Camp Māk-A-Dream Ambassadors

Cancer got my dad in 1986. In his last nine years, he became obsessed with running, marathons in particular. He ran his last at 59. (That's him in the photo above, savoring the afterglow of the Lincoln Marathon, circa 1979.)

I am a dog of the dirt, far more at home on trails than pavement. But with my 60th birthday looming on the near horizon last spring, I decided to run the one he never got to do. As luck would have it, I qualified for the Boston Marathon. My dad dreamed of running it, but never got to do that one, either. I’ll be at the starting line on Monday. I hope to honor his spirit and those of countless others whose lives have been upended by cancer, and do a bit of good while I’m at it.

Liz and I will match the first $500 donated, and 100% of all contributions will go to Camp Mak-A-Dream. (That’s true regardless of whether I cross the finish line, but I’m pretty dogged about these things.) Launched in 1995, Camp Mak-A-Dream gives people living with cancer a chance to spend a week in a gorgeous slice of western Montana with others who are traveling on that same path. All free of charge. You can learn way more about it at www.campdream.org.

This place is the genuine article. Longtime friends serve on its staff, board and as regular old volunteers. When a nonprofit has a waiting list for volunteers, they’re doing more than a few things right. I spent a week volunteering there with a camp for 13- to 18-year-olds way back in 2000. They included an aspiring concert violinist with a brain tumor who brought her violin and played outside her room every night beneath all those stars. By the end of the week, the whole camp was gathering in the dark to listen. A downhill and giant slalom standout who’d lost the lower half of his left leg to bone cancer and taught himself to ski one-legged. A shy poet parrying leukemia with nothing but her beautiful words.

It is an experience guaranteed to crack anyone’s heart wide open. I left awed by their courage, absence of self-pity, frequent outbreaks of joy, skin-peeling honesty and, despite it all, often irrepressible humor. A much-needed reminder that humans at their best hold the power to amaze every day. That's a view my father embraced absolutely. He would have loved everything about Camp Mak-A-Dream. Between his spirit and those of all the people who have been and will be enriched by time spent at their camps, I'll have a bunch of fine running partners helping me climb Heartbreak Hill.  

Absolutely zero pressure. Give if inclined. Thank you.  

Dan Crockett