Surviving the Fog-Kathy's Recollections
by Stan Morris
I don’t recall, exactly, when I accepted the likelihood that my mother, and my father, and my sister, and my brother were dead. I remember gradually becoming alarmed when the Camp Administrator, who we called ‘the Admin,’ did not return with the counselors who had left with her. And the first time I cried was the morning when Jackie, the single remaining adult, would not leave her cabin.