It was a day like any other; the gleaming reflection of the radiant sun in my eyes, the familiar cool breeze playing with my light hair, and the coarse yellow sand between my toes. The golden sun had risen along with the birds, fish, and other wildlife. A twenty-one year old chap whose figure I could barely identify through the green brush was walking down a path. The path was all too well known to the staff. The man's name was Boz. Boz was the Aquatics Director at camp Liberty. At first glance, one might say he is similar to an army drill sergeant. Boz had many of the physical attributes…
