The price of wisdom is innocence. So, I have definitely become wiser but sadly a little less innocent. ~ Mahira Khan
I was a trusting, somewhat gullible, ambitious individual just bristling with blind virtue, and an over-developed sense of responsibility.
As the product of an alcoholic home, I especially felt that drinking alcohol was bad. Smoking pot fell into the category of ‘doing drugs’.
It was for losers, completely unacceptable and out of the question.
As soon as I turned 11, I enthusiastically joined the Boy Scouts,
and pledged to myself that I would fulfill my sacred quest to earn Eagle Scout.
I grew up in Osterville, MA. The next village over is Centerville.
Osterville’s scout troop was pretty much nonexistent. Centerville’s (designated Troop 54) was strong and very active. So naturally, that’s where I went.
An apparent throwback of the 1960’s, the scoutmaster was a free-spirited, long-haired, kumbaya-singing, guitar-playing, radical vegetarian who insisted that we kids address him as, “Bill” rather than, “Mr. Schilling” (keep in mind, this was the early ‘70’s).
As dubious as he was, the only gainful employment Bill could find was delivering newspapers.
This left his schedule wide open, and he took advantage of it by totally embracing his duties as Scoutmaster. We met without fail, every Tuesday evening in the basement of the South Congregational Church in downtown Centerville village. We were extremely active, and the most camped-out troop on Cape Cod.
Bill could sometimes be a neurotic nuisance, but he was sincere in his concern for his scouts. As a result, he produced a lot of Eagle Scouts. Nuisance or not, I give him a lot of credit for his commitment to his scouts.
To the uninitiated;
When you earn Eagle Scout, you’re the member of an exclusive fraternity that follows you for the rest of your life. Once an Eagle Scout, always an Eagle Scout.
The Eagle Scout ceremony is a big deal, and an impressive thing, with letters being read from local politicians to the President of the United States. Lots of pomp & circumstance. It’s the brass ring every scout dreams of, and goes for. Boy Scouts has forever influenced my life.
It taught me to be self-sufficient, to improvise in difficult situations, and to always have a ‘can-do’ attitude. I cannot stress the importance of Scouting enough. Right from the start I was a troop leader and very active, going on troop-sponsored camp outs
We also participated in Cape & Island Council jamborees, camporees, hikes & survival camps. There were several months of the year when I’d be on a campout every weekend. I steadily advanced through the ranks: earned all the requisite skill awards, and accumulated an impressive merit badge collection….
As a brand new Tenderfoot scout, I had no camping equipment to speak of: A small rucksack, a mess kit I’d inherited and a Sterno stove. As time passed, I accumulated a very impressive collection of camping equipment.:
Tents, tarps, knives, flashlights, propane stove & lantern…you name it. With each passing Christmas and birthday, my collection grew. As I earned my merit badges, my mom proudly sewed them onto my sash, which was starting to look quite splendid.
As the mother of an Eagle Scout my mom could proudly wear a special pin, and enjoy the huge bragging rights of her son’s major accomplishment.
I took that away from her, and it took me a long, long time to come to terms with committing such a selfish, thoughtless act.
I loved going to summer camp at Camp Greenough, in Yarmouth Port, MA. It gave me the opportunity to earn more merit badges and live in the woods. Better yet, it got me out of the house, and away from my father’s bizarre and violent alcoholic behavior. As usual, I fell into a leadership position there.
One of life’s cruel realities is that things don’t always turn out the way you plan, and inconvenient variables have a way of showing up.
Case in Point: Around the time I turned 13 I discovered Marijuana (my drug of choice).
All my innocence and ambition just kind of melted away.
Although I had done just about all the work, accumulated all the merit badges, and achieved all the needed ranks – I ceased my quest for Eagle Scout, and became more interested in goofing off and getting stoned.
There was a definite change in me, and everyone else noticed it before I did. Like the guy who walks into a crowded room with his fly down…everybody knows about it before him.
It got to the point where Bill just gave up helping me work towards my Eagle. No one ever sat me down and explained that this opportunity would vanish forever, and this would bother me for the rest of my life. I broke my mom’s heart with my failure to make Eagle Scout.
Years later, I discovered that she’d kept my merit badge sash and uniform in the bottom drawer of a bureau in her office.
Even though it broke her heart to look at it, she couldn’t bear to part with it.
In retrospect, I recognize One major indicator of my fall from grace. Every year, all the kids I knew participated in the March Of Dimes walkathon to benefit babies. It was a fun, productive and popular thing to do. Armed with the paperwork, I’d knock on doors around the neighborhood, and the goodhearted, generous folks would pledge so much money for each mile I’d complete. In the parlance of the time, those people were my sponsors.
I was very ambitious, and always accumulated a ton of walkathon sponsors.
I carried a card on the walk, and had it stamped at each mile to validate that I completed the route.
I’d complete the entire 20 mile hike (my feet felt like hamburger afterwards) collect the pledged money, and submit the funds to the March of Dimes.
My sister, Judy, told me about a friend of hers,(Joyce) who did the walk, and kept the money.
That was something I never even considered doing, and it struck me as an incredibly skanky and underhanded thing to to. By the time I participated in my last walkathon, my standards had taken a huge nosedive, and that Godawful thing Joyce did didn’t seem so bad.
To my everlasting shame I did the same thing.
I knew it was wrong, but I did it just the same.
I was Stealing from babies. It really doesn’t get any lower than that. After that, I knew it was over.
All the fun and pride I felt for completing that brutal 20-mile trek, collecting the pledges, and sending it in…was gone.
The satisfaction of knowing I’d achieved my goal, finished an important task that took a lot of effort, and helped people….was replaced with shame.
Right along with missing out on my Eagle Scout.
HERE’S THE TAKEAWAY
It took me a long, long time to come to terms with all the squandered opportunities, and all the incredibly stupid decisions I’ve made.
There comes a time when you just have to recognize, accept and embrace painful events as important lessons to be shared with others, let that stuff go, and move on. We all experience bitter disappointment and tragic loss. No one’s exempt. How you handle that stuff is what makes you who you are.
When I first joined Alcoholics Anonymous, I jumped in with the same enthusiasm as with my pursuit of Eagle Scout:
The big difference is that 37 years later, my commitment and enthusiasm hasn’t wavered. It has only grown and ripened.
Now, every year on my anniversary, I present my mom with my AA medallion. It’s my act of contrition.
Granted, it’s not quite as glamorous as an Eagle Scout pin, but she appreciates what it represents, and understands what it means
…and she’s just as proud.
This life didn’t turn out quite like I planned.
In the end, it doesn’t really matter, because no matter how much I’d like to, I can’t go back and erase the mistakes of my past.
But I can atone for bygone transgressions, live for today, and work towards fulfilling my potential in this life.
…I’m covered.
