Welcome to Green Chimneys: a sanctuary where troubled children and harmed animals recover together and blossom

Interview, Feb, 1994 by Dayle Haddon

Green Chimneys is a 150-acre farm in Brewster, New York, sixty miles north of Manhattan. It's home to 102 innercity children. For many of them their stays began as the end of the line but really are a new beginning. The premise of Green Chimneys is to put children who have been abused or are from broken homes together with animals that have been abandoned or harmed. A healing process occurs, giving them both a second chance.

I found Green Chimneys, or rather I should say it found me, when I accompanied two friends who were planning to write a screenplay on this unique farm and its founder, Sam Ross.

We arrived there at lunchtime. The children were seated in the cafeteria, circled around tables in groups of ten. I did not know what to expect, but I certainly did not expect so much joy. Laughter bounced between tables as the kids ate their food and traded stories. It was instantly infectious.

My friends located Sam Ross, who organized a small group of children to sing the school song. I was drawn to a tall, thin boy about twelve years old. He was so focused. Each time he sang, he sang out until there was no air left inside, and each time he inhale with such determination that he grew a little taller.

"Was you in a movie with Van Damme?" I was jolted out of my reverie by this question from a small boy, about ten, who was staring me in the face. "Was you in Cyborg?" he asked. "Well, yes, I was," I answered, and suddenly he was gone. Within seconds two more kids came over, then three and four. They wanted to know: "Is it true? You played in a movie? With Van Damme?" The table was now full of sprawling boys firing questions at me, not waiting for an answer, and bantering back and forth with one another: "What was he like? How'd he do that? That movie was dope." "It wasn't about dope," I answered. Patiently, as if speaking to a child, one of them explained, "No, see ... dope means 'good.' It's just a saying." I was reminded I was in another world and was surprised to find I was a "movie star" to these children because of a film I would love to forget. I guess it was good for my humility. Meanwhile, throughout all this intense, boisterous questioning, I felt a gentle tug on my sleeve.

"Can I be the one to show you the farm?" It was Jerry; about eleven, he was sensitive and persistent. "Now? Now can I show you?" Jerry never left my side that day. He led me into the barn. As soft-spoken as he was, I saw a distinct change when he came in contact with his assigned animals. They depended on him, and he was proud of them. He became much more self-assured. He gently but firmly lifted one of his rabbits out of the pen, whispering to her, stroking her long white fur. He extended her toward me and said, "See how soft she is. Touch her." He explained to me how often he had to feed her and what she ate. But he was most proud of Lucy, his goat. She knew him immediately and came bounding up to him, stretching out her head to be scratched. With a sense of ownership and great indulgence, he laughed at her antics, gently but firmly pushing her away as she snuggled into his sleeve. "I raised her from a baby," he said simply.

We walked around the back of the dormitories, where the farm actually began. Jerry took my hand and led me up to the woods. Among the trees were large wire-mesh pens. In the first one, a magnificent bald eagle hopped from one tree limb to another, locking us in his sight. "He's from the Valdez oil spill," said Jerry. "He lost his wing when it got covered with oil, so he can't fly now." He pointed to the wooden sign describing the bird. "I made that," Jerry said proudly. "We shouldn't get too close. He gets scared." Farther along I saw vultures, a variety of hawks, owls, injured sea gulls, and an Andean condor being raised to return to the wild. Jerry showed me the horses that the children rode, including Doc and Duke. We stopped to look at two fawns in an outer pen. "They're orphans," he said. "We're going to release them when they're strong."

I later found out that when one of the children is ready to leave Green Chimneys, the residents hold a group ceremony and release one of the animals that has recuperated as a symbol of the child's own achievement.

Since that day, I have returned many times to Green Chimneys and have never come away from the place without a sense of being given a great treasure. A look, an exchange, a moment of joy or laughter, the sharing of an accomplishment, a hand in mine.

Sam Ross, the indefatigable founder, a loving, joyful dynamo, has been working with children at Green Chimneys for forty-six years and still has kept his enthusiasm. His simple premise is that each child needs something or someone to relate to--whether it is a teacher, a counselor, or an animal--for that child to have a chance in life. And for the many who have learned how to care and grow and be responsible through their relationships with animals at Green Chimneys, this has meant a new beginning.

tommy, ten

Abandoned at birth, Tommy has been in many foster homes and through several different school systems. When he arrived at Green Chimneys, he was described as having a jumble of conflicting rules, with no ability to withstand stress and no sense of his past.