Back when my older brother was a Boy Scout, Dad was quite active in the leadership of the troop at our Church. Actually, both parents were active in Scouting, Mom was also a Girl Scout leader.
As I look back on my Dad, being an active leader in Boy Scouts must have been somewhat of a challenge for him. He had had health problems all his life, and his time in the service had left him with only one lung. But I remember Dad was active with scouts, including taking part in Scout Camp up at Geronimo each year.
Geronimo was the local organized Scout Camp up on the beautiful Tonto Rim of Arizona.
I remember one summer my Dad had been part of the leadership in the annual trip to Geronimo, and he had arranged it so that my entire family (including me) got to stay in a Cabin near where our local church troop was camped. Though Dad was with the troop, along with my brother, the rest of us were able to stay in the nearby cabin.
With me pleading and prodding, one night during the stay I was able to convince my Dad to allow me to go and stay in the tents for the night with the 'big boys' of the troop. I was 7 years younger then my big brother, so I am guessing I was about 5 at this time. Being able to camp with my Dad and the big boys was a dream come true.
That night, around the campfire, the leaders and boys told the typical Ghost Stories. One story that stood out to me was the a vivid story about the 'Mogollon Monster'. Camp legend had it that the Mogollon Monster lived nearby by on the Mogollon rim, roamed around late at night dining on unsuspected campers. Needless to say, at 5 or 6, the story scared the crap out of me. And it did not help that we had a Arizona Monsoon thunderstorm up on the rim that night, making for a loud boisterous night.
My Dad sent me to our tent early, after a few ghost stories and before we got soaked. I had never slept in a sleeping bag in a tent, and I was quite unsure how to go about this task. Unsupervised and still a bit frightened from the story and accompanying thunder, I decided to crawl into my sleeping bag head first.
I loved my adventure with the big boys and my Dad that week. It set the tone for me to love camping, ghost stories, and adventure of any kind. I still love the furious sound of thunderstorms and the smell of rain in the pines to this day.
I look back at those times when Dad was active in my life and the life of my brothers and sisters. I think I learned a lot of my gentleness and activeness with youth from my Dad. Those years did not last long, Divorce and his health had huge effects on that. My little brother and sister missed out on much of those types of adventures with my Dad, and they did not always see him the same as I did.
I loved my Dad, and I cherish many of those days of youth when he was active in Church, Scouting, Baseball, and family activities. I also liked that my Dad thought enough to take me along with the big boys, or take me to work with him, take me to get my hair chopped off in the summer time.
Though we were not rich in money, at times we were rich in the blessings of family life. Hopefully, my daughter's can look back at times when I was active in their lives fondly. I know my son-in-laws are very active in the lives of their children.
Happy Father's Day...
Cheers, nca
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