Atypical Scout Part II

Don Erath had two sons about 6 years apart.  He settles in the San Fernando Valley post-WWII as did thousands from all over the country.  Don was an honest man who had a strong sense of community service.  That's why he became an LA cop and volunteered to be the Scoutmaster of his sons Boy Scout troop.  He was supported by a longtime scout assistant Scoutmaster called Buck.  Buck Flatt was his full name.  It sounded more like a campground.  Buck had 3 sons.  An older son in his mid-20s and a pair of twins, Dean and Dale about 12 years old.  Dean was a consummate young Boy Scout.  His twin, Dean, was what we then referred to as "mentally retarded."  His mental disabilities did not hinder Dean in his ability and desire to be a Scout.  He just couldn't attain many of the other skills necessary to rise through the ranks from Tenderfoot to Eagle.  We all loved Dean and most of the other troop members felt empathy for him.  Dean, in turn, provided us with lots of entertainment from his quirky ways.  Case in point: When we recited the Scout oath,  that began, "A Scout is trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly courteous kind..." When we got to the "obedient, cheerful, thrifty, part, Dean always replaced "thrifty" with "Thriftymart," the name of a local grocery store.  Chuckles always erupted when this happened, as Dean liked his recitations in a loud voice.
When I see Dean, all these years later, I see him in the back of the Troop truck as we make our way to a campground.  He's reclining on a pile of tents, sleeping bags and ground cloths, holding a red Folger's coffee can in his hands.  His mom always baked a Devil's food cake in a coffee can for him.  He would periodically open the can and retrieve a small silver bent spoon and partake of his treat on the way.  Dean's contentment soared while eating his chocolate cake.  Nobody messed with him as he enjoyed this ritual.

Dean had a pal in Charlie, another mentally disabled Scout.  Charley attended most meetings but seldom went on campouts for some reason.  Some of the other memorable members of this mismatched band of brothers were Tommy, the heavyset big guy who make the thickest pancakes you ever saw, and Jeffrey, "the pardon me, kid."  Jeffrey earned this moniker one day as his patrol was careening down a mountain.  As these guys came sliding down a trail, dust flying, bumping into one another and laughing all the way, Jeffrey suddenly crashed into the guy in front of him.  He was the son of a proper British gentleman so, in the midst of this ping-ponging, he said "Pardon me.
Jimmy immediately jumped on that saying, "who says "Pardon Me" when you are mountain climbing?  The name stuck.
I'm sure there is a funny cast of characters and events in every Boy Scout troop.  Those days of catching bluegill and bass on worms and even tinfoil when we ran out of live bait, were truly formative.  Every now and then, decades later, as I cast a dry fly into a calm pool or on a placid lake when a fish expresses interest and there is that little flick of a splash, I become that 10-year-old scout with the patience of Job and a shot of adrenaline.  Troop 201 lives on.
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I earned 24 merit badges as a Boy Scout.  Ironically, I never got the one for Fishing.  As a lifelong fisherman, and now as a fly fishing enthusiast, I have easily completed all the requirements.  Shortly before I retired from full-time teaching I had a student originally from Finland.  Saku told me one day as the school year ended that he was graduating and also he had attained the rank of Eagle Scout.  When I told him that I had been an Eagle Scout he was intrigued even more and asked me many questions about my experience "back then." I mentioned the irony of the fishing merit badge.  A couple of weeks later, at graduation, I congratulated Saku after the ceremony and he put something in my hand with a broad smile. Yup, you guessed it.