Camp Francis: 30 Years of Tears, Bravery, and Roadmaps for Life

On a license plate he made to honor his mother, Tyten Hickman, 12, pointed out elements honoring his mom’s love of winter, cooking, camping, and the Lorax. He was 4 when she died, and he followed his siblings to Camp Francis.

Benefis Peace Hospice’s beloved Camp Francis marked 30 years in 2023 of providing a sanctuary for children who have lost a loved one.

“It helped us by teaching us to talk and be more open about what we were feeling,” Tyten said. “It’s about learning how to grieve while having a good time.”

Tyten’s favorite activities are art projects and the annual dance where everybody can “get goofy” and be themselves. Now a veteran of seven camps, Tyten offered this advice for other campers: “It’s OK to cry and be vulnerable, to talk with an adult, and to take a timeout when you need it.”

Camp Francis began with a dream and a shoestring budget. A local grocery store was willing to donate some bologna, so campers had bologna lunches. Since then, donors ensure the campers, who range from age 6 to 12, can attend at no cost, and the food is better, too.

Nurse Carol Holoboff founded Camp Francis and named it for her son, Francis, who died three years before the first camp. She also founded the Children’s Bereavement Program and the Talking About Grief teen group. She wanted children to have a place to talk about grief and a community of people who shared in similar losses, something she didn’t have after losing her mother at 11. Darcy’s Hope teen retreat began in 2008.

"There were people in the community that didn't think it was right to have a camp for children and talk about death, but Carol in her wisdom knew there was a need, and she'd seen it with her own children after Francis died," said Kathy Van Tighem, camp director. "We are all so appreciative for those people who came before us. When the sun came out today, I thought of Carol and Francis up there shining down on us and on all the good work we've done."

The spirit of Camp Francis is in ceremonies such as the annual lighting of the luminaries and release of balloons, but it’s also in the small moments – s’mores around the campfire, a hug from a camp cook, the feeling of warm grass, and the relaxation of being in nature.

On the first morning of camp, volunteer Paul Hogan helped campers make compasses, first explaining the science of how the instruments work and then getting down to the construction.

“This is something you can put in your backpack, and it doesn’t need a battery,” he said. “It can help you find your way home.”

Inside the lodge meanwhile, Dawn O’Leary helped campers create grief roadmaps, thinking through the bumps, detours, icy patches, construction, and twists in their stories.

Our life is a journey, and our grief is a journey, too,” she said. “Your counselors will be your pilot cars this week.”

Murphy Polsak, a kid group organizer, told the campers he had to find a new pathway on his grief journey.

“It was like I hit a dead end,” he said.

Celebrating her birthday at camp for the 14th time, Hertense Klein, now the camp nurse, remembers the pain she brought to her first camp as a 10-year-old who had recently lost her dad to suicide.

“As a kid, camp was about community,” she said. “We could share that common thread of understanding that deep loss. As an adult, I come back for the sake of service and the community we’ve built.”

Camp has grown into a place that impacts entire families as they grow and learn together, helping transform gut-wrenching pain into celebrating good memories of loved ones, Kathy said.

“As soon as I experienced camp, I knew it was something unique, something purposeful,” Kathy said. “Every ceremony, every craft, every conversation, and every presentation was powerful and aimed to walk with kids through their grief and allow them the opportunity to experience it and to learn from it.”

Laura Gilligan became a teen volunteer at Camp Francis after losing her mom to cancer. She called it a “life-changing opportunity” at a “magical” camp in an essay she shared.

“The truly miraculous part of camp took place at the ceremonies each night. The volunteers and campers had the opportunity to speak the name of their loved one aloud, to share their whole story, and to light candles in honor of those whom we have lost,” Laura wrote.

“Hearing a 6-year-old share the story of how he lost his grandfather and sister to a fire he barely escaped himself, or seeing two brothers hug each other after lighting candles for their mother and father would bring a grown man to tears,” she wrote. “Everyone cries at Camp Francis, but the kids are taught that tears are not a sign of weakness. These kids have experienced things most adults never have to, and they do it with a brave face.”