6-Year-Old’s First Day of Camp Turns into Tragedy: New Jersey Family Devastated

What started as an exciting summer adventure for young Michael Stewart ended in tragedy. This incident has raised serious concerns about the camp’s safety measures and has led to a full investigation.

On Monday, at Liberty Lake Day Camp in Burlington County, New Jersey, six-year-old Michael Jeffrey Stewart drowned on his very first day of camp. This heartbreaking news has left Michael’s family in deep grief and has shocked the whole community.

Michael’s mother, Enjoli Stewart, shared her deep sadness and frustration with the camp. “Liberty Lakes messed up. Big time. And now I don’t have a son anymore. That’s heartbreaking,” she told FOX 29.

Michael had been looking forward to his first day at the camp, not knowing it would be his last. He was set to attend the camp for several weeks, and Enjoli had spent thousands of dollars to ensure he had the best experience. She said:

“I did everything I could to make sure he was placed in the right school and the right camp.”

Facebook/Kayla Ogletree

The incident happened during the afternoon swim period for campers who were entering first and second grades.

Camp officials reported that a lifeguard found Michael unresponsive in a shallow pool. The lifeguard quickly pulled him out of the water and tried to perform CPR.

Despite the attempts to save him, Michael was pronounced dead at a local hospital later that day.

Michael’s life was a fight from the beginning. Born as a micro-preemie at just 23 weeks and weighing only one pound and three ounces, doctors had not expected him to survive.

Despite the odds, Michael defied expectations with his mother’s relentless advocacy and unwavering faith. He grew into a bright, loving, and caring boy whose resilience and passion for learning won the hearts of everyone who knew him.

“Michael taught me how to fight and he taught me to fight without using my hands,” Enjoli said. “He taught me how to fight in a different manner.”

Michael was especially close to his younger sister, Layla. They enjoyed playing basketball and baseball together. Enjoli described her son as “extremely smart,” with an impressive vocabulary.

Facebook/Kayla Ogletree

Enjoli described Michael as a curious child who loved learning new things. He was excited about starting piano classes, which were next on his summer to-do list.

Liberty Lake Day Camp, which had just opened for the summer on the day of the incident, expressed their sorrow in a statement.

Camp founder Andy Pritikin wrote, “All of us at Liberty Lake Day Camp are devastated and grieving over the tragic passing of our young camper. This senseless tragedy took a life that was far too young. There are no words that feel appropriate enough to capture our heartache and mourning.”

Michael’s mother was talking to a coworker about her son’s excitement for the camp when she received the heartbreaking news.

“Someone asked me how my day was going, and I told them about Michael and how he fell asleep the night before with his goggles on,” she said. “He was so excited about swimming, and then my phone rang. I was told I needed to rush to Mount Holly-Virtua.”

The Burlington County Prosecutor’s Office and Mansfield Township police are investigating the incident. An autopsy was conducted on Tuesday by the Burlington County medical examiner.

Enjoli has raised concerns about the camp’s safety protocols. She noted that Michael, a beginner swimmer, was supposed to be in an instructional swim class, but it did not take place.

She also pointed out that Michael was assigned a one-on-one aide who was meant to be with him at all times. However, that aide is still employed at the camp.

Pritikin acknowledged that typically, staff members do not conduct instructional swim classes on the first day of camp.

The camp employs 25 lifeguards certified in first aid, CPR, and the use of AEDs, as well as three registered nurses.

Despite these measures, Enjoli believes more should have been done to prevent her son’s death. She suggested that, out of respect for her family, the camp should have closed the pool for 24 to 48 hours following the incident.

However, Pritikin stated that experts advised continuing camp activities, emphasizing that the safety and well-being of campers and staff are their top priorities.

Michael was a rising first-grade student in the Lumberton School District. The district released a statement expressing their deepest condolences to the Stewart family.

In support of the family, a lemonade stand fundraiser will be held at the Old Fire House on Main Street in Lumberton on Saturday. This event is especially meaningful because Michael loved making lemonade and hosting lemonade stands in his neighborhood.

Additionally, a GoFundMe campaign has been set up to help the Stewart family with funeral and memorial expenses. The campaign highlights Michael’s remarkable journey, from his premature birth to his joyful life.

Michael was a rising first-grade student in the Lumberton School District. The district released a statement offering their deepest condolences to the Stewart family.

To support the family, a lemonade stand fundraiser will be held at the Old Fire House on Main Street in Lumberton on Saturday. This event is especially meaningful because Michael loved making lemonade and hosting lemonade stands in his neighborhood.

Additionally, a GoFundMe campaign has been set up to help the Stewart family with funeral and memorial expenses. The campaign highlights Michael’s remarkable journey from his premature birth to his joyful life.

The campaign organizer shared how doctors initially gave Michael little chance of survival. “Michael’s mother refused to believe that, and with every ounce of her strength, advocacy, and faith, fought for his life,” the campaign states.

Seeing Michael grow into a wonderful little boy filled Enjoli’s heart with joy. Unfortunately, that joy was cut short. Michael is remembered for his kindness and his heart of gold.

Facebook/Kayla Ogletree

Not only was Michael a loving presence for his mother and younger sister, but he also touched the lives of everyone around him.

“The family is in need of a lot of support at this time, as you can imagine,” the GoFundMe campaign states. “We are asking for your help in raising money for Michael Jeffrey and his family so that he can be given the funeral and memorial services that he deserves to honor his life. Anything you can give to the family is much appreciated.”

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The update also mentioned another GoFundMe campaign started by Lumberton Township in response to the tragedy.

The Stewart family expressed their gratitude for this additional support and encouraged people to contribute to any of the fundraising campaigns.

In response to the incident, Liberty Lake Day Camp has made its clinical social worker available for counseling to those affected. The camp has also pledged to continue its summer program with a heightened emphasis on safety measures.

We Played a Game Answering Calls and Texts with Family on Thanksgiving — I Accidentally Exposed My Husband’s Second Family

What started as a playful Thanksgiving game turned into Mary’s worst nightmare. When a mysterious text on her husband Emmett’s phone mentioned a daughter she’d never heard of, Mary’s world spiraled. Her investigation uncovers a shocking double life—a second family, complete with a wife and teenage daughter.

Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday. There’s something magical about gathering the people you love the most, laughing over turkey and stuffing and spilled gravy, and sharing stories that never seem to grow old.

This year, my family decided to try something a little different: a phone game we’d seen in a movie.

A Thanksgiving dinner | Source: Midjourney

A Thanksgiving dinner | Source: Midjourney

The rules were simple.

Everyone placed their phones in the center of the table, and whenever one buzzed, the person whose turn it was would answer or read the message aloud. It sounded harmless and hilarious, and you know, just a way to spice up the evening.

My husband, Emmett, and I have been married for 25 years. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, with salt-and-pepper hair and a charming smile that’s disarmed me since the day we met on our college campus.

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

I’ve been a little plain compared to him, with my curly brown hair that rarely cooperates and a fondness for sweaters that my kids tease me about.

Emmett, with his tailored shirts and polished shoes, always seemed to be the one who turned heads.

That night, the table was buzzing with energy as we piled our phones into the center and took turns reading texts aloud. When Emmett’s phone buzzed during my turn, I grabbed it with a laugh, expecting something mundane, like a work email or a reminder about a bill.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

Instead, the screen displayed a message that made my blood run cold.

Don’t forget, on Thursday, we’re moving Eliza’s things for her performance. Excited for our daughter’s premiere, Em!

I froze.

Daughter?

A lit screen on a phone | Source: Midjourney

A lit screen on a phone | Source: Midjourney

We didn’t have a daughter named Eliza. There was no performance on Thursday, nor any premieres that I knew of. I stared at the message, my stomach churning.

But everyone was watching, waiting for me to share the text. My palms were sweating, and my pulse was racing. I wanted to scream.

Thinking fast, I scrolled to an older, innocuous text about a phone bill and read it aloud instead.

A woman sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney

“Looks like we need to update the plan on this number, babe,” I said, forcing a smile.

“Damn, I was hoping Emmett would get something juicy!” his brother, Jacob, laughed.

The table laughed together for a moment, and the game continued, but I was spiraling inside.

A man sitting at a table and laughing | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting at a table and laughing | Source: Midjourney

Why would Emmett be so careless? I remembered him fumbling with his phone earlier, mumbling something about needing to call a client.

“I’ll be back in a second, Mary. I just need to sort this out quickly—it’s about a meeting for next week. Plate up for the kids though,” he had said.

At the time, I hadn’t thought twice. Maybe he’d been too distracted to realize how risky this game was.

A man using his phone | Source: Midjourney

A man using his phone | Source: Midjourney

That night, I barely slept. Every single time I closed my eyes, I saw the words from that text.

Daughter? Performance?

My mind raced with so many questions. Who was Eliza? What was Emmett hiding?

Who was Emmett hiding?

And why?

A woman laying in bed | Source: Midjourney

A woman laying in bed | Source: Midjourney

The next morning, while Emmett was out walking Lila, our dog, before heading off to work, I found the address attached to the follow-up text message. It was all the details about the performance.

Picking up my notebook, I took down the address and the number belonging to a woman named Alice.

Then, I got into my car and punched it in. According to my GPS, the address led to a school theater in a nearby town. I didn’t want to drive there — not yet.

A notebook and phone on a table | Source: Midjourney

A notebook and phone on a table | Source: Midjourney

But soon, I’d know the truth. Thursday would come. Soon.

Instead, I went to work.

I felt beyond ridiculous pulling into the parking lot on Thursday evening, but curiosity and suspicion firmly had their claws in me. Inside the theater, the dim lights illuminated a stage where a teenage girl, around 16, was performing a ballet solo.

A girl performing a ballet routine | Source: Midjourney

A girl performing a ballet routine | Source: Midjourney

She had long, dark hair tied back in a neat bun, and her confidence radiated from the stage.

My breath caught when the music stopped, and she bowed. She looked just like Emmett.

In the audience, I spotted him sitting beside a woman holding a bouquet of flowers. They both looked proud, their smiles glowing as they watched their girl perform.

As if I could hear it, my heart cracked open in my chest.

A woman holding a bouquet of roses | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a bouquet of roses | Source: Midjourney

When the performance ended and Emmett stepped away, I forced myself to approach the woman. My legs felt like lead, but my voice was steady when I spoke.

“Hello, I’m Emmett’s wife, Mary,” I said.

Her face went pale immediately, the color drained from her face before I could blink.

“Excuse me, what?” she gasped.

A woman holding a bouquet of roses | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a bouquet of roses | Source: Midjourney

It turns out that this was Alice, and she and Emmett had been married for 20 years.

20 years.

She had no idea about me or our family.

“He told me that work was demanding, Mary. He made it known when we met years ago. I didn’t question it because a job is a job, and it’s important, you know? I also wasn’t working at the time, so Emmett was supporting me. How could I question his job when I didn’t have one?”

I was silent for a moment.

A man in a suit | Source: Midjourney

A man in a suit | Source: Midjourney

“He said that the holidays were the worst for him. I never thought to question it.”

Neither had I.

Whenever Emmett mentioned work or business meetings, I didn’t ask anything beyond where he was staying and when he’d be back. Then, I would help him pack his clothes and pack enough snacks for his trip.

Look at my life now…

Containers of food on a counter | Source: Midjourney

Containers of food on a counter | Source: Midjourney

The next day, Alice and I met at a coffee shop. We pieced together Emmett’s double life over matcha lattes neither of us finished.

We learned that he had been moving Alice and their daughter, Eliza, closer to his “primary residence” while claiming work required him to travel frequently.

He’d built two entire lives — one with me and our three children, and another with Alice and Eliza.

Lattes on a table | Source: Midjourney

Lattes on a table | Source: Midjourney

Alice was petite with short, caramel-colored hair and kind eyes, but there was an edge of hurt and anger in her gaze that mirrored my own.

I could see her hesitation when we first sat down, as if she wasn’t sure whether to trust me.

“I almost didn’t come, Mary,” she admitted. “I wasn’t sure if you were part of this… scheme. I know it sounds so bad, but nothing feels real anymore.”

A woman sitting in a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney

I sighed, nodding.

“I understand exactly what you mean,” I said. “But trust me, I’ve been in the dark as much as you… Do you know that last night, when I sat across from him at dinner, he looked so unfamiliar? It was like I hadn’t seen him before.”

She nodded.

“But I think we both deserve answers and justice.”

A woman sitting in a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney

She nodded again, and from that moment, Alice and I were allies.

Over the next few weeks, Alice and I stayed in touch, sharing more details and uncovering more lies than we had ever thought possible.

We realized that we weren’t just two victims of Emmett’s deceit — we were the heads of two families connected by his betrayal.

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

“The most difficult part is coming, Mary,” Alice told me on the phone one day.

“I know. Telling the kids is going to be… devastating.”

And sure enough, getting our kids involved was the hardest part. My grown children — Mark, 23, Cami, 21, and Jenelle, 18 — were furious and confused.

Jenelle cried for days; suddenly, she wasn’t the last born. Suddenly, she wasn’t the apple of her father’s eye.

An upset girl | Source: Midjourney

An upset girl | Source: Midjourney

Mark paced the living room, constantly cursing Emmett’s name. Cami was the only one who remained nonchalant.

“What do you want me to say, Mom?” she asked when I went into her bedroom to check on her. “The others have always been closer to Dad. I’m just the middle child.”

“I want you to tell me how you feel, darling,” I said.

An angry young man | Source: Midjourney

An angry young man | Source: Midjourney

“I don’t… care. It’s disgusting that he did this to you and Alice. What self-respecting man does this to two women? Two families? I don’t care what he does, but he’s not my father anymore.”

Alice’s daughter, Eliza, was blindsided, and her teenage world came crumbling down at her feet. It turned out that she and Emmett were really close. She couldn’t take the heartbreak when she discovered the truth.

Eventually, after long conversations and reassurances, we convinced the kids to join us for a joint “celebration” under the guise of blending families.

A nonchalant young woman | Source: Midjourney

A nonchalant young woman | Source: Midjourney

Emmett arrived at the restaurant, unaware of what awaited him. When he stepped into the room, his confident stride faltered. His face twisted as his gaze darted between me, Alice, and our children, all standing together.

“Your deceit ends today, Emmett. We all deserve better. You’re pathetic.”

Emmett stammered, his usual charisma failing him for once.

“I can… explain,” he began.

The interior of a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

The interior of a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

“No, you’re a horrible excuse for a father and husband, and we’re not interested in your excuses,” Mark said.

Emmett sputtered, attempting to spin a tale about “complicated feelings” and wanting to “keep everyone happy,” but the united strength of both families left him speechless.

In the weeks that followed, Alice and I worked together to untangle the mess Emmett left behind. We sought legal counsel to address any and all financial matters, ensuring our families’ futures were secure.

A lawyer sitting at her desk | Source: Midjourney

A lawyer sitting at her desk | Source: Midjourney

Unsurprisingly, Emmett tried to fight back. He claimed he’d acted out of love and that it was fine to love more than one person. But honestly, going the legal route was the best we could have done. His bank statements, travel logs, and more left him with little ground to stand on.

Ultimately, he slunk away, defeated.

My kids struggled to process the betrayal—Cami too, although she pretended she was fine. I spent many sleepless nights sitting on my window seat, questioning everything I thought I knew.

A man standing in a hallway with suitcases | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in a hallway with suitcases | Source: Midjourney

Therapy helped a bit, as did Alice’s support. Eliza and Jenelle worked through their pain together. Over time, Alice and I built a strong friendship — one silver lining in an otherwise dark cloud.

Our children, despite the strange circumstances, began forming sibling-like bonds. They leaned on each other, finding strength in their shared pain.

Thanksgiving will never be the same.

But we’ve created new traditions, ones rooted in honesty and mutual respect. Emmett’s betrayal shattered our families, but in the aftermath, we found something unexpected: a new family.

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney

What would you have done?

If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you:

Greg thought he and Natalie had figured out the whole co-parenting thing — until a late-night phone call shattered that illusion with news he never saw coming.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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