EMPIRE, Colo. — The Owls were ready to climb after spending a mid-July morning at a small fishing pond in the Rocky Mountains.

“My hands still smell like fish,” one of the Owls — an 11-year-old named Jackson Dana — said. He’d caught two that morning.

Jackson, fitted with a helmet and harness, ran off to the wall, but his twin Kacy lingered behind. She and two friends huddled around a 5-year-old golden retriever named Rosie, who lounged on the ground as they rubbed her belly.

“I like puppies; they are my favorite,” Kacy said. “I like Rosie better than climbing.”

She and Jackson started coming to Camp Comfort in Empire — a mining town about 45 minutes west of Denver — after their mother died last year. At camp, the twins were among dozens of children who understood what they were going through, who knew what it’s like to only have one parent and what it means to grieve during adolescence.

Everyone attending Camp Comfort knows someone who died.

The summer camp’s main purpose is to help children like Jackson and Kacy through their grieving process after a loved one has died by combining traditional camp activities — bonfires, hikes — with group sharing sessions.

More than 1,900 children have attended Camp Comfort since it began in 1995. Mount Evans Home Health Care and Hospice oversees the camp, which serves children ages 6 to 12.

Camp can help children become comfortable with opening up about their loss when they aren’t ready for traditional therapy, Camp Comfort Director Ashley Collins said.

“The camp is such a natural space for a child,” she said. “…Kids are kids. They want to play.”

A reporter and photographer from The Denver Post spent part of a recent Saturday with the Owls, including during two sessions when the children talked about their grief, to better understand how the camp works.

On that day, Camp Comfort had set aside time during a jam-packed day of fishing, swimming and rock climbing for the children to open up about loss. The Owls — the camp’s 10- and 11-year-olds — were scheduled to do so after rock climbing.

But Kacy was nervous to talk about her mom.

“Over time, I just knew to leave it alone,” she later said. “It’s just there. We don’t really talk about her.”

The rock climbing drew Kacy’s attention from Rosie as her brother reached the top in 57 seconds.

“I can do it faster,” Kacy said before rushing to put on a harness and helmet.

Jackson took up the wall again. He wanted to beat his first time — and that of his friends. Jackson reached the top within 45 seconds the second time, but cut it to 40 seconds after a third attempt.

“You got this, Kacy,” he told his sister when her turn came. “Some (rocks) are loose, by the way. You got this!”

Kacy scaled the wall and rang the bell at the top in 27 seconds.

“Do it again,” Jackson told her.

Kacy’s second attempt was even faster.

“Twenty-two seconds!” Jackson said. “Bro, I’ve got to tell the group that. I’m going to be screaming in their face, ‘A girl beat your time!’”

“Jackson, a girl beat your time — by a lot,” Kacy replied.

‘I called her Mom’

The Owls sat in a circle in one of the cabins on Easterseals Colorado’s sprawling Rocky Mountain Village Camp facility, where Camp Comfort is held.

The Owls were among more than 40 children who spent the weekend at the overnight camp in mid-July. Camp Comfort is running a day camp in Golden this week for families that aren’t ready to send their children away for a weekend, Collins said.

Kacy settled beside Rosie, clutching a stuffed animal in her lap. Jackson sat nearby.

Collins led the sharing session, during which she asked the children to show a photo of their relative who died and to tell the group about them.

Jackson was the second person to volunteer. He passed around a photo of himself with his mom at a Colorado Rockies game.

She died of a rare autoimmune disease, Jackson told the group.

And her name was Stephanie, he said when asked by Collins.

But, Jackson added, “I called her Mom.”

An estimated 1 in 12 children in Colorado will lose a parent or sibling by the time they are 18, according to a report by Judi’s House, a grief nonprofit in Aurora.

Several Owls said they had a parent die. One lost a younger sibling. Others grieved cousins and uncles.

D-Angelo Tuggle, known to the campers as D-Lo, lost his cousin Za’riyah Thomas, who was shot when she was 16. He wasn’t alone; other children said they also had a family member who was murdered.

D-Lo and his cousin, who he called ZZ, used to eat vanilla ice cream with sprinkles and gummy bears together.

“She used to stand up for me,” the 10-year-old told the other children.

But one day, three years ago, D-Lo woke up and his dad was crying. ZZ had died, he said. D-Lo later said it helped to talk about his cousin. Sharing, he said, was “cool.”

A death disrupts a child’s life and can lead to poor outcomes at school, according to the Judi’s House report, which said grief can also increase the risk of other mental health problems, including suicide or substance use.

The U.S. surgeon general has called youth mental health challenges “the defining public health crisis of our time” as suicide rates have increased nationwide and more children report feeling anxious or depressed.

Camp Comfort helps grieving children learn coping skills and teaches them that it’s OK to feel sad or angry after someone they know died, Collins said.

“We want them to express how they are feeling,” she said.

Rap battles, Batman and a sloth

Jayden Lewis, 11, told the Owls he saw his father murdered in front of him and had to call 911.

He also told them that he liked to do rap battles with his dad.

“Before he died, he said we’d make a rap,” Jayden said.

They never got to, but Jayden planned a rap performance for Camp Comfort’s talent show later that night.

Another Owl, Elleese Richmond, told the group her father died of carbon monoxide poisoning.

“I loved how he’d always make these funny jokes that weren’t really funny,” she said.

When she was 5, Elleese said, “I was really depressed.”

A teacher noticed and asked Elleese for one of her dad’s shirts and made it into a teddy bear for the now-11-year-old. Elleese showed the teddy bear to the group and told everyone how her dad used to call his car the “Batmobile.”

“I thought he looked like Batman,” Jayden told Elleese after looking at the photo of her father.

Kacy told the group at the start of the sharing session that her favorite animal was a sloth. What she didn’t tell the other kids was that a sloth became her favorite animal after her mom died. Kacy also didn’t tell them the stuffed animal in her lap — a sloth — came from her mom’s hospital room.

The plushie, aptly named Slothy, was given to Kacy’s mom after she got sick. Their mom used to show Kacy and Jackson her stuffed animals when they visited the hospital. By then, their mom couldn’t really talk, Kacy said.

Slothy is her main coping mechanism, Kacy said.

She was too nervous to talk about their mom during the circle.

“It’s a little hard,” she said later.

‘My dad is too sad’

Kacy and Jackson battled in what she called the “biggest competition ever” as the Owls took to the archery field after lunch.

Jackson scored 17 points. Try to beat that, he told his sister.

“Bet,” Kacy replied.

Kacy was quiet, but confident in her athletic ability. She loved rock climbing and liked the camp’s zip line last year, but it was broken this summer.

She’s a minute older than Jackson. Kacy was also the Owls’ self-proclaimed “taxi,” giving friends piggyback rides.

She kept in contact with friends she met at the camp last year. Some of them also only have one parent, so they have a similar experience, Kacy said.

“You kind of get jealous of other people,” she said. “…They get to hang out with a mom and I don’t, and it makes it hard sometimes.”

At home in Aurora, it’s just Kacy, Jackson and their dad. She’s the only girl living with all boys.

“My dad is too sad to talk about it, so my family doesn’t talk about it to help my dad out,” Kacy said of losing her mom.

Kacy wasn’t ready to share about her mom, but she was for archery.

Her first arrow struck the black ring on the target, the furthest one from the yellow bullseye in the center.

“I think I have to arch my arrow more and up the side,” she said.

Kacy adjusted her bow. The next arrow hit the blue ring, an improvement. She took a deep breath, then fired a third arrow and hit the red ring. Any better and she would have nailed the bullseye.

Her final arrow struck the blue ring again.

“I got more (points) than my brother,” Kacy said.

‘Mixed feelings’

The Owls assembled in a circle again after archery to talk about their feelings. But first, campers needed to finish sharing about their loved ones.

Kacy went last.

She showed the other kids a photo of her and her mom smiling after a run.

“I have a bunch of her active stuff,” Kacy said, adding that she was given her mom’s clothes.

Collins, the camp director, asked Kacy what she missed most about her mom.

“Girl talk,” Kacy said.

She and her mom used to paint their nails together.

“I don’t paint my nails anymore,” Kacy said.

The Owls said grief made them feel sad. They also felt depressed, frustrated, angry and afraid.

“You have mixed feelings, and you don’t know what to show for emotion,” Elleese told the camp director.

Collins asked the children to write a word on a piece of poster board that described how grief made them feel. Kacy knelt and wrote three words. She then sat back on the floor and hugged her knees and held Slothy to her chest.

She’d written that she felt worried, mad and confused.

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