My Boy Scout paraphernalia. Noticed it in an old ziplock bag. I don’t know if it’s everything but it’s something.
My Troop was dying as I came into it. Vigorous Cub Scouts to Webelos to a Boy Scout Troop constantly in transition, eventually hitting a point where I was the final member of Troop 52, asked to hold the door open for the Troop a year longer by myself and so I did. Room was scheduled, I signed in, stayed, did things in that time, and signed out at the end of each solitary meeting.
Yet, there were a few good years in that 6 yr span. A dozen new members, the ability to teach and learn. Good outings. I was even able to earn a few things, get awards and ceremonies.
Being responsible for others for a few years was good experience as Senior Patrol Leader. It may have been a small taste of leadership in a small fishbowl but it’s good to have under anybody’s belt.
But focused, dedicated adult men were hard to come by. Scout Masters came and went, one after another at a rapid pace through that time.
You don’t always get what you think you should. But you can always make the most with what’s at hand.
Goods and bads but mostly good memories for me. The system may have been bigger than anything I could fix as a kid, but within it, I made the most.