The first time I saw Camp Jabberwocky to know what it was, it looked just like what you will see sometime after five o'clock this afternoon, probably about halfway through the parade - the dark red bus growling and coughing its way around a distant corner in Edgartown; in front of it, leading the way, the lanky kids with long hair and painted faces skipping, dancing, blowing whistles, banging drums and pushing other kids in wheelchairs. It was probably around 1968 or 1969 when the idea of what Jabberwocky first began to register with me.