I was a temporary Boy Scout

B O Y   S C O U T   M E M O R I E S

I so wanted to be a Boy Scout! My best friend Larry, my partner in crime since we were 2 year old terrors living next door to each other and spending all day each day driving our mothers to drink and an early grace, to hear them talk about it, had been going to Cub Scouts at his family’s church. He invited me to go, but since we weren’t Lutherans, I wasn’t sure I would fit in. He kept asking, though, and I finally agreed to go with him.

The den met in the Family Hall at the Lutheran Church, an imposing structure for an 8 year old boy, maybe for an adult as well, at the time, although I don’t know. The only Lutheran’s I knew of were Larry’s parents, neither of whom was large or impressive. Larry was even taller and skinnier than I was at the time, and people often said I needed “to stand twice to make a shadow”!  I was properly intimidated when I walked into the cavernous hall, to join several dozen boys my age in learning the mysteries of scouting. Most of the boys had uniform shirts and hats, ribbons and braid festooning them like military decorations. I wanted my own shirt and hat, too, but that would have to wait, I found out, until I had filled out an application and paid the fees and dues.

The Scout pack was working on knots that night, and I was soon sitting among a group of other boys as perplexed at the complexities of tying knots as I was. We each had a length of rope, a book demonstrating the techniques of knotting and a buddy to work with. I tied every variation of “granny” knot known to man that night, eventually collapsing in gales of laughter at my inability to master the bow hitch and the other knots I had never even known existed. The Scout leader made the rounds, demonstrating the steps to each group and commenting on the efforts displayed as each boy tried to perform the skills necessary to meet the requirements for the badge. Larry and I worked together, egging each other on as we were used to doing in our other daily lives. Neither of us made any measurable gains in knot-tying skills, but we had a great time.

When I got home that evening, I told my dad I didn?t think I was cut out for scouting, because I couldn?t learn the knots. He laughed and told me it wasn?t nearly as hard as I thought, then spent the next hour guiding me through a series of increasingly difficult knots, including the bow hitch, that he had learned when he was in the Navy. I still remember that night, the stories he told me about being in the Navy and the knots, especially that darned hitch, a knot I still use to this day! I only went to a few more Scout pack meetings, and then we moved to another town, and, since I didn?t know anyone, I had no reason go to any more Scout meetings.