2000-12-02 - 19:25 MST

December 2, 2000

On My Honor

Once there was a small boy named Doug who had a chance to go with a friend to a Boy Scout meeting at a nearby church. A new world began to open its doors to him. He saw the possibility that he could learn to do some of the things the other boys could do. He kept going to meetings and became a Tenderfoot Boy Scout, and began to learn and take part in the activities, becoming something of an expert at knot tying - a snap 'cause he already knew how to tie his tongue into all kinds of twisted knots.

He also began to think of himself as an equal to his peers, and for an only child that was a step up.

So this Doug -- me, had the Handbook, the badge and the Scout knife and was working on getting a neckerchief when that troop died. I will never know why, but it just was not there anymore. I kept studying the handbook and learned things that would not be encountered in any other way. Precepts and ideals sank in to me, and remain with me to this day -- the troop died, but I didn't. Not much opportunity in the depression to find a Scout troop anywhere, so my activities were solo.

Fast forward to the time Heather and I were experiencing our early marriage lessons. Her younger brother and I had bonded long before I had popped the question to Heather (Anybody for popped questions ? Need salt ? A bowl maybe ? How about some hot chestnuts ?) As heather and I were learning the ropes, brother-in-law's friend persuaded him to be an Assistant Scoutmaster, I followed along as an observer but not attending. The friend was transferred to another city. My brother-in-law became the Scoutmaster. You know where I am going, don't you ? I was persuaded to become the Assistant Scooutmaster. I was easy, being on the sidelines and hoping that this troop survived and willing to put some of my time into it.

It wasn't too hard for me -- a bit of a review in the handbook and on the procedures, and having the hand eye coordination as well as the learned skills from my work. The memory of knot tying came back quick too. That troop didn't last too long either -- when the elders of the church finally figured out that Sunday at camp-outs only about fifteen minutes was devoted to a non-sectarian religious service, and that we were not about to change that -- the troop was officially laid to rest, the last words were said over its coffin.

My brother-in-law and I had the opportunity to spend a full weekend in the mountains along with other scouters in a kind of training session. It was conducted by several professional scouters from way higher up, from back east. The neat thing was that aside from being high up on the ladder, they were interested in Scouting on the "boy" level. Over that weekend many things were shown, demonstrated and then turned over to us for hands on learning. Ideas were presented to us that had never entered out mind in regard to scouting. Their expertise in "boy think" was right on the money and their passed on enthusiasm and esprit de corps sank in deeply.

After the demise of another troop, I still had the handbook (updated then) and still dipped into it now and then, with no definite aim in mind other than keeping myself on the right track

Fast forward again. Our first born was at the age where he could be a Cub Scout, and living in a fairly new neighborhood with no Scout troop or any other BSA organization near by, men of the neighborhood who had once been scouts canvassed the neighborhood to find a woman to be a Den Mother. Heather with a son 10 years old, a daughter 6 years old, a daughter 5 years old and a son 3 years old thought, "Yeah, I can do that," and she did do that. Our son, of course was glad to be in the line to become a Scout. Not that I had ever preached the BSA line to him, in fact in my own mind it was something that would work out for awhile and then die.

Now then, I was the husband of a Den Mother and became involved in helping her where help was needed. I became acquainted with the boys, liked them and they became used to me.

Trying to sort things out mentally here, there was a period where those boys grew to the age of Webelos and I was ramrodded into being their Den Dad. Along the way Heather became interested in the Brownie Girl Scouts in our neighborhood and as the girls got old enough, they went into Heather's group.

I was a Den Dad for a short time, until the Webelos grew to the age that they could go into a troop. But no troop in the neighborhood. Some of the men knew I had once been an Assistant Scoutmaster in Denver and gently put it to me, "These boys are now Scout age and we don't have a troop for them to go into." And then, "They are doing so well in Webelos, know you and like you." Comes the snapper, "Why don't you become the Scoutmaster of a new troop out here ?" Foregone conclusion, Scoutmaster I became, endeavoring to keep some kind of Scouting alive . . . . .especially seeing that the boys were growing at a much faster rate than the kids who weren't in the Webelos Den. From being unsure, timid, shaky little boys they were gaining self confidence and skills much more rapidly than the other kids their age.

Between working a job, being Scoutmaster and trying to organize a committee of adults to support the troop activities, I was to say the least busy. The troop became a livig thing and our group was doing quite well, having hikes, overnight camping -- the works, going to Courts of Honor and local Camporees the whole schmear.

Heather was doing her Brownie activities and taking the little boy toddler along with her, (Sort of an honorary Brownie).

Scouting occupied our life for some years, When the troop grew old enough to be Explorer Scouts, I was with the Explorer Troop then and Heather was doing the Brownie / Girl Scout stuff.

We entered a difficult time of existence and I had to start working two jobs and gradually others took over my Scouting activities out our way. Finally our emigration back to our home town of Denver became a reality and we left good friends and fond memories behind, ruefuly.

Our son had gone to the Jamboree at Valley Forge using the money he had earned to do it. It was difficult to leave, but it had to be.

When we got settled in, son went into Scouting in Denver, and finally went into the Order of the Arrow. Younger son attended troop meetings for a while, but just wasn't really interested. I did Merit Badge Counselling for a while, mainly on the Morse Code as I was a Ham Radio Operator, but on several other things as well.

So our kids grew up, graduated school, worked jobs, got married and moved away from home. None of our kids children went into Scouting, I don't know why not. But as a former Scout Master I had seen two brothers who had come into our troop to please their father (a co worker of mine) but brought their ball and gloves every where they went. They tried hard to be Scouts but their interest was in baseball. I told their dad that they would probably be happier in a Little League than in the Scouts. They joyfully dropped out of the troop and played Little League happily. Our Senior Patrol Leader (I think I remember the right term) had to make a choice also, he was in band at high school and could not do both. School functions where the band had to play required so much of his time that he told me, "I play an instrument well and plan on making music my career, so I have to make the choice of dropping out of Scouting to enhance my music." There was no way I would have tried to keep him with the troop. Interest and other activities often have priorities.

That may possibly be why my kid's children never went into Scouting. Their time was taken up with so many other activities that there was no room for it. I know that is why my young grandson dropped out, he has been very active in team sports from early grade school and his friends have been too.

In recent days, media and political correctness as well as rigid religious ideas on life styles have caused financial support to be withdrawn from the Boy Scouts of America by many organizations from the fear that they will be accused of backing and promoting lifestyles not consistent with some groupthink existing now.

All my life I have coexisted with people different than I am. When people would tell me, "You shouldn't pal around with him, he is - - - - - - - insert words that please you there because all the bigoted phrases ever said have been thrown at me for association with people who were different one way or another, race, color, ancestry, status, physical disability, and gender issues. I associated with good people, regardless of the aforementioned differences. As long as they were of good will, friendly and didn't try to make me over in their image like some people of other organizations did -- I could see absolutely no reason to listen to that sort of talk against them and quietly went my way.

One person I am in contact with now on the web who I think has the same attitude is Bev Sykes, further more she is extremely active in trying to help those in need of help, with a mind as open as her heart. It is not just me . . . . . ."On My Honor . . . . . . . . "

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