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Constable: Suburban camp for kids with disabilities fuels fun

She knew the parents of children with severe disabilities could use a week's respite. She thought the kids might enjoy a break from therapy.

But when developmental pediatrician Dr. Nancy Keck of Prospect Heights launched her Camp SOAR 16 years ago, she couldn't imagine the impact it would have on the young counselors.

“So many of our counselors have gone on to become special-ed teachers,” says Keck, who partnered with registered nurse Ingrid Thompson of Park Ridge to host that first one-week camp in 2000. Two camps that have followed every summer since.

Tara

Hanson was a 15-year-old student at Hersey High School and a friend of Keck's son, Keith, when she agreed to become a Camp SOAR counselor in 2003. Hanson, who was involved with her school's Service Over Self group, thought the camp for children with severe disabilities might be a good fit for her.

“I most enjoyed the programs with kids with special needs. Camp solidified that for sure,” says Hanson, 28, who has spent the last seven years as a special-education teacher at Kirk School in Palatine. She still volunteers every summer as a coordinator at Camp SOAR, which stands for Special Outdoor Adaptive Recreation.

“This level of intensity is exactly what I need,” says Hanson, who lives in Des Plaines. “I like the excitement and the challenge, and figuring it out.”

The kids at Camp SOAR range in age from 7 to 19. Many fall somewhere on the autism spectrum. In addition to cognitive delays, some campers have physical disabilities such as cerebral palsy. Others have Down syndrome. Wheelchairs are common. Some campers have feeding tubes.

“We have a big range,”

  The first Camp SOAR in 2000 featured 19 young campers with disabilities. The inspiration of Dr. Nancy Keck of Prospect Heights, the camp now boasts two weeklong sessions with nearly 60 campers and 90 counselors each week. Brian Hill/bhill@dailyherald.com

Keck says. “Some kids are nonverbal. Some are pretty independent. Some are still in diapers. And we have hitters, biters, spitters.”

Each camper has a one-on-one counselor. Some require two counselors. The first week of camp this July at Wesley Woods Retreat Center on Geneva Lake in Williams Bay, Wisconsin, included 56 campers and 80 to 90 volunteer counselors. The second week saw 55 campers, and the same number of counselors, many of whom volunteer for both weeks.

Starting the camp while she worked at what now is Advocate Lutheran General Hospital, Keck, 60, who also practices at St. Alexius Medical Center in Hoffman Estates, brought Camp SOAR with her when she moved her practice to the nonprofit Children's Research Triangle in Chicago, which helps support the camp.

It costs about $1,000 to feed and house each camper for a week, but parents pay only about 40 percent of that cost, says Keck. The rest of the money comes from grants and fundraising.

“This is a unique, bizarre camp,” Keck says, noting there aren't many other camping options for teenagers in diapers. Even with a full day of training and a senior staff that includes Keck, Thompson and other experts in the field, counselors can feel a tad overwhelmed at first.

In six air-conditioned cabins divided by gender and needs, each camper sleeps on a bottom bunk with his or her counselor on the top bunk. A senior volunteer sleeps on a cot in front of the door in case anyone tries to leave in the middle of the night.

“The first night of camp is pretty hairy, but then we figure it out,” Keck says.

“They (counselors) grow so much,” says camp coordinator Lindsay Bailey, a 37-year-old child-development specialist who now lives and works near Cincinnati, but carves out two weeks of every summer to come back for Camp SOAR. “They admit to us later, 'I wanted to go home that first day,' and I say, 'Me too.'”

She points out a male counselor hanging on the beach with his camper. “Three days ago, I thought this kid wasn't going to last a week, and now he's chatting him (his camper) up about Superman and cyborgs.”

Hanson laughs at the memories from her first camp.

“We focus on the positive, but we

  Counselor Brian Matkovic, left, shares a hug with SOAR camper Sam Floesheirmer. Brian Hill/bhill@dailyherald.com

bond through the negative,” she says, seemingly still marveling that her 15-year-old self changed diapers and cleaned up countless accidents.

“Oh, there are many poop stories,” Keck says. “It seems like the longest week ever, and then, when it is over, they can't wait to get back.”

Campers swim, sing, do arts and crafts and even put on a talent show. There is nothing overtly therapeutic about the camp, but counselors tell stories about unexpected achievements. One girl, who wouldn't let her mother comb her hair, let a counselor put her in braids every day. A boy who had to have his parents brush his teeth suddenly did it by himself.

“Or the kid who only eats a peanut butter and jelly sandwich every day suddenly loves Taco Tuesday,” Bailey says. “It is kind of cool when you stick them in a place where they don't know what to do, and it works.”

Keck remembers one mother's surprise at the changes her troubled son made while being a counselor for a camper with more obvious problems.

“This really turned him around,” Keck remembers the counselor's mother telling her. “He respects people, and he's kind.”

The camp provides “grounding,” says Thompson, 57, a school nurse and coordinator of health services for the Northern Suburban Special Education District. She says she loves to see the interactions between campers and counselors with “those random acts of kindness that happen all day long.”

Parents grow, too.

“I have parents with 15-year-old kids with special needs who have never even gone out for dinner,” Keck says, explaining how it takes some faith for them to leave that child at an overnight camp. “The first year, they call every day. The second year, they go on vacation.”

The families of Keck and Thompson, and other camp leaders, have provided counselors and other help. Keck's daughter, Wendy Wingeard, 26, a former counselor and current camp coordinator, now is a special-education teacher in Washington state. Thompson says she wants to host a reunion for the camp's 20th anniversary.

The camp has Chrisy Schmidt, 43, a child psychologist with the Children's Research Triangle,

  In addition to swimming and games, campers at Camp SOAR get some quieter time to work on their memory books. Brian Hill/bhill@dailyherald.com

working with campers and counselors any time of the day or night. She also is on daily laundry duty. Having seen the ravages of neglect and abuse at times during her professional life, the Deerfield psychologist gets emotional talking about the joys of Camp SOAR.

“To see all these young people who care about humanity, it's very cool,” Schmidt says, dabbing at the tears in her eyes. “It's about lovely people who care.”

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