When I was in grade school, I’d go to a Methodist church camp on the Grand Mesa in Colorado. It was much like any secular summer camp, just with religious lessons (much like Sunday School) in the mornings and a sing-along campfire at night.

One year, on the last morning after breakfast, we were asked to answer some questions about our camp experience. The director had written a few questions on poster-size paper, and we were just answering on notebook paper and then turning them in. The last question puzzled me; it seemed like a rather deep religious question. So, I raised my hand to ask him to clarify.

Me: “[Director], what do you mean in that last question?”

Director: “Just what did you think about your options?”

Me: “Options on our re-creation?”

I was thinking of being Born Again.

Director: “No, that’s ‘recreation’. Y’know, boating, hiking, volleyball, softball.”

Me: “OH!”

I work at a campground at a resort between Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks. Since we’re in bear country, there are storage lockers for foodstuffs and warnings all over the place (including signs fixed to every picnic table) warning not to leave food out.

Rangers patrol the area and routinely leave warnings for people that leave coolers on their tables while they are out for the day. They get a warning for the first offense, and items are confiscated for repeat offenders.

A group comes to the campground office complaining.

Park Guest: “Our food has been stolen!”

Me: “Which locker did you leave it in?”

Park Guest: “Locker? What locker? We left it on the table.”

Me: “Park rangers will confiscate food if it’s left on the picnic tables.”

Park Guest: “Well then, get it back for us!”

Me: “Well, it’s quite late, so the ranger station is actually closed. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow to retrieve your food.”

Park Guest: “That’s unacceptable! That’s our food!”

Me: “Either the ranger confiscates it and you get it back, or a bear eats it and you get nothing. Which would you prefer?”

Silence.

Park Guest: *Storming off* “Stupid bears, ruining the park for everybody.”

At my primary school, the year fives and sixes got to go on a trip to this outdoorsy activity centre. We stayed for a week, sleeping inside where the bunk beds were since the trip was in late autumn.

As well as all the outdoorsy “fun” activities we got to do, every afternoon, we had an hour or so in a cabin-like classroom, and we could spend any money we had taken with us at the tuck shop. It was mostly just chocolate and sweets and stuff, but on Thursday — the last day since we went home on Friday — there were little souvenirs like a tiny teddy bear and a pen in the shape of an arrow.

We also had group chores. I don’t remember what all of the chores were, but in year six, my chore was to tidy the dinner hall after breakfast with four of my classmates.

Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday morning, this was fine. We wiped the tables and vacuumed the floors and such.

Thursday morning, we did some of that. As I was getting the vacuum cleaner with the smiley face out of the cupboard, one of the classmates I shared this chore with approached me.

Classmate: “The teacher said we don’t have to vacuum today.”

Me: “We don’t?”

Classmate: “Nope. We can go now.”

I looked to see what the other three were doing, and they were waiting by the door, ready to leave.

Me: “Okay.”

And my poor, naive, ten-year-old self put the smiley vacuum back and left with the others.

As some of you may have already guessed, no teacher had said any such thing.

When we went to that hour in the cabin classroom that evening, the teacher started with an announcement. It went on for a while, but the gist of what she said was this:

Teacher: “[My Group] left the dinner hall in a right state. They should be ashamed of themselves. They’re all really selfish, expecting our kind hosts to clean up after them when everyone else has been doing their chores. As punishment, they will not be allowed to go to the tuck shop tonight.”

I was devastated. I thought of myself as a good student and hated getting in any kind of trouble. And, as far as I was aware at the time, I was in trouble when I hadn’t done anything wrong.

I’d also been saving my £5 all week (even though some of the other kids were able to spend that much on sweets each day) so I could get each of my sisters a teddy (and spend the change on sweets). And now, I was banned from the last day of the tuck shop. I was bawling.

One of the teaching assistants took me out of the classroom, probably because my crying would not help the other students focus on whatever they were supposed to be doing.

She calmed me down enough that I could explain why I thought I hadn’t done anything wrong. She explained that I had been lied to and that I should have finished doing the chore unless a teacher told me personally not to. Most importantly, to ten-year-old me at least, she said that if I gave her my £5 note, then she would go to the tuck shop for me to get my sisters their teddies.

I was still upset, but I accepted her offer and returned to the lesson. Later, out of view of the other students, she gave me two tiny teddies and my change.

I’m so glad she was so nice and understanding, even though I hadn’t done what I was supposed to.

When I was sixteen years old, I was an undiagnosed young autistic working the Girl Scout equestrian day camp circuit. For those unaware, horses cannot see directly in front of them, behind them, or under their necks because their eyes are on the side. For this reason, we (the volunteers) would saddle the kids’ horses ahead of time and just bring them along on the “adventure” of checking and adjusting the tack when we got into the arena.

This lovely young girl I had with me was a little hyperactive during the safety talk and selection of boots and helmet, but I wasn’t too worried. Most girls were just excited to go riding for the first time. However, when I finished checking the saddle tightness, I made an error: I asked her how we should go in front of the horse instead of telling her.

This poor child ducked under the horse’s neck right as he started to adjust his feet. I grabbed her by the hood of her puffy jacket.

Me: “Oops, that’s not quite right. Let me show you.”

I led her around by putting my hand on the center of the horse’s face. It was a terrifying few seconds, but she laughed it off and her troop had a great lesson. I don’t think she even caught on that she was in serious danger.

When I led them in and was directing them to take off their helmets and boots, who should appear but the child’s mother. The mother began screaming at me.

Mother: “You hurt my child! How dare you even touch her?! You could have scared her half to death. I’m going to sue you for hurting my baby, and you should be glad I’m not taking it further!”

Me: “I was trying to keep the little girl safe; the horse was moving its legs, and a kick to the head can still do a lot of damage through the helmet!”

I eventually just started crying because I was overstimulated.

My boss opened her door next to us and asked me what was going on. The mom started screaming again, and my boss sharply intoned:

Boss: “No, I asked [My Name] what happened.”

I gave her the rundown: how I had asked the little girl what to do, how she had ducked, how the horse’s legs had been moving, how I had grabbed her by the back of the jacket and she’d been just fine, how the mom was now screaming at me despite the viewing platform being a good twenty feet above us, and how I was panicking because I didn’t like being yelled at.

My boss turned around and spoke to the mom in a calm, slow voice.

Boss: “Your daughter is okay. My teacher saved her life. Furthermore, Missouri law and the waiver you signed at the beginning of the lesson means you cannot sue us even if you wanted to. Now, leave her alone.”

Somehow, this got the woman to go away, and we were able to have a fun rest of the day teaching her daughter’s troop about horses and their breeds and feeding.

When I just started dating my now-wife, I quickly noticed she didn’t like being in dark alleys, parks, etc. She was skittish whenever we walked outside during the night, so I asked if something had happened.

She told me that when she was eight (in the early nineties), she went to a weekend camp. It was located in the forest, and she had a lot of fun… until the evening. She was in a group of six to eight girls, all around her age, and together with three camp leaders, they would do an evening walk. After walking for about thirty minutes:

Camp Leader #1: “Oops, this is where the track ends! But I think there might be still markings around here, so maybe we can find our way back!”

The girls quickly found the clues and followed the path, but somewhere around the route… they lost the clues and accidentally started following similar signs. Should the Camp Leaders have noticed? 

Trust me, my wife still curses them for this.

Suddenly, everyone heard music – that must be the camp! Everyone hurries to the light… and ends up at a place with a radio and coffins. What was going on? The Camp Leaders don’t know either… and suddenly someone jumps from a coffin! The girls scream; it’s a vampire!

Turns out the group accidentally followed the tracks for the older teens – a more horror-creepy-track. The vampire was awfully nice and kind, giving directions about where they should go. My wife made clear this vampire had nothing to do with her fear.

No… it was the Camp Leaders. Imagine a group of eight-year-old girls, tired and scared because they are lost, no cell phones, and just had a vampire jump from a coffin… And then the Camp Leaders decide to say this:

Camp Leader #1: “Oh no, we are so lost! What if we never get home again?”

Camp Leader #2: “What if there are wolves or bears, they will eat you!”

Camp Leader #3: “Do you see that man over there? I think I saw him carrying a knife! What if he spots you? He will murder you all!”

Wife: *At eight years old.* “Where is [Camp Leader #1]?”

Camp Leader #2: “Oh, don’t worry, he’s just checking if that way is the way to the camp. Just wait a bit.”

At that moment, [Camp Leader #1] jumps from the bushes, with his beanie pulled over his head. He screams ‘Raaawr!’ and the likes and of course, the group of girls start to scream.

When they finally get back to camp, the girls are sent to bed straight away, because it is so late. The other Camp Leaders do not ask the girls what happened, just the other Camp Leaders and they just said they got lost a little bit.

So, of course, the girls all told their parents. Most parents didn’t believe them. My wife’s parents did believe her but thought she was overreacting. They were with the Camp Leaders, so they were safe, right?

About fifteen years later, my wife (with her parents) coincidentally came across one of the other girls in the group. They talked about that dreaded night and only then the parents believed their daughter. Especially when that other girl told her that ALL the girls in the group (she stayed in touch with some) were now afraid of the dark, dark alleys and dark forests.

Were mistakes made? Should all the adults have handled this differently? Absolutely. But nothing can be done about this anymore (perhaps therapy), because the camp no longer exists and technically no law was broken. I’m just very glad my wife says she trusts me and is less scared in the dark when she’s with me. But I will never scare-prank her, or anyone else.

I’ve seen the results of a scare prank. Please, just don’t do it.