There were three years in a row during which I did not leave the house at 3:00PM on Wed-
nesdays without a gallon thermos of Koolaid and 2 dozen cookies. The cookies were as varied
as the ''little Indians" they ranged in age from 8 to 10.
They were proud members of the oldest Cub Scout pack in Ohio. We played games,read
stories, Made the usual tacky crafts...uh...handmade gifts for parents each holiday. We had fun.
The only time I got into trouble was because of a trip to the Air Force Museum 100 or so
miles away. I arranged for the use of a Custom Coach (big luxury RV thingie) owned by a local
auto dealer. The day prior it had been used for football tailgaiting.
Seems cold beer was left on board... I got a call a few days later from HEADQUARTERS which leftt me in fear that Lord Baden Powell himself was coming to rip off my epaulets,
as several of the men on this Father-Son outing had imbibed.
Two of the boys used to follow me home. Now 38 some years later I sadly report what
became of my eight little Indians. One was a suicide at age 30...another shot in a drug deal at
age 19...one took a curve too fast at 16 within days of getting his license. Four of them I lost
track of.
As for the two who followed me home,one was my son...an industrial designer with his own
business ...the other a partner in a law firm is now my stepson. Yes I married his dad a few
years later.
We have been married for 30 years in February. He still has not told me if he had a cold
beer on that long ago Father-Son trip.
