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We still can't believe it has been 50 years since my mother, Mama Knolk, started RRR. We are so proud that it is still the same as she built it and still has the same spirit upon which it was founded. Our children and grandchildren have had the wonderful opportunity to attend camp and we all can still sing some of the songs when we get together. May the spirit of Mama Knolk stay with all that have attended RRR.

I can't believe this will be my second summer away from Rocky River. I'm so campsick. I find myself singing RRR songs all the time, and i wish I could be there now! Camp has meant so much to me. Thanks for such a wonderful experience.

I honestly believe that I wouldn't be the same person if not for my many years at Rocky River, and each year that passes makes me more aware of the grace I found here and the gift of the chance to become one of the few ... a Rocky River girl. To the land of the triple R, I pledge my heart to you!

Picture a Spot … My years at Rocky River mean more to me than can be written down in a little note. There's probably not a day that goes by that I don't think about an experience, a laugh, a friendship, a struggle, a success, etc. that I experienced at camp. I love that I can go back and find the same "safe haven" that I experienced as a 7-year-old girl in Circle B through several years as a Counselor! Driving across that cattle guard at the front gate, my heart beat calms to a familiar and comforting beat again, like nothing else I've experienced.

I loved my counselors, I loved the river, and even learned how to sail on Canyon Lake. I still sing all the old camp songs that we sang every day after lunch to my little girl, who's five, every night before bed. I always end with, 'I love the mountains, I love the rolling hills ...' and then Taps.

I am still amazed and in awe of the subtle and mysterious way that simple activities and experiences weave together to leave an indelible impression of love ... confidence ... appreciation. They seem so simple there in the moment ... the singing of camp songs, Friendship Circle at the end of an evening program, the Cowpoke/Wrangler drawing, saddling a horse for the first time, scooting down the rapids ... but each song, with each tug on the halter rope, with each stroke of the canoe oar, with each ring of "Goodnight, campers!" a new brush of color is being painted on her childhood experience. From those "colors" spring forth amazing women as evidenced by the many remarkable people that now call themselves Rocky River alumni.