The Scout Law

I was in the Scouts most my young life. I joined the Cub Scouts while in elementary school. When I was old enough I joined Boy Scout Troop 110. I remained an active Scout until I left for college. I learned how to have fun camping, how to build a fire, how to paddle a canoe and myriad other outdoor skills that have served me well throughout my life.

I dutifully memorized the Scout Oath and the Scout Law and recited them almost every week at Scout meetings. At the time I only had a vague idea of what the words meant. All I knew was that they represented ideals that the adults I respected thought I should learn. Here they are:

The Scout Oath: “On my honor I will do my best to do my duty to God and my country and to obey the Scout Law; to help other people at all times; to keep myself physically strong, mentally awake, and morally straight.”

The Scout Law: “A Scout is trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent.”

Although I left the Boy Scouts behind almost exactly fifty years ago I never forgot the Scout Law. As I was growing up my father was only a distant presence. Almost everything I know about how to live a good life as a man I first learned from the Scouts.

Here are twelve very brief stories I hope will illuminate each of these virtues.

Trustworthy: The last thing Anna heard before she blacked out from the unrelenting pain was “Trust me, we’ll bring help.” It may have been foolhardy to go ice climbing alone but Anna was an expert with hundreds of successful climbs behind her. That didn’t matter when she caught a toe and pitched sideways. She actually heard her leg break. Adrenaline permitted her to rappel off the ice, fashion a makeshift splint and drag herself to the lean-to a quarter of a mile away. In the fog of pain she realized there were two other climbers already camped there. Night was coming on fast. There was a threat of new snow. One of the climbers had some ibuprofen in his pack. They covered Anna with their sleeping bags, strapped on their snowshoes and headed out into the darkness.

Loyal: The troops rose early that warm summer morning. They ate hardtack and drank coffee around smoky campfires. While they waited for orders they wrote letters home and passed them to friends who would not be in that day’s battle. They watched hopefully as their comrades conducted a deafening artillery barrage that lasted most of the morning. Around noon the order came for the infantry to form up into brigades just in front of the trees that sheltered them. Major General Pickett rode up and delivered an inspiring speech in which he praised them as true sons of the Confederacy. “You loyal men are fighting to preserve our very way of life. Today we march to victory!” The order to advance came about 2:00 in the afternoon on July 3, 1863. Drummer boys kept time as about 12,500 men stepped forward. This impressive mass of soldiers marched in formation down a new mown hayfield. The smell of grass reminded those farm boys of home. As they approached the road at the bottom of the gentle slope an order to charge came down the line. They ran uphill towards a long stone wall, whooping and hollering, battle flags waving. Then, the Union cannon fire commenced.

Helpful: The weekend after Thanksgiving a lighted Christmas tree appeared as if by magic in the gazebo on the little island in Hiawatha Lake in Onondaga Park in our Syracuse neighborhood. Many passersby don’t realize the tree is a gift from the Strathmore Men’s Athletic Club [SMAC]. This group originally formed about 10 years ago as a softball team. When the season ended some of them decided to organize a neighborhood kids’ basketball league. As their membership grew SMAC members volunteered to coach Southside Little League teams. For the last several years they have hosted a major neighborhood party cleverly disguised as a water station during the Mountain Goat foot race in the spring. They provide volunteer manpower for Art on the Porches weekend in the summer, the Strathmore Artisan’s Holiday Sale in the fall and virtually every other neighborhood function. They meet the second Wednesday of every month at Swallow’s Tavern to drink beer, watch sports and plan their next project. 

Friendly: Looking everyone in the eye and saying hello as you pass on a city street will not end racism but it does help create good neighbors.

Courteous: I remember meeting Pete Keyes at my very first court appearance after graduating from law school. My first impression was not favorable. He had a reputation as a top trial attorney but I found him unnecessarily abrasive. Over the next months and years I faced him often as an opponent since he represented many major insurance companies. I admired his intelligence and courtroom skills but his aggressive demeanor consistently threw me off my stride. One day he would greet me by remarking off the cuff, “You know your client is a lair, right?” Just before going into a major trial he shook my hand and said, “So, rookie, do you really think you have the stuff to hit this stinker out of the park?” He really knew how to make me doubt myself. After loosing a particularly hard fought case to Pete, I sat down with my supervising attorney, a crusty old guy named John Hogg. “He knows how to get my goat, John. How can I fight back?” John whirled around in his chair, looked me straight in the eye and said, “Kill him with kindness. Always be polite. Never raise your voice. Pretend you don’t hear his insults. You will feel better and become a more effective lawyer. Eventually he will be so embarrassed he will stop baiting you.” John was right.

Kind: After a long lecture at Ithaca College concerning the proper intrepretation of the “Eight Verses on Mind Training” composed by Buddhist master Langri Thangpa back in the 12^th century, the Dali Lama looked up and smiled, “So,” he said, “to be clear, I am not suggesting you westerners even attempt to become Buddhists; what I am saying is to try everyday to be a bit more warmhearted.”

Obedient: Questioning authority does not help you learn to play the piano.

Cheerful: During one of their private meetings President Obama asked Obi-wan Kenobi to impart his secret for remaining optimistic during challenging times. Master Kenobi paused for only a single second, smiled and said, “So … for me one way is to cultivate a very cheerful earworm.” “Did you say ‘earworm’?” “Yes. My unconscious mind always plays a little tune. This comforts me greatly. I find if my unconscious mind is happy I will remain happy no matter how difficult the task.”

Thrifty: When I was in grade school my parents gave me an allowance of fifty cents a week. At first I spent it all on small toys and candy from the corner store. I was eight years old when I saw my best friend’s pocketknife at a Cub Scout meeting. I asked my mother to buy me one like it, but she refused. “If you want that knife, buy it yourself out of your allowance.” That’s when I started saving part of my allowance in a nifty wooden cigar box my father discarded. I still have that Lord Baltimore box.

Brave: This was the moment I had prepared for but hoped would never come. He called out as he stalked toward me while we waited outside Hanover Jr. High. “Hey mister smarty pants, who’s scared now, huh? Think you’re better than me? Well, you’re just a little fairy.” Before I could answer he hit me hard on the left side of my face. I staggered sideways. When I didn’t run away, he hit me in the stomach so hard that I fell to my knees. I stood back up and faced my attacker. A little crowd of kids formed around us. “I’m not going to fight you,” I said in the calmest voice I could muster. He hit me again right in the center of my face. My head snapped back and I fell flat on my back on the asphalt. I tried to get up but he kicked me in the ribs. From the corner of my clouded eyes I saw the vice-principal grab him. Someone led me inside to see the school nurse. When she finished packing my nostrils with gauze I noticed for the first time that my shirt was covered with blood. It took a little over a week for my black eye to go away.

I never saw him again. I later learned he had been expelled. So far as I can remember no one talked to me much about this incident, not my parents, not my teachers. If they had they would have learned that this bully had been taunting me as I walked to school almost every day for about a month before the attack. I didn’t respond, just walked faster. Once I walked the long way to school just to avoid encountering him. This made me feel like a coward, so I resumed my normal route and just endured the verbal abuse. I never told anyone. I never understood what set him against me.

I had plenty of time to think about what I would do if he tried to make good on his threats. He was much bigger than me. I knew I would not stand a chance fighting him one on one. Nonetheless I knew I would have to try to defend myself if he caught me alone. If he were foolish enough to try anything when others were around, that would be a different story. I based my plan on an idea that deeply impressed me when reading a young adult biography of Gandhi about a year earlier. And so, at the tender age of 12, I became a life-long believer in the practical application of non-violent resistance.

Clean: Back in 1965 my younger brother and I signed up for a wilderness canoe trip to northern Ontario. Twenty teenage boys and six brave Scout leaders rode a bus to North Bay, then a train to a remote part of the immense Temagami Lake. We paddled much of every day, camped out and successfully fished for Northern Pike. After three days our leaders decided the smell of so many dirty boys had to be addressed so they informed us that it was mandatory bath day. There was a shallow beach at the campsite perfect for bathing had it not been for the fact that the water temperature was just slightly above freezing. The Scout leaders stood all along the shore to be sure we washed up.

Reverent: My sanctuary is the deep north woods. White tail deer and black bear are my invisible acolytes. I walk silently. I carefully attend to everything that moves, lives and breathes. I rest my back against an ancient white pine. I breathe deeply and savor the cool, crisp air. Here I feel physically strong. Here I am mentally awake. Here I am morally straight. Here I become the man I was meant to be.