Eulogy for a Scoutmaster

I wrote this in 2001, when word reach me that Fred Dellinger, one of the Scoutmasters when I was a boy, died.  His granddaughter sent me this photo, in which he looks younger than I am now.  He seemed so impossibly old when I was a Scout.

On the day that Fred Dellinger, Jr. died, about 40 Cub Scouts of Pack 171 and their families woke up just west of Boulder, Colorado in the Rocky Mountains on what for many of them was their first Scout camping trip.  When they came out of their tents at Camp Patiya—8,000 feet above sea level—they could see the snow-covered peaks of the Continental Divide.  They could smell Ponderosa pine, and they could feel the crisp bite of fall in the air.  If one could write a script for a perfect first Scout camping trip for a boy, this was it. 

These Cub Scouts never knew Fred Dellinger, but it was in large part due to him that they had that wonderful camping experience.  I was one of the lucky boys in Boy Scout Troop 48 when Mr. Dellinger was the Scoutmaster.  Until I became a Scout, I had never camped out, gone backpacking, or paddled a canoe.  Thanks to him, I did all three.  He kindled in me a love of the outdoors that has never diminished, and he demonstrated a devotion to helping boys that has inspired me ever since. 

Mr. Dellinger was of the old school of Scouting.  He had served in the Navy during World War II, and when things got a little rambunctious during our Scout meetings in the basement of the Colonial Heights Presbyterian Church, he thought nothing of lining us up in patrols and putting us through a bit of close order drill.  He believed in “good order and discipline,” and held us to high standards. 

With his bald head, he resembled the then-leader of India, Prime Minister Nehru, and so behind his back we referred to him as “Nehru.”  He took us on camp-outs to places such as Dennis Cove and on canoe trips on South Holston Lake.  He gave up vacation time to spend a week at Camp Tom Howard with his troop every summer. 

On one such week at camp, we had to hike about five miles to the lake to begin a canoe trip.  Several boys had brought way too much gear—we had enough hatchets among us to outfit Lewis and Clark—and before long some of us were dragging.  This was when “Nehru” showed his Gandhi side.  Combining compassion with a need to keep moving, he took heavy items out of some boys’ packs and added them to his own.  We all eventually got to the lake. 

Without making a big deal out of it, he had shown us two essential qualities of Scouting:  kindness to others and selflessness.  Those lessons have resonated in my life ever since.  I stayed in Scouting to the age of 18, and when my sons were born, I became a Cub Scout leader, first in Massachusetts, and then in Boulder, Colorado.  As my boys grew and became Boy Scouts, I had a new appreciation for the weekends and vacation time that Fred Dellinger took from his family and gave to his Scouts. 

I was the one who began the practice of the Boulder Cub Scout Pack going on camping trips.  I have moved on from being the Cubmaster of that pack, but they continue to camp every fall and spring.  Cub Scouts usually do not go camping, but I believe that if boys are exposed to the wilderness at an early age, they will want more.  They will be more likely to join the Boy Scouts, and will be much more likely to become men who will serve our country and who will give of themselves to help others.

In short, they will become men like Fred Dellinger. 

I like to think that his last day on earth was the first day for a generation of Scouts who will pass on his love of the outdoors and devotion to others. 

If there are Scout troops in heaven, I like to think that right now they are getting a little bit of close order drill. 

So goodbye, Nehru—those of us who knew you will never forget you.