.  I was absolutely terrified but undoubtedly excited.  My parents and I had traveled three-and-a-half hours to a foreign place called Ashley, Ohio, to a road called North Galena Road.  Apparently there was a fantastic campground here called Recreation Unlimited.  Little did I know that it truly was unlimited. 

Danielle, Colleen and Me

Like any other 8-year-old, I was scared and hesitant.  But then a young woman came running up to me with bright eyes and a lively smile.  Her name was Annette and she assured me I would have a wonderful time.  Though still uncertain, my growling stomach quickly persuaded me to acclimate and have dinner.  Sure enough, Annette was a bundle of energy and made everything feel like home.

I was very shy that first year and the second year.  But by my third year, I was a veteran.  I’m now 15 and have gone to MDA summer camp in Ashley every June since I was 8.  In April of 2003 I had to have scoliosis surgery.  The recovery period was predicted to last for weeks in the hospital and at least a month in bed, if I was lucky.  Of course this would have conflicted with camp, which was not a choice.  Did I stay home? No. I went, even though I was still recovering, and had a wonderful time. 

Through the years I have had four different counselors and two different camp directors.  I have watched friends leave and return and then leave again.  I’ve seen friends grow out of camp and grow into it.  But no matter what, there has always been Danielle.  She is four days younger than me and lives three hours away.  We are complete opposites but are attached at the hip.  Anyone who knows us can tell you that we are never apart at camp.

My years at camp are limited now since I anticipate going to college early and possibly far away.  But I will definitely cherish the memories I have and appreciate every moment I have left.  Little did I know that the oddly named North Galena Road was more than a road to camp.  It was a path to another aspect of myself that I never would have discovered otherwise.


Hannah Widdifield, 15 in 2006 when this article was written, lives in Proctorville, Ohio.
She has limb-girdle muscular dystrophy. 

"I like the independence that camp gives me, and I love being with my camp friends."
-- MDA camper

"You may say goodbye, but no matter where you go ... what you do ... you'll always remember your time at MDA Summer Camp."
-- Counselor

"MDA camp is better than Christmas!"
-- MDA camper

"After our trip to MDA camp, we feel different. To the kids at camp we're heroes, but to us the kids are heroes."
-- Rick Skauge, Kettle Moraine Harley Owners Group, New Berlin, Wis.

"This is a chance for us to be the majority instead of the minority."
-- MDA camper

"Being a counselor has changed my life. We give so little of ourselves, but get so much in return."
-- Counselor

"The hardest part is leaving."
-- Counselor

"Seeing the challenges these kids face every day makes me realize how insignificant most of my problems are."
-- Greg Winnett, Assistant Vice President, Community Relations, Service Merchandise Co. Inc.

"The camaraderie, friendships and memories will follow me through the rest of my life."
-- Counselor

Camp is just around the corner and I absolutely can't wait!!! I dream about it all the time and when I'm awake that's all I think about. I believe that's how everybody is when they have to leave camp. They wait all year to go back!!! I just can't get enough of the kids!
-- Shelley, Counselor, Camp Bethany, Bethany, La.

I have just completed my first MDA Summer Camp at Camp Cheerful in Strongsville, Ohio. I have recently retired from the Euclid, Ohio, Fire Department after serving for 27 years. I can honestly say that the camp experience was the most rewarding thing that I have done in my life! After serving in the Navy and the Fire Department, I have found a cause that needs us all. The emotions and wonderful memories from my first camp will carry me through the year till the next camp. I will be speaking to groups of fire fighters in the northern Ohio area in the upcoming weeks and I will tell them in the best way that I can of the experiences I encountered. I have found a retirement love affair!! Thank You
-- Jim S., Euclid, Ohio


Growing up I looked forward every year to going to MDA Summer Camp so when we received packets in 2001 for two of my kids, who inherited my Charcot-Marie-Tooth, I was thrilled. Kyle did not want to go, he was 13 and had been to other camps and had not had a good time. I assured him that this camp was very different and he would enjoy it. Brittany was apprehensive, she was 8 and had never been away from home before. Both came home talking about next year.

In October of 2001 when the wildfires hit here in San Diego and we had heard that the Cuyamaca's had been destroyed the kids were broken hearted about camp. I assured the kids that MDA would find another place to hold summer camp and let them know that as beautiful as Camp Cuyamaca is, camp is really about the people. They understood, but a few days later we were overjoyed to here that Camp Cuyamaca had survived. The fire had burned only one building and had otherwise burned around the camp.

We want to thank MDA for making camp possible and so great. Thank you firefighters for raising money and thank you to those who donate and thank you to the military for volunteering to be counselors. I think my son summed it up Sunday morning after returning home from camp "Only 300 and 50 odd days until we get to go back to camp". I think that says it all.
-- Kimberly H., El Cajon, Calif.

Though it has been over twenty years for me, some of my greatest memories came from the MDA summer camps. I have Becker  muscular dystrophy.  I always looked forward to camp and was sad to have to leave camp. The magic that these camps packed into a week was worth a year. I will never forget some of the patients like Joe Cool, Mike, Wesley, Joey, Amy, and Allison. I will never forget the dances, the games, or the volunteers. Mostly, I will never forget camp because it was not as much an escape as a destination. I am a much better man for learning from the other kids about how to cope with my disease. Camp was also a stellar example of compassion and kindness. Thank you MDA.
--  William J. Armstrong  Amarillo, Texas

It started back in 1987. I was 16 years old. I volunteered for my very first summer camp. That first day I was very scared, but by the end of the week I knew I wanted to come back. Most people think of summer camp and come up with swimming or canoeing. Well, we do exactly the same thing. But we also dance, play hockey or whiffle ball and ride horses. Last year the camp added a zip line. I don't know what the campers thought about it but I do know how I felt. Wow what a ride!!

It's 18 years later and I'm now 35 years old. I can't wait till next summer. The week goes by so fast. We meet such interesting people.  Someone once said that when the campers come to camp we don't see the wheelchairs or the braces. They are just someone who likes to have fun.   I plan on volunteering for several more years to come.
-- Candy Horath, volunteer, Timber Pointe Outdoor Center, MDA Summer Camp "i CAMP", Hudson, IL

"There are some people from camp that talk about it on and on all through the year, 'til they get to go again. If it weren't for camp I wouldn't have a whole lot of good times to think back on. It was fun to
be amongst kids that were going through the same pot holes as I was. Camp was like a great broom that swept your fears away for a while."

-- Caryn Schneider, Sweet Home,OR. MDA camper 1991-99

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Letters from Parents

Camp is a Family Affair

I can't tell you in words how much the MDA summer camp means to my family. I have four beautiful daughters ages 16, 15, 7 and 3. All of them have the same neuromuscular disease, just different stages. My 15-year-old has been going to camp for about six years, the 16-year-old about five years, and this was the first year for my 7-year-old. What a blast they have every year. They look forward to going every year. The relationships that they build and friends they make are for a lifetime. None of my girls are in a wheelchair, but others with the same disease are. It really helps them put into perspective how fortunate they really are. My girls want to go to summer camp until they are too old to go. I can't thank MDA enough for all of the wonderful memories they have given my girls.

Lisa Parks, Yuba City, Calif., 2007

A Mom's Memories

In the winter of 1995 MDA sent my daughter, Allyson, a notice about summer camp. When she arrived home from school, she opened it and exclaimed, "Mom, Mom, it's camp! Can I go? Can I go?"

I read the letter only to realize that it was overnight camp for a week. Allyson, then 7, didn't see any problem. She said she would write to me if that was my problem.

Of course, I had questions, and the next day I called the MDA office to ask about them. Where was this Mass. Hospital School where the camp would be held? Who was in charge? What was their experience? How many adults to campers were there? I had my whole "protective mother" list. After talking to the director at the school itself and seeing a short tape from camp the year before I decided to allow Allyson to go.

The week was a long time for me, in that I missed her much more than I had anticipated, but it was also a break that I had never had. When the week was over, I couldn't seem to get there quickly enough. All the way home she talked nonstop about her new friends and experiences.

I realized that for the first time in her life, Allyson had been someplace where the only reason not to participate was one of her own personal choice and not because of inaccessibility or her disability. Allyson came home to us even more self-assured than before and with a new excitement about life and living. Once more I realized that my true hopes and dreams hadn't gone anywhere: I was seeing them before my eyes.

Allyson intends on going to MDA summer camp until she is too old.

Lina DuPont
Camp Florian, Canton, Mass., 1995


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Send MDA Your Testimonial

If you're a camper, parent, counselor or sponsor and would like to add a testimonial to this page, e-mail: publications@mdausa.org or mail it to: MDA Publications, Summer Camp Web Testimonial, 3300 E. Sunrise Dr., Tucson, AZ 85718. We'd love to hear from you!