No parent should have to ask whether their child will come home from summer camp. And yet, in Alabama today, that is a question we can no longer afford not to ask.
Last summer, I had to tell my daughters that their best friend wouldn’t be coming home. They deeply loved Sarah Marsh, and so did I. Just as we love her amazing brother John and her parents, Jill and Patrick. Until that day, my oldest daughter also loved summer camp. I want both of them to love it again.
I want to start by thanking Representative Faulkner and the Alabama House for its unanimous support of this bill. That vote sent a clear message that protecting our children is not partisan. It’s a shared priority. We are also deeply grateful to Senate leadership for recognizing the urgency of this issue and placing this bill on the calendar today.
I will never pretend to understand what the Marshes have been through over the past eight months or what they must now endure until they are reunited with Sarah. But I would like to try my best to share with you who Sarah was to my family and why this legislation is so critically important to all camp families.
Sarah Marsh was the best friend I prayed for from the moment I learned I was pregnant with my oldest daughter. I knew I would love Sarah before I even met her. My daughter’s kindergarten teacher asked me one day if I knew the Marshes because they had a daughter in another kindergarten class, and in her words, she and my daughter were “going to be trouble.” And they were—they were the best kind of trouble.
I had the honor of getting to know Sarah over the next three years, first as one of her Girl Scout troop leaders, then as a neighbor. And by last summer, she and all the Marshes felt like family.
Some of my favorite memories are of Sarah knocking on our front door and my kids sprinting out after her before I could even make it to the foyer. They would run from house to house gathering kids, Sarah always in the lead. They would make up cheers in our next door neighbors’ yard, make up dances in my driveway, and create friendship bracelets to wear while they were away at their respective summer camps.
I remember one day when Sarah led a group of girls to ask my oldest to play. My then 3-year-old chased after them and started to cry because she couldn’t keep up. Before I could step in, Sarah had already turned back.
As the other girls continued ahead, Sarah took one of her hands, my oldest took the other, and they walked with my youngest at her pace. I snapped a picture of that moment that I will cherish forever. Because that’s who Sarah was. Even at such a young age, she truly saw people and met them exactly where they were. And she led others to do the same.
She loved all of us, kids and adults, for exactly who we are, flaws and all. The night before Sarah left for camp, Sarah and my oldest begged for one last night together. So Jill, Patrick, and I took the kids to dinner. It was a perfect night.
Sarah, John, and my girls sat at a table next to ours. They ordered way too much food, spilled drinks, and were way too loud. We all laughed until our stomachs hurt. We stayed up late that night talking and laughing. Sarah described with so much excitement and pride all the things she would do while she was at camp, my daughter promised to send notes and candy, and we all made plans for a slumber party as soon as she was back.
I remember sitting there thinking how grateful I was — for those neighbors and for the promise of lifelong friendships for my girls. We were all just so happy.
Sarah never came home from that camp. Instead, less than a week later, my daughter lost her best friend. I lost someone I loved like a daughter. And the Marsh family — Jill, Patrick, and John — lost everything.
That type of loss is unthinkable. It is also preventable. The Sarah Marsh Heaven’s 27 Camp Safety Act won’t bring Sarah back, but it will prevent another Alabama family from experiencing what my friends and 25 other families experienced and continue to experience every day.
The Act strengthens Alabama’s long-standing camp tradition by establishing the state’s first uniform emergency preparedness standards for overnight youth camps. At its core, this bill is about peace of mind for every parent who sends their child to camp trusting they will come home safe.
This legislation sets baseline standards — mandatory staff background checks, required safety training, clear emergency protocols, and basic supervision requirements. These are not burdensome regulations. They are the bare minimum that every parent dropping their child off at a camp has the right to expect is already in place. They are the bare minimum that I never questioned when I dropped my daughter off at camp.
We are blessed with incredible camps in Alabama, and every one of them wants to do right by their campers. This bill simply ensures that they do.
My daughter has spent the last two summers at an Alabama camp. Every time I watched her walk into her cabin, I told myself she would be safe. I believed that. I needed to believe that. Every parent does. But parents in this state deserve more than belief. They deserve certainty.
They deserve to know that someone has checked the background of every adult supervising their child. That staff has been trained for emergencies. That if something goes wrong, there is a plan, and that everyone tasked with protecting our kids knows what that plan is.
The unfortunate reality is that for every camp family there is a before July 4, 2025, and there is an after. In the after, we have had to grapple with the questions we never knew to ask. And we must know those answers before we send our kids to camp this summer.
With only a few legislative days remaining, there is no time to wait. Our children’s safety cannot be delayed. Twenty-six families sent their daughters to camp last summer expecting to bring them home. They did not. Don’t let another family say goodbye for the last time at camp drop-off.
Today, this bill has already passed the House and cleared the Senate committee with strong support. Now is the moment to finish this work. We urge every senator to vote yes today on House Bill 381 and send this bill to the Governor’s desk.
For Sarah. For my daughters. And for every child in Alabama who deserves to come home.
Anne Miles Golson is a family friend of the Marsh family.
