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AUSTIN, Texas, Feb. 11, 2006 — Charles Whitman was an Eagle Scout. However, many wonderful people with no murders to their credit achieve this designation. My cousin who lives in Katy got his. His brother (who lives in Dallas) came up a little short. But both their sons made it. And my cousin from Dallas has one daughter who married an Eagle Scout. (I only found this out because she and her husband attended the ceremony today.)
Of course, all Eagle Scouts are boys. I suppose there is some kind of program for Girl Scouts that doesn't involve cookie sales. I was an undistinguished Campfire Girl for a while. "Always finish what you begin," was a rubric I remember from that group.
Today is a ceremony for our latest Eagle Scout in the family. It has turned out to be a convenient time for my dad and his sisters
to get together. One is the grandmother of the scout. One has a granddaughter who has recently moved to Katy.
The room is packed with people for the ceremony. There are three scouts getting the honor. They seem younger than their eighteen years or so. A little nerdy. I wonder how they get along in high school. They seem a little shy, especially my cousin's boy. The ceremony goes on for a while. The kids seem so impossibly nice. There is a presentation of the colors; then pledges and candle lighting and medals and plaques and a special eagle scarf and pins for the kids' mothers. Other scouts hand out programs and present the flags and, after the ceremony, serve cake. There are snacks provided by the parents. The boys are respectful and patient with the photo ops. An attempt to get our Eagle Scout and all the friends and family in a picture is not too successful. Too many people. When my dad's family gathers, a crowd is almost always the result.
I'm too full (from a lunch of chowder, raw oysters and hush puppies) to eat the snacks and cake. Not to worry. Each parent gets a share of the leftovers.
I take some of the old folks to change and then we gather at my cousin's house. From there we go to the house of my my first cousin (once removed)* with a bunch of the folks and the leftovers in tow. (The scout has to stay home and work on schoolwork. What ever happened to putting things off until Sunday night? Oh, yeah, 'be prepared.') This second house is in the most amazing sprawl of MacMansions and new streets I've ever seen. This is not the kind of place I live. Patina is not even an add-on. This is not even the kind of place I visit that often. Very instructive.
And...I get hungry enough to consume some eggrolls, cheese and sausage balls and pigs in a blanket and some little sandwiches and dips and chips. Good stuff. Glad I didn't miss my chance at it. We visit and explore the big house. The possessions of the late-twenties couple hasn't caught up to the space they have. But they are very sweet and obviously successful. Each generation of our family seems to get further and further in the world. Crawling out of the low pay of farming and teaching to more professional careers.
I've got to say that I'm largely dismissive of the whole scouting experience as a way of raising your kid to be 'trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, trifty, brave, clean and reverent.' To 'be prepared.' To 'do a good turn daily.' But these kids seem so nice it's hard not to be proud of them and of their parents. Maybe they will really be better citizens than the kid in the low rider jeans with the garage band. Unless he becomes, you know, like Bono of U2. But we are proud of our little Eagle today. He's a good kid. And as my cousin says when showing a picture of the kids as little boys in a 'formation': "The Boy Scouts aren't a paramilitary organization and the boys proved it every chance they got."
* For an explanation of cousin-hood see here.
my cousin's kid acknowledges his mentors at the end of the ceremony