UNION, Conn. (WTNH) – The activities at one special summer camp in Union are undoubtedly fun, and also hold important lessons to teach the kids who participate.

“We’re going on a swing kind of thing,” said teenage camp-goer Erina. “It’s really fun, I went on it last year.”

To kids who have been through so much, these lessons teach them to control their life with confidence. This is the overall goal of the Arthur C. Luf Children’s Burn Camp.

“It’s like a second home,” said Erina.

The burn camp was designed for kids aged eight to 18 who have survived life-altering burn injuries.

“The thing I love about burn camp is the supportive people, the fun activities, it’s just a great area, I love it,” said 11-year-old Limar. Limar is learning archery at the camp, alongside volunteer counselor Christopher Brigham, a New Haven firefighter.

“The time we put in here, the joy we get to see in the kids, their chance to let loose, be a kid, disconnect from the rest of the world, it really gives us a sense of pride,” says Brigham.

“All of our staff are volunteer firefighters or in emergency service that literally can lend their experience to the children who, in turn, turn around and lend their experiences to us,” said Dominic Mantuano, the new executive director of the Connecticut Burns Care Foundation.

He is an opera and Broadway singer, and also a 911 responder. He explained that the camp is 100% free for participants.

“Door to door it is free because the foundation through the year raises money so that these kids can come to camp to just be a kid,” said Mantuano.“Sometimes they might be reluctant but when they join in, you see them smiling and are happy to do it – they’re able to accomplish and challenge themselves,” said camp director, Tom Smith.

“You get to express yourself, have fun, and honestly just be yourself. Everyone around here is so kind, no one bullies you, it’s just an awesome place to be,” said Erina.

Whether the kids are creating art or taking on a waterslide, this safe haven is all about building camaraderie. Campers come back year after year, taking home memories of new friends, new skills, and tons of smiles.

There are plans for this incredible camp to grow and reach even more kids around the world.

by Ann Nyberg | May 26, 2022

UNION, Conn. (WTNH) — In Union, Connecticut, there is a camp for children who have survived life-altering burn injuries.

Dominic Mantuano, executive director of the Connecticut Burns Care Foundation, said it all began when Arthur C. Luf and Dr. Panettieri set out in 1978 to establish the state’s one and only burn center at Bridgeport Hospital.

In 1991, Luf realized there was a need for a place for children ages 8-18 who suffered burns, where they could go and just be a kid. So he started the Arthur C. Luf Children’s Burn Camp. Children from all over the world come to it.

“No child is denied and from door to door, there is no money involved,” Mantuano said. “We pay for every child no matter what…door to door, it’s free.”

It is a one week camp every year.

“All types of kids… at first they don’t understand, they don’t know if they want to go, but as soon as they find out that it’s a fraternity of brothers and sisters coming together to just be kids, to go fishing, ropes course, eating, dancing,” Mantuano said. “They soon learn that they’re all about each other, supporting each other, but then most importantly, after the week is over, they go back to their communities and they lead us.”

The camp can hold up to 169 children, but Mantuano said in the next few years he would like to see a little bit more and run three weeks of camp.

“We can do whatever we need to do for whatever amount of children we have. We’ll make it work,” Mantuano said.

They have an upcoming fundraiser on Saturday, a bike ride at the Essex Firehouse that is going to be three stages. It is all about raising money for the camp so kids can continue to enjoy it.

To find out more about the fundraiser, click here. If you are interested in donating, click here.

A more personal note to illustrate what a blessing AngelRide is to the families of the campers.

Moms want to move heaven and earth to make things better for their children, right? By “moms” I mean the ‘village’ it takes to heal a child.

A little background. Our daughter was injured at 7 years old with 3rd and 4th degree burns over 11% of her body leading to 5 surgeries in the first 6 weeks (plus 2 more years down the road), months of PT, pressure garments, tutors, and missed soccer games.

Our ‘village’ included a child therapist with trauma experience, a PT with burn care experience, and a very empathetic school staff. Our family and community were indispensable. The doctors and nurses at the hospitals and outpatient clinics were remarkable. We did everything possible to enlist the help of the most qualified to aid in her emotional and physical recovery…and we found such amazing people!

However, the experience that had the most significant impact on her recovery and life is The Arthur C. Luf Children’s Burn Camp. Kelsey had not known another child who had burn scars until she went to Burn Camp. She met counselors who were burn survivors, firefighters, nurses, and caring adults. They created this loving you-can-do-it, let’s-just-have-fun experience where she was not defined or limited by her scars, she was not different, she did not have to speak about her accident or how she felt…unless she wanted to. They simply provided a Camp where kids who had been through the same type of trauma could just be kids together. She gained emotional strength from that village because they knew firsthand what she was dealing with. Here we were ready to do anything, hire anyone to help her recover and this Camp was just what she needed.

Kelsey was a camper for 11 years. She is now 26 and returns to Camp every summer to be that loving, you-can-do-it, let’s-just-have-fun counselor for the younger campers. In a testimonial she wrote as a teenager, Kelsey shared: “As a kid, Burn Camp was the only place I was free from uncomfortable questions, staring strangers, and crushing insecurities. It is a safe environment necessary for many young burn survivors’ recovery and without a doubt helped me to become the strong, confident woman that I am today.”

We are grateful to the ‘moms’ who helped our daughter. The village of family and friends, emergency and medical professionals of all kinds, counselors, and campers too.

Over the past few years, Burn Camp families like mine have added another compassionate community to their village – AngelRide. Quietly devoting hours to training, volunteering, fundraising, and donating, AngelRiders are truly Camp ‘moms’. You make an immense difference in the lives of young burn survivors. You really do.

A heartfelt thank you,

Lynn Pandiani
AngelRide volunteer
Burn Camp mom

By Kelsey Pandiani

All week long, campers excitedly practice their scenes for the Camp play. Campers no only work on their lines, but also create their costumes and practice acting during their time at Theater. At the end of the week, they get up on stage with their friends and show off all their hard work! Theater has been an amazing addition to our Camp activities. It teaches our campers confidence, creativity, and teamwork and is popular with all ages. While it is fun to dress up for Theater, it is even better to watch as our campers become comfortable in their own skin by playing and performing together on stage. Our goal is that they take this lesson and bring it with them to life outside of Camp.

Tamarah and I are pictured here before the play (The Lion King) as we prepared to help our group of campers with their scenes. Tamarah and I met at Burn Camp when we were 13 years old. We became fast friends (literally overnight). During the week we did all of our activities together as if we had know each other for years. I can remember dressing up and getting on stage to act out goofy skits with her at my side. I love that we can now work together as counselors to help our campers have that same empowering Camp experience! 

The little girl stands in a clearing in the woods, her chin tucked to her chest, her gaze cast down on the sun-dappled forest floor. Beside her, her camp counselor leans close to see her face, searching for the words to ease the child’s fear.

The girl is named Nevaeh, heaven spelled backwards...

Read more at the Boston Globe…

Being able to volunteer as a counselor for the burn camp that had given me so much as a kid was an amazing experience. The confidence I have is in large part due to the experience I had at camp.

So this year, I am participating in AngelRide to benefit the Arthur C. Luf Children’s Burn Camp. The cost to send ONE kid to camp is about $2500. All kids attend at no cost to their families and all the staff are volunteers. Come out to support this event to help send these awesome kids to camp.

I’ll be biking 69 miles on June 1st. My goal is to raise $1991. 1991 is the year I was in a gas leak explosion. Both my brother and I suffered first, second, and third degree burns and I lost my father.

It is also the year I attended Burn Camp as one of the very first campers. I’ll be back to volunteer at Camp again this year because it means a lot to me to play a role in developing the self-esteem of young burn survivors and helping them to have the greatest experience – just being a kid at camp.

Click the link to make a donation to my page: http://events.angelcharitiesinc.org/goto/scarsarebeautiful

About 25 years ago I was diagnosed with cancer. To an 8-year-old child, it initially meant little more than feeling very ill.

However, the look from my parents told volumes. None of us knew we were about to embark on a roller coaster ride journey that has no certain end.

From the very onset of treatment, I was swept away in a blur of white rooms, beeping machines, IV tubes, and countless tests. I spent the first few months in various stages of illness constantly surrounded by adults in surgical masks and sterilization suits.

To this day, I can still smell the medical cleaning supplies. The medicines administered caused my hair to fall out. And the steroids caused my face to swell up. It was as if a stranger stared back at me from the mirror every morning.

During this time, I never heard everything is going to be fine. “You have the best team doing everything possible,” they told me. Outside the hospital, I faced harsh reality as people poured on the pity or simply ignored me.

Being shunned by parents and other children for something I had zero control of and did not understand was worst of all. At some point during treatments enough was enough and I gave up!

This is where camps and programs like The Hole in the Wall Gang and the Hospital Outreach Program (HOP) come in. Camp is a place free of judgment and pity — where children get to play and sing; and experience life like a healthy child. We fished from canoes on a lake. We ate in large groups with other children facing the same challenges. There were no doctors or white walls. All you could hear was laughter.

For children too ill to go to camp, HOP brings camp into hospital rooms. They get to experience the joy of being treated as a child, not an illness. This can turn the tide of the battle and mend a broken spirit. It’s a reminder that there is more outside the four walls of a hospital room. And the best part is these programs are offered to families at no cost.

There are many of us who, once a year, gather together on an exciting journey cycling across Connecticut to raise awareness and support for this program. AngelRide started out in 2004 to help one child but has since grown to help tens of thousands.

We need your support to help us reach our ambitious $700,000 fund-raising goal for 2016.

I am hoping you can find it in your hearts to help support this important cause. Consider sponsoring one of the hundreds of AngelRiders with your financial donation. Proceeds from AngelRide support the HOP program.

Take it from me, the kids could sure use your help.

In 1988, 250 campers, over the course of a summer, came to experience a different kind of healing.

250. Strangers. Patients. Perhaps away from home for the first time, except for hospital visits that had become frequent enough that they could be called “normal.” 250 who knew discomfort, insecurity, and uncertainty better than anyone in the world, and now were once again stepping into the unknown.  An unheard of program that would allow them to be included in things that the most people take for granted.   250 families that somehow found the strength to let them go. Trusting these precious lives to the care of the Hole in the Wall Gang. Bonds were built that summer as strangers became friends. And friends became networks. And networks became support systems. And support systems become circles.

On Sunday night after the ride into Mystic, we sat fireside under a star filled sky telling stories and laughing in the warm and smoky air when the realization settled in to each of us. Somehow it had happened again: Another AngelRide had come and gone and we were left to bask in only the memories…and in that moment, from a heartfelt place, a simple statement.

“You guys. You are my Circle.”

Although the weekend couldn’t have been summed up more perfectly than in that thought, we all had the moment to silently reflect on the enormity of the statement. And in that reflection, a unique but similar thought went through each of our minds. Perhaps it was Dave’s continued recovery from cancer making this year’s ride such a triumph. Perhaps it was the #TeamKate and #KateStrong moniker that we carried throughout the weekend on our One Ton kits and in our hearts. Most certainly, in the forefront, it was the children and families of the Hole in the Wall Gang. Each thought, unique to ourselves, but binding us to one another. United in support. A circle indeed.

We had spent the afternoon and evening telling the stories about all that we had seen, and all that we had experienced over the past few days, weeks, and even months. Some stories will remain untold. Forgotten…until an idle conversation later in the year that sparks enough of a thought for us remember. From that spark, in an unrelated conversation with an unrelated person who may not have even been at the AngelRide, there is a trigger that creates the avalanche of memory. As our minds race to keep up with the thoughts as they tumble out of control, we may catch glimpse of something that went unnoticed before, even to ourselves. Perhaps we’ll hold back and savor the story in our own mind, keeping it as just that…a private thought of our own. Or maybe, we’ll decide to share it. To let others in. Speaking from experience, I can say that sharing it can be difficult. Some advice though; there is a tremendous reward in sharing. For in the telling, we enjoy the opportunity of reliving. My ride with Becky taught me that last year, but only after a group of friends said “in your own time” that allowed me to open up. My circle.

As the evening moved to night, we toast the AngelRide for another successful year. To the Volunteers…that amazing group that makes this all possible. To all those who donate, be it time, energy and/or money. The riders. Every single one. To Moto. We toast the Hole in the Wall Gang for all they do, and are so grateful that they exist, although we all wish they didn’t have to. We toast each other. Unspoken, in the back of our minds is the ever present echo of why we are here. For the kids. For their families. To help provide some relief to those who must search it out…every minute of every day, because for them, there is no pause. No break from the uncertainty. The unrelenting “Whys” and “What ifs” won’t allow for it. This universal feeling that, knowing that the Hole in the Wall exists is simply not enough. This bond we share creates an overwhelming feeling that requires no spoken word. At Camp, they get you. It’s demonstrated each year as we sit in the theatre hall on Saturday night. The ride for the day is done, but the true meaning of why we are all gathered will be, once again, revealed and reinforced for us.

Peter is a camp dad. The father of a child lost. He summons the strength to talk to us about his nephew, diagnosed and lost to cancer. And then the unthinkable. His son. He speaks in short bursts so that he can take a break to breath and collect himself between thoughts. As he tells us about his son, it becomes more and more clear that, while time may heal all wounds, not enough has passed. Perhaps it never will. A collective desire to support this man…this stranger, who is baring his wounded heart to all of us so that we can see just how important this place is to him fills the room. Perhaps coming here, standing on this stage, telling his story is part of the healing process. How the Hole in the Wall Gang allowed his son to be a kid. Not just a patient. To let him feel acceptance. How it brought sunshine to his life. How it brought a smile to his child’s face. At camp…they get you.

The entire room seems to shrink in around him.

Lisa is a camp mother. Her daughter lost, and through the mourning, her young son asks, “Why?” An unanswerable question that he puts to his mother, while she too must attempt to answer it for herself. She cannot. In his confusion he feels not only sorrow, but alone. As he struggles with the “why” as he becomes more disconnected from his family and friends. It is evident in the lack of interest in playing, talking, and school. The unanswered question of why has been replaced with “What’s the point?”

Through the sibling program at Camp, her son, Evan, can attend and meet other siblings. He can have conversations that only these kids can understand. Reveal feelings. Vent anger. Share tears. Ask why. Remember his sister. Lean on shoulders…and perhaps most importantly, lend an ear, a hand to hold, and true understanding to ANOTHER person who is going through the same thing he is.

Camp helps Evan heal, and shows him that he can help other siblings like him heal too. Even if the “Why” is never answered, the feeling of being alone is relieved. He is not alone. His has a Circle.

Now, 27 and a professor at a university with degrees in Mathematics and Astro Physics, his quest to answer “why” spills into a thirst for knowledge. He asks why, and encourages others to do so also. Evan speaks to us and credits camp as a part of his recovery. The room again seems to crowd around without moving. The community grows tighter still.

Those of us that have sat in the theatre before expect that not all the stories end happily, but there is happiness in them all. The Magic of camp. All those who take this stage know that they will be embraced. Held in silent support, and gentle awe of the strength they demonstrate and frailty at the same time. Earlier this spring I got a wonderful and kind note from a Camp Mom whose son was a sibling camper. She signed off as “Lisa”…and I can’t help think that just maybe…

Among the many reasons I’m grateful that I have become involved with AngelRide is the friendship I share with Ed Dean. While we only see each other one weekend a year, we talk semi-regularly.  I use the word “talk” in the loosest sense as our conversations are typically an exchange of instant messages on FaceBook. I believe that counts as a conversation in this day and age. During the course of one particular chat, Ed said to me “We are all just a reflection of those we find ourselves surrounded by.” The sentiment of that phrase struck me, so I have saved the message.

“…those we find ourselves surrounded by.”

Ed provides a truly honest perspective as he doesn’t hide from the difficulty of the mountain he has had to, and continues to climb. He credits those who surround him with providing shelter from the storm and he imparts that insight into nearly every conversation we have. From the onset of his injury, to the becoming the man who stood up…Ed has bared his scars and relied on his circle. In Ed’s own words, don’t be inspired by him…be inspired by those surrounding him. As we talked, I started to realize that sometimes, the support we all receive is unseen, and perhaps underappreciated. We are all inspired by the strength of the immediately affected…but a deeper look will reveal the support system surrounding them. Ed doesn’t miss the opportunity to give credit where it is due. As I thought about it…the Hole in the Wall Gang Counselors came to mind. And the Angel Ride Volunteers. And my wife.

“…And now the Circle gets smaller.”

I’ve been thinking about this statement made by Dave since the moment he made it. Every year Dave leads us in remembrance of our military and their sacrifices. We honor both those serving, and those whom have served. Those home, those abroad, and, of course, in observation of Memorial Day, those who have fallen. This year Dave called for the group to circle around him. He asked the Veterans among the group to come inside the circle. Inside of our veterans, Dave called for anyone who had a family member who had served. I very proudly took my spot inside the circle as the son of a Marine. Finally, Dave asked anyone, should they feel comfortable enough, to join him inside the family circle if they had lost a family member in combat. One person joined my friend Dave. This innermost circle of only two. Two… surrounded by an impenetrable wall of humanity who collectively wanted to reach out and console, for the deeper you penetrate into the circle, the more support you need (deserve), and the thicker that the walls of your circle grow. Knowing that, while we couldn’t possibly know the feeling of loss due to circumstances over which there was no control, what we could offer is a place to lean. I couldn’t help but to think that the circle that is the smallest, is the strongest. How appropriate to have such metaphor at the Hole in the Wall Gang Camp.

The ride to Mystic is a great way to reflect on all that happened the day before. As I ride, I inevitably think of the theatre the night before.   This year was no different. I do at least part of the ride alone so that I can let my mind wander. Picturing Ray Shedd coming across the picnic area to say hello. Seeing Lynn in her ever enthusiastic controlled chaos, every moment calculated and somehow spontaneous as the same time. John, amazing me again with his tenacity. Moto watching us like hawks, and keeping us from harm’s way to the best of their mighty ability. I also have the opportunity to ride with several of my teammates…for however long they could bear to be around my squeaking bike.   It’s those moments that resonate with me the most I think. Five years ago I knew only one person at this ride…and today it’s more like family. The closing miles into Mystic are bittersweet. The party is starting…but the ride is over. Riding in with my teammates was great. Having Dave in the front to lead us in was something to remember. This event is special that way.

In 1988, 250 patients came to a small town in the north east of Connecticut where they were welcomed as kids. These once strangers were shown that they were not alone by the staff and volunteers of the Hole in the Wall Gang…and most importantly, by each other. Universal acceptance. A gift beyond imagination.

In 2014, more than 31,000 campers and hospital visits brought a kind of healing that no doctor…no medicine can. If you are reading this…it’s a pretty good bet that you helped make this happen.

Thirty
One
THOUSAND.
All in a circle.
Thank you Angel Ride.
Thank you Moto.
Thank you One Ton.
Thank you Lynn and Fred and the entire Angel Ride community.
Dave, special thanks to you. You know why.
Thank you again Hole in the Wall Gang. Not just for being there, but for continuing to be there. For your ever expanding Circle.

And Just as I’m closing this out… a message comes across my FaceBook feed from #TeamKate.

With Heartfelt sincerity,

Kenny Osborn
KOzz513@angelride.org
Team One Ton

This is a poem by former Camper Lizzie Parsons, who is celebrating her 10th year cancer free. Her whole family has participated in AngelRide from the very start, well before anyone imagined cancer arriving into their lives.

When I was diagnosed with cancer,

The bottom fell out of my world.
I stared out of the window at the grey March day
And cried.
And cried.
And cried.

Cancer turns you grey inside.
Grey and black and linoleum green—
A storm of everything and nothing at once.
An endless tempest of hospital rooms and heartbreak.

But…

There is a hidden place where you find the colors again.
A secret place where
The red and blue and purple and yellow and green live
And they get under your skin,
Wrap their threads around your heart and lungs,
And slowly—gently—
Start the kaleidoscope turning.

I know a spell to cure heartbreak.
Take one hole, one wall,
And hundreds of angels
Dressed in rainbows.

When I was recovering from cancer,
I found the place where the pieces
Of my world had landed. I sat in the grass
And put them back together again.
I looked up at the blue August sky
And laughed.
And laughed.
And loved.