The weather Gods have cooperated and given me a sunny, 70-degree day tomorrow, which means I can complete my Eagle Scout project after waiting 36 years.
I’m very excited.
Town officials have been consulted.
Supplies are gathered.
Snacks and beverages will be offered to volunteers.
I’ve even arranged for an expert on gravestone cleaning to join me early in the morning to teach me the proper techniques for removing dirt, lichen, and other debris from headstones.
We want to do this job right.
It will be a great day — hopefully even better than the day I had planned when I was 17 years old.
If you’d like to join me, I’ll be at Center Cemetery in Newington, CT, at the corner of Main Street and Cedar Street, directly behind the Congregational Church, from 11:00 to 2:00 PM. Stop by for 15 minutes or three hours — to clean a headstone, clear debris, or simply say hello.
If you’re not familiar with the circumstances and reasons for this day:
Back in 1988, I was in the midst of completing my service project — the final step in becoming an Eagle Scout – when I went through a windshield during a head-on collision.
Datsun B-210 vs. Mercedes Benz.
While being transported to the hospital, my heart stopped beating, and I stopped breathing before two paramedics used CPR to restore my life.
It was no joke.
I was hospitalized for a week — including two surgeries on my legs (and a third years later) — and spent the next three months recovering from serious head, leg, and chest injuries. During that time, I turned 18 — the deadline for earning the rank of Eagle Scout.
I had aged out of the possibility of making my childhood dream come true during my recovery.
I was aware of this, of course, so I asked my parents to apply for a waiver, an exemption, or an extension that would allow me to recover and then complete my project.
They told me my request was denied.
For almost 25 years, I was angry with the Boy Scouts of America for denying me the opportunity to achieve my childhood dream. I still loved the organization that, in many ways, helped me become the man I am today and never waivered in my support for their good work. For a time, I served as an assistant Scoutmaster for a local Boy Scout troop, and today, Clara and Charlie are members of Scouting, but I could never understand why they would deny me the opportunity to earn the rank I had dreamed about for so long.
It really was my dream, too. Throughout my time in Scouting, I earned every merit badge I could find — well over the required number to earn the rank of Eagle. I quickly ascended the troop’s leadership ladder, moving from patrol leader to assistant senior patrol leader to senior patrol leader by the age of 14 — the highest level of leadership a boy could attain in a Scout troop. I could tie all the knots, swim all the strokes, pitch all the tents, and perform all the life-saving skills that my first aid merit badge demanded. I hiked for miles, built shelters using only twine and the natural elements, and spent hundreds of nights sleeping outdoors.
Scouting was my passion.
Then, a car accident derailed me from attaining my final goal.
For 25 years, I was angry about their decision, and then one day, just a couple of years ago, it hit me:
My parents never requested that waiver or extension.
Why would parents who had never spoken the word “college” to me, never attended a track meet to see me pole vault, never watched me compete in a marching band competition, and nearly missed my high school graduation make the effort required to ask the Boy Scouts of America for an extension.
Two years after this realization, while visiting my former Scoutmaster at a camp reunion, I asked him about it. He said he had no recollection of the request.
“That was a long time ago, so it’s possible, but I don’t remember one.”
Failing to earn the rank of Eagle Scout is one of the greatest disappointments of my life. I know it sounds silly, but when you dream of something for so long and work so hard to attain a goal, failing to make that dream a reality can be devastating.
Though it’s impossible to turn back the clock, and even though I suspect I will always feel disappointed for failing to achieve this goal, I decided to complete the service project I began as a boy to at least bring me some closure and perhaps help me feel a little better about my boyhood failure.
At last, I’m ready to go.
