I was an Eagle Scout

So today is the day I’m mailing off my Eagle Scout awards to the Miami Valley Council of Boy Scout of America and the National Office.  For the past few days I’ve been reminiscing about my Scout experience.  I even found my Eagle application.  The first paragraph includes this:

What I will major in is unknown to me at this time. I feel that I am about to reach a major crossroads in my life, and the fact that I do not know what my field of study will be is weighing on me. I enjoy writing. Science intrigues me. Business is always a possibility. I know I will find that place where I belong, my niche in life.

“I enjoy writing.” I was closer than I knew to finding my way.

One of the people mentioned having helped with my Eagle Scout service project was my cousin Brice. If you listen to the Talk of the Nation interview, I talk about Brice. He’s marrying Billy, a gay Eagle Scout. Brice and Billy, two amazing people who I’m lucky to know, are the reason I’m turning in my awards. If they aren’t good enough for Boy Scouts, neither am I.

There were also letters from my piano teacher, athletic director at my school, principal at my school, my high school English teacher Mrs. Marshall, President Clinton, Vice President Gore, and more. I have more than 50 cards from family and friends. The box bursts with badges and news clippings, pins, sashes, plaques, and even my very first Scout Book.

All of this reminded me just how big of a deal attaining Eagle was and how much fun I had along the way. The trip down memory lane didn’t make me second guess my decision, but only reaffirmed it.

Here are a few pictures from my journey…

At Philmont Scout Ranch

At Philmont Scout Ranch

Note: Annie, my wife, looked at these pictures and said, “What did I ever see in you?” Fortunately, I got better looking.

 
2 comments

[…] stamps they have in their passport, as if a passport is a scoresheet or a merit badge sash (I’m a former Eagle scout). But traveling in Europe from one country to another doesn’t even earn you a stamp. What about […]

Arleen says:

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