[Congressional Record Volume 143, Number 130 (Thursday, September 25, 1997)]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Pages E1869-E1870]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




                             HELPING OTHERS

                                 ______
                                 

                            HON. MAC COLLINS

                               of georgia

                    in the house of representatives

                      Thursday, September 25, 1997

  Mr. COLLINS. Mr. Speaker, quite often as Members of this House, we 
need to take a moment to step back and look into the hearts of our 
communities. There, sitting on the steps of our schoolhouses and 
talking on our parkbenches are individuals working to help their 
neighbors in need. Such folk can be found in all parts of the country, 
and today I wish to honor a group of individuals who dedicate their 
lives to making others happy in Hattiesburg, MS. For it is there that 
the Civitan Camp for Citizens with Mental Retardation makes uncommon 
acts of kindness everyday occurrences.
  Mrs. Abbie Rogers, director of the camp for more than 37 years, began 
working with handicapped children many years ago. She had a dream of 
providing the benefits of group recreation, crafts, friendships, and 
all the fun a camp can provide to these individuals who overcome 
adversity with tremendous human spirit and strength of heart. With the 
generous support of the Hattiesburg Civitan Club and the Iti Kana Girl 
Scout Camp, Mrs. Rogers' dream is now a reality for many children.
  Her volunteers range from teenagers to business people and include 
doctors, nurses, musicians, craftsmen, and artists. These individuals 
give of their time and energy, yet benefit just as much as the campers 
in terms of the experiences they treasure for the rest of their lives. 
My daughter April has volunteered for many years beginning in high 
school. I believe that her experiences at the Civitan Camp truly 
epitomize the beauty of this magical place. The following is one such 
recollection.

       Flashlight . . . check, raincoat . . . check, junk food . . 
     . check. Definitely junk food, camp meals are always the 
     pits. I am so excited I can hardly pack. OK, show down, 
     April, or you're going to forget something important like 
     your toothbrush.
       Bright and early tomorrow morning I'll be ``on the road 
     again.''
       For two glorious weeks, I'll be roughing it in the great 
     outdoors. Camp doesn't officially open until Monday, but 
     counselors have to suffer through the long, boring 
     orientation. You know, the stuff you already know, and if you 
     didn't you wouldn't be here, right?
       As I sit eagerly waiting to discover who my wild camper 
     will be for this session, I try to catch up on all the missed 
     time with my Mississippi friends. ``April Collins,'' Becky 
     shouts clearly over the loud rumble in the small room. She is 
     the camp director's right leg.

[[Page E1870]]

       ``Here,'' I reply half worried and half relieved that I am 
     at the beginning of the alphabet. I met Becky nervously 
     midway across the room and receive the personal file on my 
     mysterious camper.
       Aha! I got a baby. The 14-month-old girl is blue-eyed 
     Alicia Bounds. Oh, my goodness, I am certainly going to get a 
     workout; she is 30 heavy pounds and can't walk. As I quickly 
     and anxiously scan the rest of her file, I learn she is 
     blind, 90 percent deaf, has no muscle control, and has a lot 
     of other complications. It seems as if the list of 
     disabilities goes on forever. I fear I am going to have a 
     very challenging week.
       But I can handle it. Last year I had a 9-year-old boy who 
     had to be fed through tubes in his stomach. I'll never forget 
     the night I was feeding him supper and his tubes eased out. 
     The doctor had to insert the tubes back in, which wasn't the 
     most pleasant procedure to witness.
       It's about time Monday got here! I am on pins and needles 
     with 50 other psyched counselors waiting for our campers to 
     arrive. The moment I saw Alicia, my heart went out to her. 
     Her eyes are bluer than blue, and her cute chubby cheeks are 
     perfect for a Grandmother to pinch. Now my job begins. I am 
     her so-called mother for a week. I bathe her, feed her, 
     change her, comfort her, take her to arts and crafts, 
     swimming, fishing, canoeing, music, and leisure. Alicia and I 
     are going to be the best of pals for seven days. I can tell 
     her parents are ready for a vacation, because her dad is 
     giving signals to his wife to hurry up. I try to imagine the 
     pain they have been through.
       Alicia used to be the everyday normal child, until three 
     months of age when she was diagnosed with having spinal 
     meningitis. After all the treatment and medication, this is 
     what has become of Alicia. She almost died during her 
     illness, and sometimes even I wonder if it would have been 
     better if she had.
       First on ``our'' agenda was to take Alicia on a tour of the 
     camp, ending with a dip in the pool. My ears are still 
     ringing from her temper tantrum. I guess I would have been 
     pretty scared too, if I were blind. But by the end of the 
     week, she enjoyed cooling off in the water. Alicia absolutely 
     adored the outdoors. We'd stay outside from dawn to dusk. She 
     quickly soaked up a savage tan.
       Oh, and how Alicia loved to be rocked. I pampered her as 
     though she was my first born. Sure I got frustrated at times, 
     as when she would cry for almost an hour straight. But I drew 
     in three big breaths and counted to 10 very slowly.
       Alicia learned to sense my nearness to her. She would 
     become upset when she felt my absence. I was one of the few 
     who could comfort her. I can still picture her first and only 
     smile. I don't recall what I did, but I had tried so hard all 
     week to change her facial expression. And finally, a little 
     smile.
       We had a ball that week. Alicia was certainly a handful. I 
     feel for her parents; I only had seven days of it. They have 
     it the other 358 days.
       Each year I have a feeling of accomplishment. But this past 
     year I believe was the most challenging and rewarding. The 
     fact that I could communicate and show my affection to her 
     successfully has been my most satisfying experience.

  Mr. Speaker, as the long hours of our days pass by at a blistering 
pace often leaving us with a sense of being totally overwhelmed, we 
need only take a moment to look at individuals such as Abbie Rogers or 
my daughter April, to put things in perspective and think in terms of 
what really is important--helping others. This can be done in many and 
varied ways, but I hope that at the end of the day, we in Congress 
share the sense of accomplishment that our efforts, though on a broader 
scale, are rooted in the very same goal, which is to help and serve the 
American people.

                          ____________________