Date: 11/26/01 6:23:35 AM Pacific Standard Time Irv- Sorry to hear this news. I was just thinking about Verne the other day as memories of getting the Christmas Tree lot ready on Thanksgiving weekend came to mind. He knew some real good times and some real lows but always kept his head high. I'm not sure he knew what negative thinking was (at least he never showed it). For that, he was a great role model. I have not seen him in 10 years but will surely miss him. I believe I still have the coin he gave me for saying the Scout laws backwards. Can anyone top that? It would be great to hear some other guys memories of Verne. Most of us have some very special ones. --Jim Callahan Date: 11/27/01 8:06:54 AM Pacific Standard Time VOBjr trusted us to lead the Troop. Sometimes it backfired (how many times did VOBjr defend us to the Camp Irondale Director and staff ??) but mostly his trust allowed the Troop to become a leadership incubator -- and the Bakers were the core of that. There was always a tension between Verne and the Bakers because of his high trust level. We accepted the trust and ran with it, often faster than he ever thought would happen, and usually under the banner of something other than leadership. Camporee. Baker fight. Tree lot. Stroll. Pool party at the Taylors. Baker cabin, Greenbrier cabin, and so much more at the land. Marching into Irondale, behind Troop 16-1/2. Jeep antics (really, we were camping, not playing pool with the hooker at the bar in Hawk Point). OA. Hat press. Verne ran cover for us, kept us funded (thanks, too to Dick and Irwin, et al) and kept the formal governance of the troop intact. Scouting happened, in spades. But leadership happened on top of it because of Verne's trust. Let's bury him with a 17 leadership cocade very visible. He earned it if any one of us ever did. Best to you all. With great memories of our leader and his values. Rob Eskridge From: Phil Albrecht Thanks for sharing that Jim about Vern. Certainly he was all those things you said and more. I too hadn't seen Vern since my Dads funeral in early 80's. I did hear from him only once since. A few years back he honored me with a call out here in California . I was surprised and really enjoyed speaking with him about the troop. He will always be fondly remembered my many for the many unselfish contributions he made in each of our lives and in so many ways. Vern was a dedicated Seventeener! I don't have a coin keepsake like you for remembering him by. But I have a puzzle ring that he (eventually and with great pleading on my half) showed me how to master (after I bought one and I couldn't reassemble it). I had won many a bet with that ring and frustrated (as well a humbled) many a proud challenger to putting it back together. That will always be my reminder of that very person you mentioned. Vern was indeed a person who was upbeat and dedicated to the best Scout troop ever in the history of scouting in my mind. I pray the troop honors him with a Color Guard for the Grand OLE Master --that Master of Ceremonies that he was. I'm not a drinker but I think I'll just get that ring out and slowly put it together one more time. Flip Albrecht Our own P. T. Barn-um-hart Date: 11/27/01 6:06:06 PM Pacific Standard Time From: Barnes49dg Dear Irwin et. al. Where do you begin with a character as complex as Verne? Showman, visionary, creative, student of people, a perfect choice to follow Jack Baker as Scoutmaster of Troop XVII. In some ways they were two very different people, but they had some attributes in common as well. They both had a handle on how to build espirit de corps. Jack did it with his leadership cockade, the coat of arms we use on the troop stationery, the series of awards that added up to fruit salad on the chest on many a Seventeener and his vision of an elite corps with their own special uniform and transportation... was this a forerunner of the Bakers and the jeep? Verne did it with the jeep, Vehicle #4. There never was a #1, but Verne wanted others to think we had a whole fleet of jeeps. Then there were the "Bakers", complete with membership card, beret, and pride in association seldom seen even in the most exclusive clubs. The organization helped retain older Scouts who would have dropped out except for their special status. "Nawakwa", "the land" was another example of this attribute. "The land" was owned by Verne and rented to the troop for $1.00 per year. And it was two acres larger than the St. Louis Council Camp, Camp Irondale. Bragging rights. You betcha. Verne was an intimidating specialist in that area. Between the land, Vehicle #4 and the Bakers, Seventeeners could feel they were (and they truly were) members of the elite corps Jack Baker dreamed of. Or Verne as promoter. As the laundry and dry cleaning business began to suffer from synthetic fabrics and wash and wear, Verne came up with other ideas that were a natural extension of the original Midwest Laundries - the "First National Fur Bank" where people could store not only their furs, but winter clothes in the summer and summer clothes in winter. Great name, too. Allied with that was the "Washing Well", an appropriate name in 50's for a laundromat, and/or bulk laundry service. As friend, fellow scout and his printer, we worked together on a mailing campaign to new customers. It was dubbed "The Your Name in Gold" project. Each letter started with, "Your name is in gold because you are a valued customer to us." And the salutation with each person's name was hand written in golden gilt ink. How many times have you received a letter even vaguely similar from a company with which you just started doing business? That was Verne, always thinking. Let's not forget the tree lot. At the time, Midwest Laundries was located at one of the busiest corners in St. Louis. If location, location, location are the three most important elements in a successful retail business, then Midwest Laundries was practically a guaranteed success. The tree lot was on the opposite corner. Nuff said. What about Verne the psychologist? Working on the drive-in ramp at the laundry since he was a teenager had given him a rare insight into human nature. He could spot a "phony" from three blocks upwind. It was especially useful in handling the sanctimonious souls of several churches where we met. When one church wanted to know how many Jewish, Catholic and Protestant boys we had in the troop, Verne told them he not only didn't know, but that he didn't care to know. We were all Scouts and the color of our faith or skin was not important. Shortly after we moved to the church pastored by the Rev. Hoenschield, which is a story in itself. How could we change meeting places and not lose our proud troop numeral? It wasn't easy. Usually a scout troop is sponsored by the place where they meet. If they change meeting places, they have to re-register as a new troop with a different number. We were far too proud of our heritage for that kind of nonsense. It is a shame the professionals seem not to understand the importance of continuity and heritage, but there you have it. Verne's way around it was to have the troop sponsored by a Veteran's organization of which he was a member. I hope we still are, so we do not lose the XVII so dear to so many of us. Of course we all know about marching into Irondale to the jeers and catcalls of other barely organized groups who most certainly did not understand the significance of the Scout uniform, much less Brother Dick's insistence on "uniform uniforms... and a week later watching these same rag tag collections of boys trying to learn about close order drill. If you are going to be the best, make the effort to be the best and don't be shy about it - short pants and all. Of course at camporees we collected blue ribbons like they were daisies in a meadow. This did not come about by accident. Neither was it done under threat of the whip. Instead each scout was inculcated with a sense of belonging to an organization of boys, who happened to be scouts, who did it right - the first time and on time. Maybe it wasn't like winning track meets, or football games, but it took a full ration of preparation and teamwork to come out ahead in fire-building, first aid, signaling, judging, knot tying and the other scouting skills. Verne set the tone. We did it right and were rewarded with blue. Verne was also a marine. He looked like a marine (broad shoulders, thick chest, thick thighs and legs and not overly tall), handled himself like a marine and never forgot he was one. Perhaps it was the marines who taught him how to shoot. At any rate, I have seen him push a can down the road firing his pistol from the hip. This skill also came in handy when he wanted to separate a copperhead from his head. Snakes were allowed on "the Land", but they were not welcome. And then there is story that was told at my brother Tom's memorial service. Tom challenged Verne to a shooting match. The tin can targets were set up on a log, and Tom knocked his off with his usual skill. Verne's turn came, and he calmly raised his gun, fired at his tin can and was knocked backward by an explosion. Tom had put a bit of dynamite in Verne's can, and the explosion not only took him by surprise, but stripped him of his normally calm demeanor. Where do you begin? Where do you end? Verne served in China as many of you know. Do you remember famous phrase, Ding Hao? It meant "good", or "number one" Verne was very much "Ding Hao". Yours for a better XVII, Dave Barnes, exASM, Troop XVII Date: 11/27/01 10:51:12AM Pacific Standard Time From: Jim Landau Rob Eskridge makes a great point about Vern running cover for us, particularly with the Council powers-that-be. You have to wonder what he was thinking when he let so many kids who were so young with so much excess testosterone run around The Land with all of those guns (Irwin sent me a great photo of Rich Frank, Tom Wilson, Ron Bowers and me walking down the hill toward the creek on a winter day armed with more firepower than the Afghani banditos), all of that dynamite and lots of unlicensed drivers and underage drinkers. Only Dick Barnes came close in running cover for us, and I will always love them both for it. Let's add to Southern Aire breakfasts and the "threat" of "no ice cream" as the ultimate downside the constant optimism and extraordinary vision, the amazing level of enthusiasm for both the worthy and hare-brained idea, and the constant smile. Always well intentioned if not always effective, he will always be, like Leonard Wood and a few others, a lovable old fart. --Jim Date: 11/27/01 4:24:31 PM Pacific Standard Time I was in the troop when Verne became Scoutmaster. As I grew up, Verne remained a kid. He loved his toys --- cameras, watches, guns and gadgets. He drove a Graham in the early days. Then he got his big toy -- the jeep. I remember the day he picked it up. He drove to Andy Lindquist's house to show it off. He drove it on to the front lawn. I was with Andy at the time. Andy's dad asked me if Verne was ever going to grow up. Verne loved to argue with the Scout officials. The downtown guys had dealt with experts, but Verne could wear them down. Verne was my best man when I got married. I thought a great deal of him. I have not seen Verne in many, many years. I left St. Louis in 1977. Yours in the bond, Mike Kiernan Date: 11/26/01 10:48:17 AM Pacific Standard Time From: Gabe Kingsley Thanks for taking the time to pass the word. As you know, I hadn't seen or talked to VOB, Jr. since 1954-55 until the middle of last year. We had a long phone conversation in which he recounted some of his favorite memories, both triumphant and embarrassing, about Troop XVII. I learned about his marriage and business reversals, his illnesses and was very aware of his refusal to surrender to whatever beset him. During our chat, he had to excuse himself a few times to take pills or run to the "other room." We talked about John Honefinger, mused about the early days of "The Land," and it was obvious just how central Troop XVII was to his existence. Troop XVII and Verne represented a lot to me, and his death prompts even more reflection on my youth. The first rifle I ever fired was Verne's Winchester .22 pump. The troop Jeep was the first vehicle I ever drove, although not without him screaming a lot, worried that I'd flip it in a rut. He gave me an important lesson in how to rig the guy lines on a pup tent in a very practical way by showing me how a peg sticking up out of the ground could easily be dislodged by someone walking by, thereby ditching the tent with me in it! Verne's having served in the Marine Corps in WWII was one of the reasons I chose the Marines when the time came. He was the "outdoor father" my own was not and with that phone call, I felt the circle had been closed after 45 years of being out of touch with him. No doubt, Verne was a unique individual and Troop lore is full of anecdotes about him. I'm sure there are lots of memories hanging around out there. Best regards, Gabe Monday, November 26, 2001 9:20 AM Jim- Interesting that you should mention the coin... it was typical of VOB He had a way with younger scouts that few adults have... the coin makes me recall his last several troop meetings (he only came to about one a year the last couple of years because of his health & taxi problems) but he would always flip quarters with the young Scouts -- for a soda -- and they would just flock around him. Although they didn't see him much, every once in a while, one would ask about the guy that matched quarters for sodas. --Ur Wynne Date: 11/29/01 12:43:09 PM Pacific Standard Time From: IRWINALBR Strange the odd memories that crop up at a time like this... here's a few musings that popped into my head: --------------------------------------------- Verne was nocturnal! So his graveyard shift with the taxi company probably turned out to be a good fit for his medical situation and body chemistry at that time in his life. But he was always that way. He'd drive out to the camp, sleep all day while us scouts ran around the woods and then he'd drive back that evening to go to work. When taps came at summer camp, Verne would come alive. He'd be in his boxer shorts and undershirt (the ones without sleeves like many adults wore in those days), get out his foot-long flashlight (that seemed to use a zillion batteries) and prowl the camp or take his shower. And then he'd nap a good part of the next day. I can remember arriving at his house on 6900 Princeton at 6:00AM to leave for a camping trip and having to throw rocks at his windows - sometimes for an hour or more - to wake him up. You just could not get him going in the morning! --------------------------------------------- Verne had many strong points but he also had a way of exasperating you in the smallest things. For example, when we would return from a camping trip, VOB would personally select scouts to ride back with him - scouts whom he could conveniently deposit along the Delmar route in U. City... being careful to select only those who lived west of Skinker. So as he worked his way down Delmar, he'd drop off John Honefinger, Alex Smith, Jim Wion, Dave Taylor, etc until he reached the Standard station at Eastgate where he'd re-fill the tank with gas on the laundry account. Then Tom Kikis would just walk across the street to where he lived. That would leave just me. Then Verne would drive on north to the laundry. But rather than drive the few extra blocks to drop me off at my house, he send me on my way. So I'd have to put my pack on my back and hike the four blocks south. The only scout to have to do so. So I always tried to get out of going home with Verne but the SM called the shots. ---------------------------------------------- Verne loved his sidearms. And, of course, being a member of the Auxiliary Police, he was authorized to wear his pistol (a nice shiny silver/chrome revolver) in a holster on his hip. "Wear" probably wasn't the exact word - he'd flaunt it. He looked like a John Wayne and Pancho Villa poster rolled together into one. And then he'd explain to anyone who'd ask (or even might ask) why it was necessary for him to have it there because of the wild and dangerous forest in Lincoln County where he'd just been. ----------------------------------------------- Verne didn't have a middle name. Just the initial, "O". We always thought he was embarrassed (maybe it was Oscar, or Olivia, or whatever) and didn't want anyone to know what it was. Like a lot of kids with unusual family middle names. We nagged him a lot about it but he was very patient (and a bit proud) in explaining it to us. Apparently it gave him a lot of trouble in the service though. Those Marine sergeants were not very tolerant of personality quirks... particularly if they think someone was messing with their minds. But then, I would suspect, Verne probably played it for all it was worth. So he'd been through it so much by our time that we really couldn't aggravate him much about it. We tried but it just didn't work! Date: 11/29/01 6:10:22 PM Pacific Standard Time Irwin, I always thought the Verne"s middle name was Olsen....I swear that it was he who told me that. Could he have been pulling my leg? Doug Taylor Irwin, The middle initial of Verne's name probably stood for "Ora". Within our family we would argue about his middle name as well. His father, my grandfather was Verne Ora Barnhart, Verne's grandfather was Ora Barnhart, and his Uncle was Ora Barnhart Jr. My father was Richard Ora Barnhart and I am Richard Ora Barnhart Jr. and my son is Richard Ora Barnhart III. Verne always insisted he had just the initial O. My grandfather would not take sides, but neither Verne nor my grandfather would produced a birth certificate to settle the issue. P.S. "Ora" is latin for "pray". The Barnhart family contained many ministers in a denomination called The Church of the Brethern. P.P.S. How about setting up a tribute section on the troop website for the posting of VOB Jr. stories and ancedotes. Rick Barnhart Subj: Re: VOB Date: 11/29/01 7:25:57 PM Pacific Standard Time Irwin, I think he just did not like the name "Ora". Do you think he got any grief for it in Boot Camp? I can still vividly remember sitting in a circle in 2nd grade, and everyone having to tell their middle names. The only saving grace was that Paul Jacoby was in the same class, and his middle name is "Magnus". Grade school kids can have almost as much fun with that as they can with "Ora". If we were not already friends at the time, I believe we would have become friends after that. Rick Barnhart Ricky- Actually, if you think about it now, Vern would not be Vern JR, unless his middle name was Ora... Therefore, Vern was either incorrect or not telling the truth... i.e. he was either not a jr. or his middle name was Ora. I finally got him ... forty + years too late ... and I can't gloat! Ur Wynne Irwin, I still, to this day, do not know the truth about Verne's middle name. will ask Eric to show me his birth certificate if he comes across one... Rick Barnhart --Ur Wynne Date: 11/29/01 12:42:40 PM Pacific Standard Time To: Dave Barnes Enjoyed your email on P.T.Barn-um-hart... you captured Vern perfectly. Had many comments about it -- all positive -- from people at the wake, on the phone, and via email. It's amazing what turns up when a number of people begin reminiscing. It's been years since I've heard the phrase "Ding Hoa"... even Verne quit using it years ago. And it was so universal when I was a young scout. But, I guess, as China drifted further and further into VOBs past, it passed away also. Strange... a couple of years ago I came across a post card that VOB sent out to the the troop in the late forties or early fifties. It in he exhorted everyone because of the poor attendance at the previous meeting... ending up with the comment (paraphrased), "if everyone shows up we can have a Ding Hoa time... but this week it was a "Boo Hoa" meeting. Vintage Vern! I've scurried around but cannot put my hands on the card right now. Ur Wynne Subj: RE: Our own P. T. Barn-um-hart Date: 11/30/01 11:30:32 AM Pacific Standard Time From: Gabe Kingsley Greetings All - Flip mentioned Verne driving a black Grand prix. My first recollection of Verne's car was a large (either white or very pale green) 1951 to 1953 Chrysler. He was a commanding presence driving that car, assuming a regal posture, cigarette in one hand, steering with the other. At least, I think it was a Chrysler. He had a Zippo lighter that he could light in a single motion, opening and flicking it. He did it like a sleight of hand trick, and after lighting his cigarette, he carefully clicked it closed and returned it to his pocket. I also remember his watch, which was larger than most. It had a band made of stainless steel that clasped, rather than buckled on his wrist. There may have been either an emblem or leather insets in that band; I'm not certain. At age 13, when I had my bar mitzvah, a congratulatory telegram from Verne (on behalf of the troop) was the only message I received from outside our family. That really touched my parents, who had been confused by my having chosen to join a scout troop that met at Holy Communion, rather than the one closer to home that met at United Hebrew Temple! That we wore short pants, even in the winter, seemed masochistic to my mother, and who was this "pied piper" who taught her son how to fire a rifle? The messages of troop history, traditions and excellence infused in us by Verne's direction served as the basis from which we learned to work as a team, to strive for and accept nothing less than winning, and doing it with flair and a good measure of creativity. Some outsiders spoke of seventeen's arrogance, yet I see it more clearly as a high degree of self-assuredness, as one might have, knowing they were the best. Other troops described us as smug, yet what is wrong with feelings of self-satisfaction when you try hard and win? I had occasional flash-backs to my days in seventeen and Verne's style during my weeks in boot camp at Parris Island. Some of the messages about "history, missions and traditions" and the importance of teamwork were very similar in tone to those I initially heard in the troop, which seemed to dovetail with his having been in the Marine Corps. Drill Instructors are known for their wiliness in being able to "beat the system" or work around or bend the rules, should their platoon need more time, special equipment, etc. in order to successfully complete a task or win a competition. I thought of Verne at times when our DIs exercised the principles of, "improvise, adapt and overcome." Thanks to having been taught close-order drill in the troop, I had no problems (at least marching) in boot camp! Best to all - Gabe Subj: Re: Our own P. T. Barn-um-hart Date: 11/30/01 7:38:12 PM Pacific Standard Time To: Gabriel Kingsley Actually the first car I remember VOB having was the Nash with the seats that laid (maybe I shouldn't use that word) down flat in back to make a bed... which Verne found quite useful on campouts (and possibly at other times... but I was too young to know anything about that then). --Ur Wynne A couple of other passing recollections as I wrap up incorporating everyone's memories: Verne only wore one kind of shoe... a particular type of black brogue. He wore them everyday... but he had seven pairs of the same shoe in his closet so that he could rotate them to air them out. --------------- Vene was best man at Mike Kiernan's wedding... and I guess it was the first Catholic Mass he had ever attended because he had just discovered "genuflecting" couldn't stop showing everyone how it worked. Ur Wynne Subj: Final thoughts on VOBjr. Date: 12/2/01 9:19:58 PM Pacific Standard Time Some of the things I remembered of Verne came to mind as I reflect back on my early years of scouting. They weren't big things that involved dynamite or the likes but hey, they were little things that I'm sure some of the scouts of my time remember as well. -------------------------------- I remember whenever we went shooting with Verne that we would stop at the coach-house(?) for pancake breakfast. Verne would give us each of us 90 cents to get breakfast with... not a dime more --not a dime less! ------------------------- I remember when shooting , we had to learn the 10 rules of fire arms / safety before we even were considered to go. His one rifle wasn't simply a 22 long --it was a B-A-R (Brownie Automatic Rifle). ----------------------- I remember the Playboy magazines that had different magazine covers on them in his house (we waited for Verne to go to bed and we would hunt them down till we found them. I remember the late night card games at Vernes before we went shooting the next morning. He also had one of the first (that I ever saw) remote control clickers for TV). --------------------------- I remember his black Grand prix ...he seemed to favor those Pontiacs. ---------------- When we were at a stoplight he would always seem to know when to go across. He would tend to start across the intersection before it was green. It sometimes scared us but we soon figured out that he watched the opposing signal to know when to go. ------------------ He kept a tab on every dime we borrowed for sodas at Wednesday night meetings and always showed off his 1,000 dollar bill. -------------------- In retrospect, I kind of remember Verne like a Norman Rockwell type of painting or canvas character. He had those reading glasses on the very tip of his nose to read the tabs on your bill for sodas or he was showing you a trick or how to tie a knot --(the rabbit comes out of the hole; around the tree...) --the puzzle ring, etc. He was very attentive to those who looked up to him as a Scoutmaster --and as kids--we all did. -------------------- I remember those goofy gold --long cigarettes that he would mark half way swearing that the worst chance for cancer was the lower end and that was his reminder to not smoke past that part. -------------------- Yeah there are more things to remember and I'm sure they will come to mind as I remember the best time growing up as a Seventeener -- the best troop ever and known in several states around --and our scoutmaster was someone everyone knew... Verne Barnhart. Thanks for the memories. Flip Albrecht Date: 12/8/01 8:38:07 AM Pacific Standard Time The issue of "trust" that you (and others brought up) reminds me that Verne gave me a key to the church when I was SPL and I opened up and closed the church for meetings and other activities for many years until I left for the Navy. I think he got some heat from some people in the church from time to time but I never abused the privilege, lost the key, or loaned it out. Verne was not only way "ahead of his time" with regards to taking junior leaders to the adult camp leaders meetings, it was just the way he approached running the troop. If we were to run it, we should get the information first hand. And it was another big way of making his junior leaders feel important... by going to the adult meetings... And, of course, Verne liked to show off all his many junior leaders -- something none of the other troops could come close to doing. --Ur Wynne Date: 12/7/01 7:38:02 AM Pacific Standard Time Irwin, I'd like to add my "two cents worth" of memories of Verne to the collection you have pulled together. I think a good part of pride the Troop developed in the early '50s, resulted from Verne's innate sense of showmanship. He was a showoff in the good sense of the word. An example would be the original Jeep with the "Official Vehicle No. 4" license plate and the cockades painted on the side. Another example would be the "TROOP - XVII - POST" drivers' licenses which Verne had printed up. It said the Scout named on the card "Is authorized to operate vehicle Number 4, Troop 17, St. Louis Council, B.S.A." Before a junior leader of the troop could drive the Jeep, you had to demonstrate to Verne that you knew how to drive a clutch vehicle and then suffer through a lecture on safety and responsibility. It was a small thing, but I can remember how proud I was to be presented with mine--even though I had been driving the Jeep without it for several months. (I've still got mine, you still got yours?) This is also an important thing to remember -- once you earned Verne's trust, no matter what happened, he backed you to the hilt. One evening in 1956, I walked from my house in the Tangle-Town section of University City the mile or so to MidWest Laundry to pick up the Jeep so I could pack it for a camping trip the next day. Driving back to my house, I made a left turn from Vernon onto Pennsylvania. There was a car approaching, but as I made my turn, the other driver rolled through the stop sign and hit the right front side of the Jeep. The damage to the Jeep was minimal--the axle cap was dented and there was a slight fold in the fender. But the other car was pretty banged up--bumper had crumpled, pushing the fender back into the passenger side door. The car's headlight needed replacement. The other driver jumped out and began shouting how I had caused the accident and was growing increasingly upset until my friend, Frenchy Coyle, walked up behind him and said he had witnessed the accident and the man had run the stop sign. I reported the accident to Verne the next day. After I gave him all the information, he never mentioned it to me again. Some thirty years later, Oscar Guth and I were talking about Verne. Oscar recalled how the Jeep's insurance had jumped sharply after a sixteen-year-old Scout had had an accident with it. He said Verne never complained about the increased premiums, nor did he ever think about limiting the Jeep's drivers to adults. But back to showmanship. One year at Irondale, the first night, Verne and I headed to the camp office for the welcome meeting with the staff. I was 17's newly minted SPL, and looking back forty years, I believe Verne was the only Scoutmaster at the meeting who had taken his SPL. Announcements were made, materials handed out, schedules announced. Then the Camp Director stated that all troops would attend the camp's Retreat Ceremony each evening in full uniform. Verne asked for and was given the floor. He stated that Troop 17, would attend each evening's Retreat, but not in full uniform. We would be in broad-brimmed hats, white Tee shirts, shorts and long socks. The director said that was not the Scout Uniform--that 17 would be the only troop not in full uniform. That was Verne's que -- and he rose to the opening he had been waiting for. He said no other troop had all their Scout belts, or neckerchiefs, or even shirts. So, in fact, "full uniform" was a meaningless statement for the other troops. He then really turned the heat up. He said Troop 17 Scouts would hang their Scout shirts in their tents, keeping them clean and protected until Friday night's retreat. He said by then, the other Scouts who had shirts and had worn them all week would look terrible. He concluded with the flat statement that Troop 17 would be the sharpest troop at Retreats all week and would be the only troop in FULL UNIFORM at the end of the week. Of course, Troop 17 was the sharpest troop in the camp all week and the snappiest at the final Retreat Ceremony. Then, his sense of humor... I recall that horrendous snow storm which hit on March 1st, 195X. All that winter, the St. Louis weather had been mild--little snow, less freezing temperatures. The Troop decides to head for Nawakwa. The famous picture of Johnny Honeyfinger struggling in the blizzard into the Jeep says it all--nobody had looked at the weather forecast; nobody was prepared for eight inches of blowing snow. As I recall, Verne, from his snug bed and warm house on Pennsylvania Avenue organized a parental rescue party. Several days later, Verne's only comment was "who would have ever thought you'd get a blizzard on the first of March?" "And now, may the Great Scoutmaster of all Scouts, be with us all until we meet again..." Thanks, Verne Alex Smith
For a few more stories, check out these from the Alumni webpage:
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