For Want of a Nail. . . . .

(A repeat from December 3, 2015)

If there was a pivotal moment in my life, it was becoming an Eagle Scout. I owe a lot to that boyhood achievement: going to college; going to law school; getting a job; meeting my wife; having a daughter and grandchildren; and knowing how to deal with different “situations.”

The sine qua non for my acceptance to Augustana College was that I was an Eagle Scout (see post of 10/13/13). It sure wasn’t because I was a scholar. At Augustana, I chatted with a couple of pals who talked about law school. Soooo, I went to law school. At Augustana, I met Diane — who a year after my graduation introduced me to Donna (“Scott I have a girlfriend from New York I think you should meet“). And because of Donna, we have Lauren and her family. When I interviewed to be a State’s Attorney, the first 15 minutes of conversation was about Boy Scouts (I’d put “Eagle Scout” on my resume). And I was offered the job.

Being an Eagle Scout taught a lot – including first aid (see 10/21/11 and 10/31/15). That knowledge has saved the day on more than a few occasions. An Eagle trajectory got me a job at age 14 (for three summers) on staff at Camp Napowan — a Scout camp in Wild Rose, Wisconsin. That experience provided a major education and provided friends I have to this day.

All in all, I’d have to say that being an Eagle Scout was the “nail” (Poor Richard’s Almanac 1758) that made all the difference in the world for yours truly. And you know what? That achievement has made – and will continue to make — all the difference in the world for a universe of young men.

Riding with Joe Miller

(A summer repeat from 6/4/2013)

In my post of January 16, 2013, I wrote about Joe Miller’s Jests — the famous compilation of 247 numbered jokes published in 1739 by John Mottley. Well, there’s another “Joe Miller” that played a role in my life.

Fifty plus years ago, when I worked at Camp Napowan (the Boy Scout Camp in Wild Rose, WI), the chap who owned some of the property was Joe Miller (no relation to the joke book persona). Joe had an ancient olive drab pick up truck that (Scout’s Honor) had no doors. Floor stick shift. And of course there were no seat belts and no handle above the door to grab. His favorite line – while cruising, weaving and wobbling on the back roads of Wild Rose – was “If there’s no one coming around that bend, we’ll see the sun rise tomorrow.” I swear if we were driving with Joe, we’d grab under the glove compartment and hang on for dear life.

Today, there’d be a lot of “tsk tsking.” There would be newspaper articles.  There’d be an “inquiry.” Joe would be criticized. Maybe tossed in the clink. Unsafe vehicle. Endangerment. Et cetera. The usual assortment of money-grubbing plaintiff’s lawyers would sue anyone and everyone to scam a buck.

You should know — I would definitely not want – or allow – my child or grandchild to be one of Joe’s passengers. But looking back on it — I’m privately glad that I rode with Joe Miller . . . . .

For Want of a Nail. . . .

If there was a pivotal moment in my life, it was becoming an Eagle Scout. I owe a lot to that boyhood achievement: going to college; going to law school; getting a job; meeting my wife; having a daughter and grandchildren; and knowing how to deal with different “situations.”

The sine qua non for my acceptance to Augustana College was that I was an Eagle Scout (see post of 10/13/13).  It sure wasn’t because I was a scholar.   At Augustana, I chatted with a couple of pals who talked about law school.  Soooo, I went to law school.  At Augustana, I met Diane — who a year after my graduation introduced me to Donna (“Scott I have a girlfriend from New York I think you should meet“).  And because of Donna, we have Lauren and her family.  When I interviewed to be a State’s Attorney, the first 15 minutes of conversation was about Boy Scouts (I’d put “Eagle Scout” on my resume).  And I was offered the job.

Being an Eagle Scout taught a lot – including first aid (see 10/21/11 and 10/31/15).  That knowledge has saved the day on a few occasions.  An Eagle trajectory got me a job at age 14 (for three summers) on staff at Camp Napowan — a Scout camp in Wild Rose, Wisconsin.  The experience provided a major education and provided friends I have to this day.

All in all, I’d have to say that being an Eagle Scout was the “nail” (Poor Richard’s Almanac 1758) that made all the difference in the world for yours truly.  And you know what?  That achievement has made – and will continue to make — all the difference in the world for a universe of young men.              

Reunion

For three summers, I was on staff at Camp Napowan — a Boy Scout camp in Wild Rose, Wisconsin. From late May (setting up the camp) until late August (taking it down), I worked with about forty other young men.  Nearly all were Eagle Scouts.  And all were good pals.  I’ve posted before about Camp Napowan (7/26/11; 2/1/12; 2/5/12; and 6/4/13).   Working at that camp — with young men of great stature, integrity and character — made quite an impression on me.   

A few weeks ago, I went back for a reunion of staff at Camp Napowan. There were guys that I hadn’t seen in 53 years. And you know what? We literally picked up where we left off. There were seven guys of my vintage who showed up.  The camp had changed a great deal.  But the guys had not.  It was enlightening to see what these 15 year old boys had become: veterinarian; oncologist; Navy pilot/commander; accountant; businessman; and two lawyers.  We have since spent time emailing, exchanging photographs and chatting on the phone. 

Next year, Camp Napowan is hosting another reunion.  The 70th anniversary.  Instead of bringing seven grown up 15 year olds out of the woodwork, there is hope for several times that.  Maybe even Harrison Ford will show up (see 2/5/12).  To be continued. . . . .  

Riding with Joe Miller

In my post of January 16, 2013, I wrote about Joe Miller’s Jests — the famous compilation of 247 numbered jokes published in 1739 by John Mottley.  Well, there’s another “Joe Miller” that played a role in my life. 

Fifty plus years ago, when I worked at Camp Napowan (the Boy Scout Camp in Wild Rose, WI), the chap who owned some of the property was Joe Miller (no relation to the joke book persona). Joe had an ancient olive drab pick up truck that (Scout’s Honor) had no doors. Floor stick shift. And of course there were no seat belts and no handle above the door to grab. His favorite line – while cruising, weaving and wobbling on the back roads of Wild Rose – was “If there’s no one coming around that bend, we’ll see the sun rise tomorrow.” I swear if we were driving with Joe, we’d grab under the glove compartment and hang on for dear life.

Today, there’d be a lot of “tsk tsking.”  There’d be an article in the New York Times.  There’d be an “inquiry.”  Joe would be criticized.  Maybe tossed in the clink.  Unsafe vehicle.  Endangerment.  Et cetera.   The usual assortment of plaintiff’s lawyers would sue anyone and everyone to scam a buck.   

You should know — I would definitely not want – or allow – my child or grandchild to be one of Joe’s passengers.  But looking back on it — I’m privately glad that I rode with Joe . . . . .

Wishbone

One of my favorite restaurants in Chicago for lunch is Wishbone – located at 1001 West Washington (just east of Oprah’s studio).   The food is Southern/Creole.  I was introduced to Wishbone perhaps 15 years ago by my good friend Bob R. who served with me on the staff of Camp Napowan — a Boy Scout camp in Wild Rose, Wisconsin. 

On those rare – but delicious – occasions when I go to Wishbone, I am in a rut.  And I order the same thing.  Every time.  I order the crawfish cakes with two “sides”:  black beans and rice and mashed sweet potato topped with chopped nuts.  And an iced tea.  On Friday, my assistant treated me to lunch at Wishbone to celebrate my 42d birthday.  Would you believe 53?   How about . . . . never mind.  Anyway, the offering looked so good, I snapped a pic — just as I dug my fork into the mashed sweet potatoes.  That’s corn bread and cole slaw on the left. . . . Scrumptious. . . . . Would you believe 61?? 

Wishbone

Harry

Speaking of Camp Napowan, a year or two before I was on staff, there was a chap named “Harry” who was on staff at the camp for a couple years.   Harry was from Park Ridge (IL) and attended Maine East High School.  Good guy from all accounts.  As I recall he worked in the camp store.   After graduating from Maine East, Harry attended Ripon College for a year or two but he dropped out and moved to Los Angeles where he had some minor acting roles and worked as a carpenter.  

While doing some carpentry work for filmmaker George Lucas, Harry was asked to “read” for a role for a new film that was in the works.  So, Harry read for the part – and he got it.    Harry played the part of Han Solo in Star Wars.  Yes . . . “Harry” who worked at Camp Napowan was Harrison.  Harrison Ford. . . .  

A Lifebuoy Lesson

When I was 12 years old (1959), I spent part of the summer at Camp Napowan — a great Boy Scout camp in Wild Rose, Wisconsin.  One hot sunny afternoon, I was loping back to my campsite when I saw a fellow camper named “Wiley.”  I looked at him and called him a “______.”   It was a highly offensive and nasty slur.  What prompted my outburst, I don’t recall but from the moment the words left my lips, things began moving verrrry quickly.  And with great and lasting impression. 

The Senior Patrol Leader, Bill B. – age 14, heard my comment and yelled an order to other Scouts.  They grabbed me and dragged me shouting and struggling to the wash stand.  Bill took a well-used cake of Lifebuoy’s finest and pushed it into my mouth.   Then – with a word from Bill – I was released.  I ran back to my tent on the verge of tears – spitting soap shards.   When I emerged, the matter was forgotten.

But you know what?  From that time on, I never used an epithet like that.   I learned.  Some might say “the hard way.”   But I disagree.    I wish other young people could learn like this — from their peers.  I look at this lesson (and others I’ve had) as being key to my development (see posts of 8/16/11 and 11/23/11).  I’m glad I learned.           

Oh and Bill B.?  He and I went on to become Eagle Scouts.  We worked together on staff at Camp Napowan for the next 3 years.   He became one of my two closest friends (along with my great pal Col. “Ox” – another Eagle Scout).   Bill was best man at my wedding.  And we talk frequently.  Today, he’s the finest veterinarian in the State of Kentucky.   And to this day, I’ve rarely heard Bill utter anything stronger than a (usually appropriate) “doggonit.”