Jerry Dunlap — counselor, friend, confidant, encourager, giver of hugs and wet willies, husband, father and brother to many beyond his immediate family, hero, and mentor, died May 30, 2008 at the Cleveland Clinic. Five years after his diagnosis with Primary Pulmonary Hypertension, Jerry’s passing came as a shock to his immediate family and the extended community of Camp Nuhop that Jerry served for nearly 35 years. Jerry, with his wife, Terrie, founded Camp Nuhop in 1974, which later grew into the Nuhop Center for Experiential Learning, of which Jerry served as Executive Director.

Jerry Dunlap dedicated his life and career to helping and counseling others. He changed thousands of lives by giving people his trust, sometimes listening to people at their highest and lowest points, and yes, sometimes exercising tough love. Jerry taught that all children, indeed all people, are lovable and capable, deserving of respect, and worthy of trust. Jerry lifted people up to feel better about themselves, and we all felt loved in his presence.

The thousands of campers and staff who attended Camp Nuhop will remember Jerry in their own way. Collectively, we will remember Jerry singing ‘You’ve Got a Friend’ during Songfest, which closed every Camp session, and the hugs he gave and received as we all sang along. We remember Jerry singing his favorite funny camp song, ‘Cold Spaghetti’, as he walked around the dining hall to find the perfect ear from which to pull an imaginary strand of cold, sticky, spaghetti. He would sing in a bellowing voice, with a playful but grossed-out look on his face, ‘Do you find it in his ear?’, and the whole dining hall would sing in response ‘Yes, you find it in his ear!!’, and on and on finding cold spaghetti in hair, under arms, in noses, and toes. We remember Jerry leading us through HIS favorite activity, the Malabar Swamp Hike. He would don his red bandanna, instruct us to tape our fingers together into fins, and would take us back to the primordial ooze, as we slid as bravely as possible into the warm swamp. Even Jerry could not hide his own surprise, discomfort, startles and giggles when an unknown creature brushed by his leg under the invisible swamp water. Swampy, muddy, wet, and cold were always Jerry’s specialties, and no Camp Nuhop day was too rainy or damp to go tubing in the river, swimming at the lake, or hiking through Mohican State Park. Jerry taught campers and staff to enjoy everything nature has to offer including rainy days, rotten logs, and the still quiet of a starry night. Passing by us in the dining hall, or after morning swim, Jerry would stop and talk, ask what we were going to do that day, give us hugs, and high fives, and tease us in his gentle, playful, way. The accumulation of these brief encounters reinforced in us that Jerry believed that each person was worthy of attention; that he took the time, so often, to just catch up, gave all of us a sense of value. We also remember Jerry when he sat down with us face to face to talk about tough love. Even the times when we had to leave Camp Nuhop we left with Jerry’s hug, and his arm around our shoulder.

The last night of camp in-service, the week-long training period before camp started, the Camp Nuhop Magic always came alive. In the evening, after dark, Jerry would lead the staff into the woods, to a clearing beyond Cabin 6. There we would sit in a circle around a small campfire, and Jerry would take from behind a log an imaginary kettle. Jerry described the kettle as dark, well-worn, and filled with the dreams, gifts, joys, and struggles of campers and staff who had come before. The Magic Kettle was all-consuming and all-giving and included the best of the Camp Nuhop spirit. Passing the kettle with great care, we would each take from the Magic Kettle what we needed and gave to it what we could offer or what we wanted to leave behind. The Magic Kettle made its way back to Jerry, and we all waited in anticipation of what our leader would take and put into the Magic Kettle. We hung on his every word.

On that last night of great anticipation for the arrival of our campers, we would reflect on what Jerry taught us and what in turn we could teach others. It was always Jerry’s way to teach and give and encourage and expect campers and counselors to become more than they thought they could be. He empowered us to trust in others as he trusted in us, and to make our world a better place much as he left his world. As we remember our friend Jerry, we hope the Magic Kettle will take all of our grief that he is gone, but give back all the joy he had for life, and the inspiration he has given all of us to make a difference in the lives of others.