PIERSON, Florida — Linda Beigel Schulman smiled as she watched 25 young campers from Fort Lauderdale and Miami frolic in a bucolic Florida spring afternoon. The scene brought back memories of her slain son, Scott Beigel, who loved summer camps.
That’s why Beigel Schulman is raising money in his name so she and her children can go to sleepaway camp elsewhere. It’s something she and her husband, Michael Schulman, have done every year since the 2018 massacre at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland that left her son, two other staff members and 14 students dead.
The Scott J. Beigel Memorial Fund sent 264 children, ages 9 to 16, to seven summer camps in Florida, New York, New Jersey and Massachusetts this summer. Most of them were disadvantaged or had experienced gun violence.
“We want to take them out of their environment, send them to a camp and just let them be kids,” Beigel Schulman said. “Let them leave their misery and their problems and everything behind. Let them meet new friends. Let them learn how to trust.”
Scott Beigel became a geography teacher, in part so he could continue to go to camps and give kids the same opportunities he had. He started as a camper at age 7, became a counselor in his teens, and eventually became an administrator. He loved the sense of community camps provided and how they helped younger generations appreciate the great outdoors.
He would return again and again, but was fatally shot on February 14, 2018 at the age of 35 after heroically leading 31 students to safety in his classroom.
“Scott loved camp — that was Scott’s happy place,” his mother said. “I remember him saying, ‘I don’t know exactly what I want to do yet, Mom.’ And I said, ‘Scott, the writing is on the wall. If you want to keep going back to camp, you’re going to have to be a teacher because that’s the only career that gives you the summer off.'”
The program started in 2018 with 54 kids and has been growing steadily ever since. This year, it raised more than $360,000, all to pay for the campers’ registration and transportation. Once in the program, kids can return each summer if they keep their grades up and out of trouble. At 17 and 18, the fund pays for them to become counselor trainees.
Beigel Schulman is not the only one honoring a loved one he lost at Stoneman Douglas. Most of the other victims families have also started foundations who award scholarships, promote school or gun safety, or combat disease.
It was nearly 90 degrees Fahrenheit and muggy on a recent morning at one of the Florida Sheriff’s Youth Ranches, it cut through the forest an hour’s drive north of Orlando. Battling through the heat, the managers and counselors got their 38 campers outside to do archery, bike riding and complete an obstacle course as a team.
The Beigel Foundation funded 25 of the campers. The counselors are a mix of volunteer substitutes and students. It is the only law enforcement-themed camp the foundation sponsors.
“We’re showing them who’s behind the uniform in this atmosphere where you feel at home and you’re out of your comfort zone,” said Elisha Hoggard, vice president of ranch programs. “It gives the kids a chance to have a real positive interaction with a police officer.”
Hoggard said most of the kids who go to the ranch camps are recommended by an officer as kids who need a boost. Maybe the students are hanging out with the wrong crowd or are new at school and aren’t making friends. Or maybe their parents are getting divorced or they’ve had a traumatic experience.
Al Hibbert, deputy mayor of Broward County and one of the counselors, said it’s important that city kids, like those in South Florida, have the opportunity to connect with nature.
“They don’t see this kind of life and don’t know that they can enjoy life far away from their community,” Hibbert said.
Campers must make their beds, clean their cabins, share their food and treat each other with respect. Swearing is not allowed.
Esteban Martinez, 13, admitted he is often shy. Going to camp for the first time gave him the chance to make new friends.
“Being here is fun, it really changed me. It’s good that you interact with other people,” Esteban said.
AJ Kozak, 15, says the camp has brought him into contact with police in a way he doesn’t at home.
“It makes me think that cops aren’t that bad. Because in the real world, cops are aggressive,” he said. “At the end of the day, they’re just people.”
A highlight of the Florida camp is the high ropes — strapped into a safety harness, willing campers walk across a 40-foot (12-meter) pole that stretches horizontally and slopes from 15 feet (4.5 meters) to 25 feet (7.6 meters) above the ground. The brave next climbs up a thin cable that extends another 10 feet (3 meters), grabbing ropes from above to maintain their balance as they traverse it.
“This is a big one — I’m terrified of heights,” Isa Marti, 14, screamed as she crawled toward the pole. She felt some pressure after her friend, Hazel Stampler, crossed over. A few years ago, an assailant pulled a gun on Isa’s family during an argument in a park. No shots were fired, but she and her brother ran for cover.
As Isa slowly crawled forward, she repeatedly wanted to stop and be lowered to the ground. But she didn’t stop, encouraged by other campers. After uttering a mild obscenity, which earned her admonition from an attendant, she made it—and climbed to the cable above, one of the few to do so.
“I like this,” she shouted as she walked across the barbed wire, prompting cheers from the other girls.
After she was lowered, Isa beamed as Hazel greeted her. They talked about how scared they were, but they pushed through.
The rope exercise “helps you overcome your fears, which will help you grow,” Hazel says.
The next morning, campers were bussed to nearby De Leon Springs State Park, where they donned life jackets before jumping into the water. Some socialized with kids from other camps or brought their families.
Beigel Schulman looked at the scene of playing, splashing children and wished her son could see it too.
“Isn’t this amazing? All these kids together — it doesn’t matter what ethnicity, what religion, what this, what that. They’re all one. If they could just take this home with them, that would be amazing,” she said.