It’s Monday morning, and Troy Cyphers is running across a lawn flapping his arms and pretending to be a turkey. If the enormous white building behind him were still a hospital, he might be committed.
But the building with three porches, two balconies and a commanding view from the hilltop over the Lagoon to the outer Vineyard Haven harbor is a summer camp, and Mr. Cyphers, freshly graduated from college, is the camp’s co-director. Behind him, in hot pursuit, is a pack of screaming six-year-olds.