One Scout’s Honor

Scouting builds character. Maybe that’s why people referred to me as a character.

My tenure in the Boy Scouts of America was so transient that when I wracked my brain for the specifics, I couldn’t recall the timeframe. I texted my mother, asking, “Do you remember when and for how long I was a Boy Scout?” Her simple response was “You were a Boy Scout?”

During the 11 years my family lived in New Jersey, I was never a huge “joiner.” I didn’t participate in Little League, my experiences at sleepaway camp were abysmal, and scouting fell so far under the radar that I have scant memories.

I mostly liked to read comic books. My father had hung a tire on a rope and banged a few boards onto the tree in our backyard to create a makeshift treehouse. When my mother asked me to go outside, I climbed the tree and read my comics there.

One afternoon, my friend Jimmy said we couldn’t play after school because he had a scout meeting at his house. He might have mentioned the Boy Scouts prior to that. But Jimmy never wore his uniform to school, like some other kids.

I’d seen posters hung around the school and was aware that our neighborhood had an active Scout troop. In the 1970s, scouting was spread via word-of-mouth, fliers and mailings, and school assemblies where scout troops demonstrated their latest activities. Since lanyard…