At Jabberwocky's Celebration, Human Spirit Is Triumphant

By C.K. WOLFSON

The Tabernacle was filled Saturday night. There were speeches and
music and a printed program, "David Crohan and Friends,
Celebrating 50 Years of Jabberwocky," with pictures and names.
Simple.

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But simple had nothing to do with it.

Maybe that's one of the things that makes Camp Jabberwocky so
extraordinary; everything is more than it seems. No smile, whether quick
or extended, is casual, but instead serves as an indicator light
signaling exuberance and joy. Results, however ambitious, are always
less important than the effort it takes to produce them. And the people
with cerebral palsy, some of whom have knotted bodies, some who cannot
speak or walk, still soar.

It felt as if most of the audience attending the jubilee concert had
some proprietary insight into what to a casual attendee might at first
seem yet another eccentric Vineyard activity. People ambled down the
aisles, many pausing to greet and be greeted, to shine their smiles and
exchange full-body hugs.

Even the orange-shirted ushers were impassioned, longtime volunteers
like Susan Halby, whose sons Will and Peter, both counselors, drew her
family into the fold - "It's just one of those
places," she shrugged - along with a smiling Elaine Klein,
who has served for three years as president of the board of directors of
Jabberwocky, and whose daughter, Emily, has been a counselor for 15
years.

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Referring to the evening's program - coordinated and
directed by Jean Kelso - Mrs. Klein explained, "We really
could have gotten famous names and we chose not to. We only wanted
people to perform and be part of this who love camp, who have been a
part of camp for all these years. It won't be as polished as other
performances, but it's camp. And we love doing it. And
there's such joy."

Ellen Simonson, who sat at a table on the rim of the Tabernacle
selling Jabberwocky T-shirts and mugs, is the mother of Ronnie, a camper
for the past 40 years. She laughingly recalled telling her son she was
planning to remarry a man (now her husband) from New Hampshire. His
emphatic response was that, although he approved of the marriage, he
wouldn't give his consent unless the promise was made that, no
matter where they lived, he would always spend summers at Jabberwocky.

The campers not sitting on stage in the Jabberwocky chorus filled
the front rows and acted as ambassadors. They welcomed the people
milling around them, shook hands, flashed smiles so bright they had a
physical impact, the sensation of being touched.

And at the center sat the legendary Larry Perry, a camper for every
one of the 50 years of Jabberwocky's existence, with a smile so
broad his face could barely catch up with it.

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Dr. Tim Johnson, medical director for ABC News and father of
six-year camp counselor Kiplee, began his duties as the evening's
master of ceremonies. He cautioned people to be prepared to be flexible,
and to expect some changes in the program listing - after all,
this was a Jabberwocky celebration. Heads nodded in happy recognition.

First-year counselor Blake Lichterman sounded a ram's horn in
a biblically inspired, official heralding of the 50th year since Helen
Lamb first imagined and founded the camp.

Dr. Johnson recounted being summoned by his daughter for his first
trip to watch a program at camp. "I expected it would be
boring," he laughingly confessed, then described how inspired he
was.

Special mention was made of the extraordinary work and dedication of
Mrs. Lamb's children, John Lamb, director of August camp, and
Gillian Butchman, director of July camp, who continue to make the camp
possible.

Ursula Dittami Leahy, "the first counselor," who arrived
from New Bedford for the first year when she was only 15 years old,
shared her recollections. "The whole concept was a sense of
adventure and fun," she declared, recalling the night hailstones
pierced the roof of the camp's lodgings and the children had to be
lifted out of their beds and carried downstairs. She described getting
wheelchairs in and out of sailboats and up and down the steps to the Oak
Bluffs beaches.

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It was a tribute to Hellcat Lamb's fierce determination and
her refusal to accept the word "can't," or the concept
of "impossible." She repeated Mrs. Lamb's mantra:
"There is a way. Find it."

The evening was especially poignant for Island favorite David
Crohan. It marked his final appearance as a Vineyard resident. Mr.
Crohan, a longtime supporter in all things Jabberwocky, has left to
become the resident pianist at Cafe L'Europe in South Palm Beach,
Fla. Between his musical offerings, he shared memories -
"One of the most rewarding relationships of my life" -
and spoke about his friendships with campers.

When camper Sean Wawrzaszek's thoughts on the Jabberwocky were
recited by Ben Cavanagh, they were met with loud approval.

Jeremy Vest played drum solos with confidence and style, joining
Rick Bausman and a group of Jabberwocky drummers who shook the house as
they drummed a Nigerian chant and the Jabberwocky Samba. Mr. Bausman
also partnered with Skipper Brook in a demonstration of drumming skill.

As with everything the campers and their counselors did, the
audience's delight was matched and heightened by their own, in
unselfconscious display. Performers hugged and congratulated each other
as applause rolled through the Tabernacle.

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It was an evening of favorites all around. Jabberwocky's
revered 89-year-old founder, Mrs. Lamb, recited Lewis Carroll's
poem, Jabberwocky, with dramatic flair. Patricia Neal lent dramatic
interpretation to the lyrics of September Song and Send in the Clowns as
Mr. Crohan played the melody.

By the time the Jabberwocky Chorus performed, enthusiasm had spread
through the hall like a giddy virus.

Accompanied on trumpet by Island native Ed Rodgers, retired from the
Navy Band, the voices brought the crowd to its feet, hooting and
applauding after a version of Amazing Grace and How Great Thou Art,
featuring Ronnie Simonson as soloist.

Mr. Simonson stood center stage, singing out each word with fervor,
gesturing, holding notes in full voice and clearly having a wonderful
time doing it. And again, the crowd went wild. Yes, Mr. Simonson agreed,
giving a two-handed thumbs-up sign.

Said Mr. Crohan, "I'll never hear that song again
without thinking of Ronnie."

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Other soloists had the same effect. Faith Carter and Kenneth Taylor
lent rousing solo voices to the chorus's rendition of Country
Roads. Miss Carter's clear, compelling voice performed I Believe
in Love from the Broadway musical Hair. Leslie Ellen Moore and Beth
Ainsworth's spirited solos brought the crowd to its feet in more
of the evening's many standing ovations.

The evening ended with a customized version of I'll Be Seeing
You, by Mr. Crohan ("I'll be living in Palm Beach, but
I'll remember you"); a sing-along of God Bless America, and
finally, Joy to the World, which brought people to their feet in the
aisles and on the stage, erupting into dance.

When it was all over, people seemed reluctant to leave the
Tabernacle, strolling with their arms around each other's
shoulders, smiling those incandescent Jabberwocky smiles.