An Eagle Scout

“ 'When in doubt, write,'an English teacher drummed into me long ago. Why is this so important? Because you are changing…and there is nothing more fascinating than to closely observe the process of change and deepening, and how we respond to that quicksilver phenomenon. Bear in mind what the humble humorist James Thurber said when asked why he wrote: “'I don’t know what I think until I read what I have to say'."

-Philip Cousineau, The Art of Pilgrimage

Most of what I write and post here are stories of redemption. This one is not. After more than 50 years this story is still raw and unresolved. Maybe in the writing I will find peace and mercy. I hope so.

I had several good friends growing up and one of them invited me to go to Boy Scouts with him.  So I went.  Within a few weeks I joined Troop 99 and was assigned to the Rattler Patrol with my friend.

The rankings in Boy Scouts are Tenderfoot, Second Class, First Class, Star, Life and Eagle.  On weekend and two  week summer camps I wasted no time advancing through the ranks. By the end of my second year I had earned the status of Life Scout.  And then I did all the work and earned all the merit badges to become Eagle.  All I lacked was my service project and I was making plans to begin that process.

I adored and respected Devon my patrol leader.  He was firm and demanding with his expectations for us, but he was also kind and gracious.  He made sure we had what we needed to become successful. It was a “when I grow up I want to be just like you” situation.

I gained a reputation on our camping trips as the campfire starter.  I gathered wood and kindling from the nearby woods.  I stacked the wood like Lincoln Logs so that with no accelerant and the strike of one match within minutes we had a roaring fire. “Be Prepared” was not only my motto but was becoming my lifestyle.  Besides working my way up the designation ladder, toward the end of my second year I became the assistant patrol leader.  That position was perfect for me.  I had some leadership responsibility but I mostly worked beside Devon to make each scout successful. Then something happened that changed my life. Devon quit scouts and I became the patrol leader. I was apprehensive about the new position and knew that I had been over promoted.  I would not read of The Peter Principle for years, but it certainly applied to me then.

The time came for the first weekend camping trip to Camp Alaflo with me as the patrol leader. I decided as a change from normal camp food I would do something special and prepare one of my favorite foods, fried shrimp. So with my tent, sleeping bag, and clothing I took along a cooker, cooking oil and frozen shrimp.  What could go wrong?

After we arrived at the camp ground and got settled in, I took my patrol on a hike.  After we  had hiked an hour or so, one of our campers stepped on a yellow jacket's nest and got stung several times. So we headed back to camp.  When we got there our scout master was waiting for us. I wondered what I had done wrong.  He took one of our patrol members aside and gently told him that his little brother had been killed and that someone would give him a ride home. It was ridiculous to think any of that was my fault but it felt that way. I was a very sensitive young boy.  Everything got in and I let everything out.

That evening after my fire died to low flames and hot coals, I hung the cooker on  a tripod above the fire. I added the oil and the shrimp.  Everything was going fine until somebody bumped the cooker and spilled it into the  fire.  The burning oil made its way across the ground and into my tent.  The tent was spared but not my sleeping bag.  That night and the next I slept on the ground.

When we got home I did two things. I put all my scout clothes in a drawer and I never went back.  No one called me. My scout master didn’t call. Nobody called. Weeks turned into months turned into years until I was too old to complete the process of becoming Eagle Scout.  As close as I got I’ve never been introduced as Eagle Scout because I never became one.

Now as I read what I wrote, this is what I figured out. I was just a kid. None of that was my fault. The yellow jackets, the death and the fire were not my fault. If it was my fault then I forgive myself and I forgive my scout master too. I'm sure that he felt I quit for my own good reasons. I also realize that whereas I never became an Eagle Scout, I became a lot of other things. Not becoming an Eagle Scout does not define me.  For that matter none  of my other accomplishments define me either. But if you want to refer to my most proud accomplishment, call me grandfather. That’s a designation that goes to the very core of my being. But even that relationship doesn't define me. 

If the Universe gives me the chance to do it all again, will I stay in scouts and complete my Eagle? I don't think so. If I change that, maybe I never become a husband.   If I change that, then maybe I never become a father and a grandfather. If I change that then maybe I'm not sitting in my den pecking away on Blogspot and you aren't reading these words. And that would be a shame because "I don't know what I think until I read what I have to say." Writing about it helps me to see everything In a Different Light.