It was a beautiful, sunny fall weekend with blue skies and a crisp in the air. The three of us somberly loaded up the car and headed for Crescent City, Florida. Any other time, we would have been so excited to be taking a family road trip together, but this time was different. We had no idea what to expect but were hopeful that the “school” we had been referred to by the Psychologist would be the answer to our prayers.
We stopped at a fruit stand in the small town and asked for directions to Stone Soup School. (Yes, you read it right.) The gentlemen offered us vague directions but we followed them out to the Palmetto ridden forest down a dirt road. If you’ve ever heard of Plum Nelly, well this was it. Plum Nelly nowhere. We were looking for a specific street address. Not seeing any street numbers anywhere, we finally started looking for signs. Surely the place had an entrance with a sign.
After a few miles, we finally spotted a wooden sign tacked up on a tree, revealing the grand entrance of Stone Soup. It said, “honk your horn three times and proceed slowly”. It was little more than a pathway and wide enough only for a car of normal size. That should have been enough to raise some questions about the “school”. But, we were there, had committed to an interview, so we honked three times, and proceeded very slowly down the path which was flanked on either side by palmettos and brush so thick you couldn’t see ten feet. Oh, Lord. Where are you leading us now?
We finally came upon a clearing with an Octogen shaped “building” covered with odd shaped and squares of aluminum (used in the 70’s for the Orlando Sentinel Newspaper) and, several little “cabins”. An abandoned yellow school bus sat off in the woods barely visible. A pathway off to the side led to a small spring fed lake with crystal clear water. A man came out and greeted us. He and his wife were the “administrators” of the school and he invited us down to their little cabin to have our interview. As we wandered down the pathway. I was glancing both ways observing the layout. Some chickens squawked from somewhere, but I didn’t see them. We went inside Frank and Esther’s cabin and were offered a seat. Describing the furniture is difficult. Early Green Box, maybe. A lazy dog found himself a place at the feet of Frank, and we began our interview.
Stone Soup School was modeled after a school in England. Its sole purpose was to teach the youngsters who attend to survive on their own and to learn that life has responsibilities, everyone is accountable for their actions, and that there are consequences for bad behavior. Plain and simple. Once a person commits to living there, they will do their part to sustain the school, they will gather at the drop of a hat if someone has an issue about anything, and they will be accountable to each other. They will cook, wash their own clothes, build their own place to live, and study. They will not be able to call their parents for the first three months they are there. They may not leave the premises without a staff member. They will get up and go to bed according to the school rules. No indoor plumbing and no frills unless they figured out a way to have them. A fancy preppy boarding it was not! We were told the cost for a student if we could pay it, but helping the child was more important than receiving money. No child would be turned away for lack of funds once enrolled. None of the kids there were bad kids. They were just misguided and one was autistic who never spoke a word. There were perhaps 18 to 20 in total. They came from all walks of life. Some came from what could be considered wealthy families and some were there because they had exhausted all avenues to a better life elsewhere. No matter the reason, they were there to learn how to survive and respect authority and each other and hopefully make a good life for themselves. Many pursued higher education and graduated college.
After our interview, we all turned to our daughter. “Well, what do you think”? “Oh, I love it! I really want to come here”! Now, here’s where I will tell you we had already made a trip to the beautiful hills of Rabun Gap-Nacoochee which was paradise, compared to Stone Soup. She allowed as to how she didn’t like it because it was too “preppy”. We knew that the real reason she didn’t like it was because smoking was not allowed anywhere on that campus. She secretly smoked anywhere she wanted and could get away with it.
So, we “toured” the grounds of Stone Soup and the main “big dome” (which was the kitchen, meeting house, game room, school house, library, dance hall, or whatever they decided it to be). Then on to the outhouse and shower, the dorm cabins, and the lake. We were shown the “bell” which was rung whenever there was an incident, or a meeting was called for any reason whatsoever, day or night. We were introduced to the rest of the “staff” which looked to me like homeless mission rejects. Oh Lord, help us! I can’t believe we’re doing this!
Then we piled in the car and headed home with the list of “gotta haves” for admission and plans to return in a few weeks to deposit our beautiful, precious 16-year-old girl. She seemed excited. I cried all the way home.
The day arrived for us to return to Crescent City and leave our baby girl. We made the trip down and spent one last evening with her on the banks of the St. Johns river in Palatka where we enjoyed a great meal overlooking the water. She seemed excited but I could tell she was somewhat apprehensive at this point about the whole thing. But as we arrived, she got her gear out of the car, was taken by one of the girls to her new quarters and we said our goodbyes.
If you have ever had a broken heart, you know how badly it can hurt. The pain is immense and the emotions we felt as we left our daughter cannot be described. We cried all the way home trying to convince ourselves that we were doing the right thing. Her high school years had not been easy. She had made some bad choices. She knew she was headed in a direction that she did not want to go. It was a very painful time in her life. And we felt a huge amount of guilt for not being there when she needed us, so it seemed. But, despite all the heartache and guilt, we acted out of love and prayed that in the end, our daughter would come away from Stone Soup with the skills to either get a good job or go on to college.
She made us proud! She graduated Stone Soup as one of a class of three. We often teased that she was the valedictorian, salutatorian, or another “torian”. One chance in three ain't bad. It was definitely one of those “you had to be there” moments, but we were there with bells on!
- More about Stone Soup as details are provided to me. Some of the funniest stories I have ever heard in my life come out of those years.
