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Pack 116 knew of my dirty little secret, but I hadn’t pushed any electioneering around the Scouts. That was just way too tacky, and wasn’t done. The Boy Scouts didn’t allow that sort of thing. “Well, sort of. I don’t get sworn in until January. Can I help you fellows? You look a little young to be lobbyists.”

The boys looked confused by that, but several of the adults laughed at this. Bill Baker, who was sitting next to me, asked, “You get that a lot?”

“More than you can imagine!” I turned back to the Scouts. “What’s up guys?”

They looked at each other nervously, now that they were in the presence of the ‘great man’, but one of their leaders motioned them on. “Go on.”

The boy who had asked if I was a Congressman stepped forward slightly and stammered a bit, “Uh, I’m working… we’re working on our Citizenship in the Nation merit badge.”

The boy standing next to him piped up and said, “For our Eagle requirement!”

It was starting to dawn on me what was happening. I smiled and nodded. “And let me guess. One of your requirements is to meet a Congressman?” It didn’t sound quite right, but when I was teaching merit badges when Parker was a Scout, I didn’t teach any of the Citizenship badges (Community, Nation, and World). Maybe it was a requirement.

They looked at each other and stepped closer, loosening up a bit. A third boy said, “Uh, not quite, but we were wondering…” He dug a pamphlet out of his coat pocket and flipped it to the first page.

“Hold on, fellows. First things first. The first part of citizenship is courtesy to your fellow citizens. Tell me who you are! My name is Congressman-Elect Carl Buckman. Who are you guys?” I said with a smile.

The first boy blinked at that and said, “Jerry Reeves, sir. Troop 420, out of Westminster.”

I stuck my hand out and he shook it. “Nice to meet you, Jerry.” I went around the small circle, shaking hands and getting their names. “Now, what’s this requirement?”

“Uh…” he took the book from his friend and read a few lines. “… Name your two senators and the member of Congress from your congressional district. Write a letter about a national issue and send it to one of these elected officials, sharing your view with him or her. Show your letter and any response you receive to your counselor.” He handed me the booklet and pointed to the line.

“Okay, so name the Senators,” I challenged them.

“Paul Sarbanes and Barbara Mikulski!” answered a little guy at the end of the line.

“Correct. Now, who was your Congressman?”

Jerry answered, “It was Andy Stewart.”

“Until you beat him!” tossed in another boy. There were a few snickers among the adults at this.

“Right. So, what do you need to do, write me a letter and get a response? You need my address?”

The boys looked at each other in confusion. I didn’t think they had figured it out that far. “I guess,” said one of them.

“Got a notepad and pencil?” They started patting their pockets, and I joked, “Whatever happened to being prepared?”

I climbed up out of my chair and moved over to the picnic table. “Let’s make this simple, guys. Have a seat.” I positioned them around the picnic table and placed my camp chair at the head of the table. “Let’s pick a topic and talk about it, and I’ll count that as the letter and we’ll sign off on it. Okay?”

“Can we do that?”

“Sure we can! I’m a Congressman, right?” I winked at one of their leaders, who wasn’t anywhere near as impressed as the boys were. He was probably a Democrat! He grinned and gave me a thumbs up sign.

I started leading the boys into a discussion about something close to their hearts, which was school. I had been a teacher in the past, and I always preferred the Socratic Method rather than lecturing as a teaching tool. Ask the kids the questions and use their answers to prompt more questions, leading them to the point you were trying to make. They figure the answers out themselves rather than being told the answers. We talked about how to make schools better and what some of the problems might be with their ideas. For instance, do we increase the length of the school year, and does that mean we now have to raise the pay of teachers and raise taxes to pay for that? Things can get complicated quickly, and you normally need some compromises.

After about an hour, one of their Scoutmasters came over and tapped his watch. “Time to get back and make dinner, guys.”

I looked around and nodded. “Our guys are getting back, too. Listen, I gave you my address, so feel free to write me. If I can help you out, let me know. The most important thing isn’t that there’s a right or wrong to this stuff. The important thing is that you care enough to ask the questions and think about the answers. You’ll be voting in a few more years, so keep thinking about this stuff.”

The boys popped up, and I shook their hands and they shuffled out of camp. Their leaders also shook my hand and thanked me. “You’re welcome. Do you need me to sign off on something?” I asked.

“Nah! I’ll sign off on it. I’m the merit badge counselor on this for the troop, so this is good enough for me,” said one of the men.

“Well, feel free to let your boys know I’m good for this sort of thing. In fact, let the word out, if any Scouts in the Council need to speak to a Congressman or want me to do something for the Scouts, for any reason, they can dig me up. In most ways, teaching these kids is more important than any other stuff I do.”

“And you go camping with these guys?”

I laughed at that. “My boy’s a Webelo. Why else would I be sleeping in a tent?! There’s a reason we started building houses, you know!”

They laughed at that, and then thanked me again and left. I repeated my comment to the Cubmaster, and told him to get the word to the Council. I probably wouldn’t have the time to teach merit badges, but I could still help out. Then the Webelos came back, loudly talking about how they had all started fires. Pack 116, building pyromaniacs one boy at a time!

Part of the secret to running a good camping trip is to have too much for the boys to do. Idle hands are the Devil’s workshop, and that sort of thing. Keep them busy all day long learning things, then have a few contests and games, followed by dinner. After dinner we made them do the cleanup, and led them off to the giant bonfire, for singing and skits.

The funniest part was at the end of the night, after the bonfire, when we were back at our campsite around our own fire. One of the boys looked out into the darkness and asked, “Are there any bears around here?”

Most of the adults chuckled, but I leaned forward and said, “Absolutely! In fact, when I was a Scout, I was up here at this very campsite, and a bear found me, right here!”

I could see a few of the other adults trying to stifle their grins, but the boys were all wide-eyed and looking at me. The first boy asked breathlessly, “What’d you do?”

“Well, I climbed up a tree, right over there,” I answered, pointing to the forest.

“And the bear left you alone?”

“Well, pretty much. He tried to push the tree over but it wouldn’t fall, so he left and came back with a second bear, an even bigger bear! That was really scary, let me tell you!”

“So, what’d you do then?” I was asked.

“Well, I stayed in the tree, and both bears tried to push it over. They couldn’t though, so they went away, and then they came back with a third bear, an even bigger bear! I really thought I was in trouble then!”

“But they couldn’t push it over, right, Dad?” asked Charlie. He was as rapt as the other boys.

“Nope, they pushed and pushed and pushed some more, but it wouldn’t tumble over, so all three bears left. I just stayed up there for awhile, so they could all leave.”