Remembering Tom Bifarella

Last weekend, I heard the heartbreaking news that one of our longtime volunteers, Tom Biferalla, had passed away. Tom was someone who played an instrumental role in helping Camp Good Days become what it is today.

I hadn’t seen Tom in about a year and knew he had been dealing with some health challenges. Still, hearing the news stopped me in my tracks. It made me reflect on just how much he meant to this place—and to me personally.

For many years, Tom was one of those dependable volunteers who was always there when we needed something. No task was too big or too small. Whether it was picking something up from the store, mailing a package, or sitting with a camper who wasn’t feeling well—Tom would quietly step in and take care of it. He never asked for thanks or recognition. He simply saw a need and filled it.

Tom truly loved Camp. He loved the children. He believed in our mission, and that belief showed in the way he consistently showed up. I’ll always remember seeing him at Camp or on our trips to Orlando—always present, always willing, always helping. He never needed to be in the spotlight. He just wanted to make a difference—and he did.

The best way I can describe Tom is that he was a good person with a good heart. A true gentleman. Spiritual, kind, and selfless. He worked hard, cared deeply, and never hesitated to step up when something needed to be done. If there was a gap to fill or a role that needed covering, Tom would be there—without hesitation, without fuss.

One memory that stays with me is from our outdoor Services of Remembrance. Tom would quietly bring his guitar and play music during the service. He never made a show of it. He simply played and, in doing so, made those moments more meaningful for everyone there.

I’ve always believed the good Lord places certain people in your life at just the right time to help you fulfill your purpose. Tom was one of those people for me. He helped build Camp Good Days—not with grand gestures, but with steady, humble, faithful service. He wasn’t a “mucky muck.” He wasn’t a “big name.” He was just a regular guy who gave what he had, and that’s what Camp Good Days was built on—people like Tom. People who didn’t talk about doing things. They just did them.

I believe Tom is now with our Camp Good Days family in Heaven. And I believe with all my heart that he’s still asking, “What can I do?”—because that’s just who he was.

Thank you, Tom—for your kindness, your time, your faith, and your heart. Camp wouldn’t be what it is today without you. The care you put into every quiet task and every small moment helped shape this place into something truly special. And because of that, everyone who has walked—and will walk—through our gates will continue to feel the difference you made.

We’ll miss you dearly, but we’ll never forget you.