When I was in elementary school, I can remember my mom hauling me to and from various events where we would volunteer our time. I didn't understand the impact that these moments of lending a helping hand would have, but my parents were very persistent in having us Krebs boys do acts of kindness.
The Relay for Life was a big one - my mom routinely helped for the once-a-year all-nighter at the high school. We boys would get dragged along and have to help set up tables, stands and luminary baskets. We were also in charge of staying out of trouble if we finished with our work or took an hour break for kids to be kids and play with one another. Not that we stayed out of trouble, we just tried not to break anything of importance.
I remember many of us young kids helping with the building of Swiss Alps playland, or as our kids call it now, "Cheese Park." We kids weren't given many of the real responsibilities, but we felt a part of it.
Cheese Days, craft days, karate events and various church functions; Monroe, Juda, Gratiot and New Glarus. Looking back on it, we did a lot. Sometimes my brothers and I thought it was boring, as is usual, but we also knew we weren't getting out of helping.
There were fundraising efforts I didn't understand were fundraising efforts, like running in the Campions Champions 5k race at the Junction House. I didn't understand that helping out with the Apostolate to the Handicapped meant more than just getting the "Volunteer" Campions Champions T-shirts until I was a teenager.
And like most youth, I looked up to the bigger kids - not the adults - in our community. Many of the Monroe varsity football players helped out, including my older brother. I wanted to be like them. I saw their laughter, their smiles and their T-shirts. The T-shirt was symbolic of their efforts. It was symbolic of being "high school important." I was a tween who wanted to be like those guys, so I started joining the cause with more effort.
Whether it was the TV mass on Channel 3, the pig roast or the winter Apostolate dinner, I wanted to help. All of these things had another element in common - they were all guided by Father Thomas Campion (before he became a Monsignor). To get to know TC would be to change your life for the better. He remains all these years later arguably one of the five most influential persons in my life.
Helping with the Apostolate was no longer a way to snag a free T-shirt, it was a way to spend time with TC, set an example for the young kids in our community and, most importantly, spend some time helping people who need help. Making their day better. The handicapped, the elderly, those who do not have the same opportunities as many of us do - this was a chance for me to give back to the community. In my teen years I began to understand this and saw it in action. TC brought out the best in so many of us impressionable teenagers. He started bringing out the best in me.
This weekend marked the 50th anniversary of the Apostolate dinner at Monroe High School. My 11-year-old daughter helped set up with dozens of people Friday night after the boys basketball game to get it ready for Saturday's events. On Saturday, she volunteered on the food line, placing ice cream on plates before the plates were served. This was also my first time back to the dinner since the year of TC's death in 2010. I left the newspaper in the fall of 2011 and spent the past six years working in the Swiss Colony fulfillment building, and our Saturdays in December were spent working overtime shipping goods across the country to consumers. But this year, I wanted to go back to the dinner, and it was almost as if nothing had changed.
I'm not a church-goer, but I did sit through the mass. And when I grabbed the program and read about TC, and saw his picture, I got teary-eyed. Memories of my volunteering past flooded my brain, and I knew I was in the right place. I carried trays of food to the guests of Monroe High School, and I felt as good as ever doing it. It was the right thing to do. And as an adult, I understand even more the power of helping those who have less.
TC and the Apostolate helped make me a better man, but my mother started it by dragging us everywhere to give up our time. It's one of those life lessons that takes a while to click, but you're darn comforted when it does.
- Adam Krebs is a reporter for the Monroe Times and can be reached at akrebs@themonroetimes.net.
The Relay for Life was a big one - my mom routinely helped for the once-a-year all-nighter at the high school. We boys would get dragged along and have to help set up tables, stands and luminary baskets. We were also in charge of staying out of trouble if we finished with our work or took an hour break for kids to be kids and play with one another. Not that we stayed out of trouble, we just tried not to break anything of importance.
I remember many of us young kids helping with the building of Swiss Alps playland, or as our kids call it now, "Cheese Park." We kids weren't given many of the real responsibilities, but we felt a part of it.
Cheese Days, craft days, karate events and various church functions; Monroe, Juda, Gratiot and New Glarus. Looking back on it, we did a lot. Sometimes my brothers and I thought it was boring, as is usual, but we also knew we weren't getting out of helping.
There were fundraising efforts I didn't understand were fundraising efforts, like running in the Campions Champions 5k race at the Junction House. I didn't understand that helping out with the Apostolate to the Handicapped meant more than just getting the "Volunteer" Campions Champions T-shirts until I was a teenager.
And like most youth, I looked up to the bigger kids - not the adults - in our community. Many of the Monroe varsity football players helped out, including my older brother. I wanted to be like them. I saw their laughter, their smiles and their T-shirts. The T-shirt was symbolic of their efforts. It was symbolic of being "high school important." I was a tween who wanted to be like those guys, so I started joining the cause with more effort.
Whether it was the TV mass on Channel 3, the pig roast or the winter Apostolate dinner, I wanted to help. All of these things had another element in common - they were all guided by Father Thomas Campion (before he became a Monsignor). To get to know TC would be to change your life for the better. He remains all these years later arguably one of the five most influential persons in my life.
Helping with the Apostolate was no longer a way to snag a free T-shirt, it was a way to spend time with TC, set an example for the young kids in our community and, most importantly, spend some time helping people who need help. Making their day better. The handicapped, the elderly, those who do not have the same opportunities as many of us do - this was a chance for me to give back to the community. In my teen years I began to understand this and saw it in action. TC brought out the best in so many of us impressionable teenagers. He started bringing out the best in me.
This weekend marked the 50th anniversary of the Apostolate dinner at Monroe High School. My 11-year-old daughter helped set up with dozens of people Friday night after the boys basketball game to get it ready for Saturday's events. On Saturday, she volunteered on the food line, placing ice cream on plates before the plates were served. This was also my first time back to the dinner since the year of TC's death in 2010. I left the newspaper in the fall of 2011 and spent the past six years working in the Swiss Colony fulfillment building, and our Saturdays in December were spent working overtime shipping goods across the country to consumers. But this year, I wanted to go back to the dinner, and it was almost as if nothing had changed.
I'm not a church-goer, but I did sit through the mass. And when I grabbed the program and read about TC, and saw his picture, I got teary-eyed. Memories of my volunteering past flooded my brain, and I knew I was in the right place. I carried trays of food to the guests of Monroe High School, and I felt as good as ever doing it. It was the right thing to do. And as an adult, I understand even more the power of helping those who have less.
TC and the Apostolate helped make me a better man, but my mother started it by dragging us everywhere to give up our time. It's one of those life lessons that takes a while to click, but you're darn comforted when it does.
- Adam Krebs is a reporter for the Monroe Times and can be reached at akrebs@themonroetimes.net.
