Front Row Seat at a Three Ring Circus

They’re selling posters of the surfers. Celebrities all around.
Developers and real estate, buying up the ground.
Here comes the fire commissioner, the hills are all ablaze.
Sheriffs and their deputies chasing the bums away.
While right-wingers and the lefties fighting in the headline news
Crowds push thru the turnstiles to the three-ring circus blues

Wonderland – the first arena

Miramar by the sea. Look at me. Look at me. Miramar by the sea. What is
beautiful needs no adorning. Blessed be the Gods of Real Estate and
show business, Miramar has been an enclave of the motion picture
industry since the late 1920s when groups of actors, actresses and movie
officials established the Colony, a Pacific Riviera on a mile-long strip
of beach just west of a natural estuary and lagoon. This tract of land, and
golden sands, developed from the massive Fringe estate, a property
spanning 26 miles of scenic beauty along the California Coast Rancho
Miramar built as a farm near the ocean, under the lee of themountains, with
brook trout, wild trees, good soil, and excellent climate. On 13,000 acres of
this SoCal estate the Fringe family built a private railroad, a dam,
commercial dairy, oil wells, a ceramic tile factory, horse ranches and a
family home adjoining one of the most desirable surfing beaches in the
world. From the late 1950s, your narrator’s family homes were built on
Miramar by the sea. Look at me. What is beautiful needs no adorning.

Fire on the Mountain – the second arena

Now ladies and gentlemen, let’s turn our attention to ringmaster Wiley
Timmons here in the center stage where you’ve never seen the frowns on
the jugglers and the clowns while they all do tricks for you. Watch as we
take you down, down, down through the burning rings of fire as the
story of Mira-mar is quickly retold through the history of fire on the
mountain. Over the past 100 years 30 fires have burned thru the hills,
homes and wild life of this beautiful coastal and mountain terrain. At one
time or another, almost 90% the land been has been scorched to the
ground. Over many years, the fires in these hills have seared thru the
Miramar three-ring circus lives of Wiley, his friends, and family.

1928 – Las Flores fire (428 acres)
1930 – Portrero fire (20,000 acres)
1935 – Miramar fire (30,000 acres)
1938 — Pot-anga fire (30,000 acres)
1956 – Sherwood / Zuma (56,000 acres)
1970 – Wright Fire (28,000 acres)

• There’s smoke on the water, fire in the sky as Wiley drives away to college with a boy’s bindlestiff of books, bags and guitar gazing at a young life gone by thru the haze of a rear-view mirror

1978 – Kanan fire (25,000 acres)
1982 – Dayton fire (43,000 acres)
1993 – Green Meadows (38,000 acres)
1993 – Pot-anga fire (36,000 acres)

• The house of Wiley’s brother is toast.

1996 – Calabasas fire (12,000 acres)
2007 – Coral canyon (4,500 acres)
2018 – Last and largest, the Woolsey Fire burned in Miramar hills & homes.

The fire ignited, in November burned 96,949 acres
destroying 1,643 structures, killing three people, and
prompting the evacuation of more than 295,000 residents. ¾ of the mountain sanctuary acres were gone.

Home Town News – the third arena

The mega-fire of the devastating Woolsey blaze drew back the curtains
from the decades of Miramar growth and development. Smoke and
mirrors, smoke and mirrors. An awakening for this dyslexic atheist
insomniac who stayed awake all night wondering if there is a dog. A
memory too weird for words (but here we go anyways). Through the lifting
of the smoke, fire, haze and in the ashes of the burn scar emerged the
digital footprint of Miramar daily life. Week by week, year by year, here are
the stories of community life retold in the archives of the Miramar News,
these back pages appearing to a man-child with kaleidoscope eyes.
Naturally, we had to rearrange their pages and give them all another name.
Return with us now to those thrilling days of yesteryear as we enter the
Miramar time machine tumbling, tumbling back thru the headlines
of the weekly home town journal. Picture yourself in a boat on a river…as
we move to the next arena of our three-ring circus.

Horsing Around in Miramar

REMUDA –

The Miramar Remuda, a two-day celebration of culture and heritage held September 27-28, 1947, took its name from the corral that vaqueros would use to select a horse for the day. The event featured this impressive display of horses (over 900 riders) on both days, in addition to a circus, a “western bathing beauty contest,” aquatic races, and an air show

Riders and Ropers Christen a Corral
Miramar Queen coronation at gymkhana horse show.
Miramar 4H Plays hosts to horses and celebrities

Nancy and Ron, popular TV and motion picture stars visit a horse show

Building Up the Ground

Brought to you by Propertese God of Real Estate
Ranch sells for 400 pesos (1848)
Beach homes once could be bought for $4500
Atomic Power Plant in Miramar proposed
Hollywood premier for local supermarket opening
Ocean causeway to divert 4-lane highway traffic

Celebritese – God of the Show-Biz Enclave

$1 blue plate special at the Miramar Inn (home of the Shrimp Boat) and
Celebrity gathering spot where photos adorn the walls
Warren Beauty Reports Theft From Parked Car
Stars Hang out at the Tiki Bar
Tiki Bar Drink Menu –

• Singapore Sling, Planters Punch, Cobra’s Fang, Skull and Bones,      Fog Cutter, Navy Grog and my favorite – the Suffering Bastard

Charles Boyer rents a house
Group Formed for Those who are Really Serious About Being Funny
Ingrid Bergman Dresses up as Joan of Arc
Elizabeth Taylor sports an Easter hat (with Parisian smartness)
Hit Parade Beauty Queen – Peach on the Beach is Out of Reach
Cisco Kid elected Miramar mayor

The Battle for the Headline News

Sputnik Sails over Miramar (11-8-57)
Freedom Document Foundation –
‘A Bible and the Constitution in every American home’
Put the United States Back Together Again. Elect Richard Nixon
It’s Time to Wake Up Americans

• Frenzied plea of the Communist Party is dedicated to overthrow the USA
  And ‘Bury Us’. The People’s World newspaper urges the defeat of Barry
  Goldwater. What is going on in this country?

RF Kennedy romps in Miramar surf before night of tragedy
Reagan Rally Set / 14 Arrested for Weed Possession
Home town rally for gubernatorial candidate
Local John Birch Members Hold Meeting
Democrats with funny hats
Negro War Hero Seeks Job in Miramar

GOP Women hold a teen essay contest – Why Be a Republican?
The following principles best describe the cornerstone of Republicanism

1. The individual – a spiritual rational being is the most important element
   of our society.
2.  Government exists to serve the individual, not the individual to serve
   the government
3. The individual’s economic needs are best provided by a healthy system
   of free enterprise
4. The United States must be strong and reliant as an individual nation
   In a world of unstable international relations.

Chasing the Bums Out of Town

Burglar Steals Shave Whisky and Cigarettes
Parsing the local newspaper from ’46 thru ’69 on the derelicts of the Mirarmar town. Here’s the tally – Hobo-2, Beatnik-10, Tramp-25, Hippy-20, Hippies-31, Bums-40.
Studio Group Holds ‘Hobo’ Party at Cove

Lifestyles and Culture Wars

Psychedelic Cult Colony Opens in the Miramar Mountain Canyon

• Founders envision a community devoted to creative efforts and exchange of
  Ideas. A combination of Summerhill and Synanon. Direct personal
  Confrontation and self-actualized freedom are blended

Psychedelic Cult Colony Closes in the Canyons

• The Strawberry Patch, a 40 acre tract leased by a small group of persons
  identified with the hippy Movement. 65 persons living in tents and frame
  structures

Beatniks Not Seen in Poland Reports Local Veterinarian  
– (president of the Optimists Club)
Woman Slugged by Hippie Type
Hippy Philosophy in 5 short words

• ‘Some one had to plant and water that flower’
  ‘Oh. I thought they just grew’

Beach Cave Shelters Hippies
Drug-crazed youth goes berserk in Sherriff’s Station
Like Way Out – Is the American Beatnik an Imitation Negro?

Pink Lady in the Nudes (1966).

• Pink Lady in the News (Nudes). –
  Little Men from Venus Take Credit for Nude Lady Painting
  Gray paint washes over Miramar Canyon painting.

Looking in on a “Happening ”; It’s Wild, Weird, But What is It”?

• Not wanting to look like squares, but not having the rags to looks like hippies we wore blue jeans and sweat shirts and jazzed it up with big pendants hanging around our necks. I  wanted to wear my granny glasses but no one would go if I did

Marijuana Round-Up Nets 15 Musicians, Hangers on in Pot-anga

• Buffalo Springfield and Cream
  Five young musicians busted
  10 women detained (16-31 occupations as singer, model, student, entertainer,
  Sculptress, photographer, housewife and public relations girl)

The Fierce Infinity, New Book of Poems, published by Miramar author

Without a Label (side show leaving the arena)

It’s Time for Fun When the Grunion Run – But Use Patience
Big Fish Caught in the Bay Snow blankets Miramar
Woman Falls Asleep; Hits Two Telephone Poles
School bus driver retires after 24 years and 800,00 miles

Miramar Surfers Win at Meet

• Duke Hawaii Recalls First Surfing in Miramar at the Fringe estate
• Problems with the wild ones – surfer tantrums and beer can throwing
• Miramar Beach Association Throws a Hawaiian Luau

First class officers elected for Junior High – Wiley Timmons, Sergeant at Arms.

Star Child Stepping Out of the Time Tunnel

Exiting the Time Tunnel, we meet ourself (again) – The Star Child

Wiley – younger than that now

Bold Defiance (last animal standing)

A carbonized rattlesnake frozen in time in the wake of Miramar fires

A Mirror Marred by the Scene

Les Fleur d’Mal (et Blues)

Mal et Blues
Mal et Blues
Le mer c’est bleu
Le mer c’est bleu
Comment allez vous?
Le Miserlou? Les Miserables?
The fugitive can find no job.
Les Fleur d’Mal ecrit par Baudelaire
Speaks poetry to clear the air.
Miramar by the sea
Look at me. Look at me.

What is beautiful, needs no adorning.

The Case of the Disappearing Friendship                                                                          

INVOCATION TO AMUSE MEANT

HARRY HOUDINI’S TOAST TO ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE

Abra-cadabra. Presto-Chango.
To my friend Conan Doyle, your writings grow strange-o                                                           Of elves and faeries this Hocus-Pocus
Perhaps Sherlock Holmes will soon lose his focus.
That keen eye for crime’s cruel seductions,
Your hero’s sharp mind, his skillful deductions
Unravelling the clues through the dark streets of London,
As each case twists and turns you bring before us
Nefarious characters soon brought to justice.

Let us sing your praises, our glasses, let’s raise them –
A toast to Sir Arthur, your writings and canon,
To Holmes and Watson from this crystal chalice
Hear, here we cheer at the hotel Brown Palace.

Alas, your Spiritism I’ve debunked and banished
Forever our friendship completely has vanished.

Presented by Tim Weil at the 2019 DWNP Sherlock Holmes Birthday Dinner
Copyright © 2018 Tim Weil – Security Feeds LLC

Reference – The End of a Beautiful Friendship (Jill Harness

The Daily Grind

SusieQ woke up Saturday morning feeling ‘pressed’;  not depressed, repressed, oppressed or compressed.  Just ‘pressed’.  After Friday night’s wing-ding party, “Prince is Gone, so let’s Dance, Dance, Dance” she struggled to lift the downy bed coverlet off those sleepy blue eyes her willpower and effort focused on reading the oversized RED-LED clock facedial.  10am already.  “Shit, I’m late to work,” she wheezed and reaching to the headboard counter, fumbled for her pink I-Thing call machine to dial in to the daily grind.

“Hello, Queequeg, this is your busy barista,

SusieQ  letting you know I’ll be an hour latte.  Please tell my Coffee-Mates, Stubb and Flask, to cover for me at

Starstrucks.  I’ll be there as quick as I can.”  Click.

The struggle ahead to get past blankets, into working attire and off driving in her canary-yellow Fit was definitely an  uphill slog.  Damn.  She had “Purple Rain” on the brain and kept spinning last night’s DJ playlist into her jukebox mind.  “When Doves Cry, Let’s Go Crazy, Kiss (me) and let’s do the Bat Dance”.  Let’s face it – she always loved the artist formerly known as Alexander Nevermind / James Coco (not cocoa) and she did her best to brush the purple glitter from her hair as she prepped for the work ahead.  She laughed as she looked at the Starstrucks company dress code (green apron, slacks and appropriate jewelry) she had taped to the bathroom mirror.  With a flick of the wrist, she tossed the ‘uniform of the day’ into the laundry hamper.  No green apron for her today, that’s for sure.

With ‘purple passion’ pulsing in her veins, SusieQ went back to her clothes rack and emerged as Prince’s Princess,  dazzling in a polka dot pantsuit featuring a speckled black blouse and white pants offset with a dashing neck scarf.  Just to get things right, she topped off the getup with a Starstruck hat, adorned with her Prince-ness picture, looking regal and rockin’.  ‘Let’s  get going’ she mused and motored off to the mall to get it on with the coffee crowd.  As she made the scene at the Starstruck shoppe, SusieQ glided in the door just 45 minutes late to her shift.  She was singing and toe-tapping her way and the food droid staff smiled and quickly picked up the beat.  “Hey Queequeg, let’s get a double machiatto on the rush.   Stubb and Flask, harpoon me baby with some Mocoa, White Chocolate Mud”.

“One, two, three, let’s work.  C’mon let’s have some fun.  We’ll work till the morning comes.  Let me see you work”.

Do the daily grind.

Appliance Time Again                                        

(with apologies to Buck Owens and Ray Charles)

CHORUS: It’s appliance time again, the fridge is broken
This old icebox it ain’t workin’ anymore
Yesterday she threw the mayonnaise in the garbage
A pool of water lies beneath the door.

The crisper holds the lettuce and the veggies
The temperature’s gettin’ mighty warm
Our box is livin’ way beyond it’s shelf life
We ain’t chillin’ out the way we did before.

CHORUS

The repair guy say the themostat  stopped workin’
The beer is warm, the food has started thawin’
Got to shop for a new refrigerator
After writin’ out the words to this sad song

CHORUS

Now they say AMANA’s gonna need a woman
My gal says that’s a brand I gotta try
But if she fills our icebox up with onions
I’ll bow my head and slowly start to cry.

CHORUS

Well it’s cryin’ time again look what she leaves me
A dead refrigerator and what’s more
This appliance and these cryin’ eyes are grievin’
My babe walked out the house and slammed the door.

CHORUS

The FRIGIDAIRE stopped coolin’ yesterday
And the WHIRLPOOL is headin’ down the drain
Our love’s defrosted baby, the ice just melts away
It’s appliance time again, you know I’m leavin’

CHORUS

Copyright © 2018 Tim Weil – Security Feeds LLC

The Ultimatum – Get in Shape

story by Ralph Underwood Fit

One, two, three, four.  Work it out.  Work it out.  One, two, three, four.  Get in SHAPE, Get in SHAPE.  One, two, three, four.  Are you fit?  Are you fit?  One, two, three, four.  Help yourself.  Get in SHAPE.  Work it out.  Please allow me to introduce myself, I’m a man of health and fame.  Ralph Underwood Fit is my name.  My students know me as RU Fit, your personal trainer for the ‘Get in SHAPE’ program.  Try to see it my way and we can work it out.  Get it?  Here’s the deal – with my four-part system, I’m here to help you help yourself with the ‘Self Help Assessment Plan Evaluation’system.  That’s SHAPE, for short.   The shorthand for HELP is easy to understand.  H-E-L-P

H – Have a problem?

E-   Everyone does

L-   Let’s get together and

P –  Party

Now I know you’ve seen those TV bunko artists with the perfect hair and perfect teeth pacing the stage with a headset-microphone pitching all kinds of self-improvement programs – save your money, eat wholesome food, follow my exercise program, learn to bowl or save your soul.  With our SHAPE system you’ll have the tools to empower your life.  The cost to you, the dinner theater audience, is absolutely free and if you’re not  satisfied, we will provide a money back-guarantee.   As I like to tell my students, there’s something lost and something gained in living every day.   So let’s get on with the show.

Living here in the Rocky Mountains, Colorado country, we are at the center of the fitness universe.  Folks move here from around the world to find a self-improvement training program of choice.  It might be body-shaping, cross-fit training aerobics, pilates, weight training, or the extreme sports like ultrarunning, alpine climbing, high altitude trail running, mountain biking, parachuting, couloir skiing, free-soloing, mountaineering, cross-country skiing, downhill racing and the like.  To be clear, our program is about none of that stuff.  The X-Games are not Y-U-R-Here.  RU Fit’s ‘Get in SHAPE program starts with one basic assumption – ‘I still haven’t found, what I’m looking for’.  Here’s the deal.

We all remember the characters in the Wizard of Oz, right?  The Scarecrow who lacks a brain and desires above all else to have one; the Cowardly Lion, king of the jungle, who looks for courage and nerve to conquer his fear and finallythe Tin Woodman who states that he has neither heart nor brain, but cares nothing for the loss of his brain.  As the song goes …

I could while away the hours, conferrin’ with the flowers
Consultin’ with the rain.
And my head I’d be scratchin’ while
my thoughts were busy hatchin’
If I only had a brain.

When a man’s an empty kettle he should be on his mettle,
And yet I’m torn apart.
Just because I’m presumin’ that I could be kind-a-human,
If I only had heart.

Life is sad, believe me, Missy,
When you’re born to be a sissy
Without the vim and verve.
But I could change my habits, never more be scared of rabbits
If I only had the nerve.

The RU Fit SHAPE system begins with a similar set of problems.  Mine.  It was helplessness, and lots of it.  Hence the desire to be helpful.  To get the heart of the matter, I developed the SHAPE program out of a strong desire to help people help themselves.  Here’s a few examples.   In junior high iI was raising money for the Toys for Tots program providing the Marine Corps recruiters with gifts for the young victims of the Vietnam war.  In high school I was leading fund drive for the US AID program, providing protein powder food supplements to the starving Ibo population suffering malnutrition and genocide in the Nigerian Biafran war.  In the college years, I was helping a Mexican family reunite across the US border and later, I did combat duty as an inner city bilingual school teacher in South Center Los Angeles – a war zone in an urban barrio.  At some point during those teaching years, RU Fit got the message, ‘help yourself Mr. Teacher man. we’ve got to get out of this place if it’s the last thing we ever do”.

Fast forward a few decades and let’s take a close look at the SHAPE program in action.  The case study involves   the Rebuilding Together program, a national non-profit group that organizes home improvement projects  The raison d’etre behind Rebuilding Together is providing good will, volunteer effort to provide help to families or individuals in need of assistance.   Similar to the ‘Habitat for Humanity’, this program is the nation’s largest home/community repair program with thousands of projects across the country every year.  In one day, houses are made into homes, racial, social and religious barriers are broken and lives are transformed.  Back in the Washington DC area, our temple volunteered one year to the next either painting, scraping, hauling or hammering to put a new look on an old home.

In the early ‘90s, we met a man who had certainly helped himself in Life.  Warner was an 80-year old black man living alone in a 3-story townhouse off Florida Ave in Northeast DC.  As a proud army veteran, Warner had marched into Berlin at the end of WWII as part of the liberation forces.  His distinguished military career lasted another 30 years and in the early ‘70s he was discharged with honors from the service.  His home was decorated with medals and commendations and yet he had been living alone for many years, a ward of his church, with no immediate family to care for him.   Although blind in one eye, Warner could take care of himself, and he liked to cook.  To improve his home, a project was planned to remodel his kitchen and the Rebuilding Together team began work on a Saturday with a tear-out of the old cabinet and countertop fixtures.   In the corner of his kitchen, our crew piled the cabinet contents onto a few tables so everything was ready for the remodeling job the next day.

On Sunday morning our crew chief Larry and I parked in the alley behind Warner’s home.  It was early in the day, an hour or so before the remodeling volunteers were scheduled to arrive.  “You know Larry, I’d be relieved if you go to meet Warner.  Chaos is about to descend on his home.  You might want to see if he’s still expecting us to invade his townhouse to pound nails, scrape paint and make noise on this early Sunday morning. Let’s make sure that Warner is in good SHAPE before the worker bees arrive”.   So Larry left the van in the alley and walked around to the front door while I waited for the ‘all clear’ sign to come on in.  It was one of those moments in life when everything comes to a complete stop, like the scene in that sci-fi classic, ‘The Day the Earth Stood Still’ when Klaatu the alien freezes time to give humans a last chance to save themselves from mutually assured destruction, self- annihilation, nuclear war and the like.  After twenty minutes or so, Larry came out the back door of Warner’s home, looking white as a ghost.

“What happened Larry?”

“Something bad,” he said.

“Did Warner have a heart attack?”

“No, worse”.

“Did he die?”

“No, worse”.

“OK, he didn’t die or have a heart attack, what could be worse than that?”

“Around 7am, Warner got out of bed and went downstairs to fix breakfast.  He went over to the kitchen stuff we had left in the corner and poured himself a glass of apple juice.  The four ounces of fluid he drank was PineSol, not apple juice.  He did manage to call 911 before he collapsed and the medics were wheeling him out the front door when I arrived”.

“Holy crap.   What should we do with all the volunteers coming over to fix his kitchen?” “I’ll take care of the crew”, he said.  “Let’s have you call the Rebuilding Together office and get some advice”. I rang up the local HQ and explained in a panic that ‘we’d fixed his wagon, not the kitchen’.  They told me to stay put while they sent their attorney over to take a deposition.   While awaiting the legal-eagle to arrive I started thinking once again about the desire to be helpful and the design of the SHAPE program we are presenting tonight.  A few basic ideas came to mind.

1. The road to hell is paved with good intentions
2. Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong
3. Murphy was an optimist
4. No good deed goes unpunished

To this very day,   still hear Warner, mumbling something about, ‘go help yourself’ as they rolled him out the door In the end, the whole mess sorted itself out.  They pumped his stomach in the hospital, the crew built out the kitchen, the attorney got his statement and the Rebuilding Together program learned a thing or two about dealing with adversity in the mission of helping other people’s lives.

OK?  Got the picture?  The SHAPE system (a  Self-Help Assessment Evaluation Program) is designed to make helpful people more successful with their mission.  Unfortunately, things don’t always work out as planned.   Remember that example,  Klaatu the alien, in ‘The Day the Earth Stood Still’.  He lands his spaceship on the DC mall and emerges with his sidekick, Gort to bring peace and harmony to our ragtag planet Earth.  And what happens?  He presents a harmless device as “a gift for the American President… to study life on other planets. The army guys shoot him, right?  Nevermind, he’s a determined fellow (Klaatu Barada Nikto).  At the end of the film he stops all electric power on Earth for 30 minutes to show what would happen if we humans threaten peace in space,  Damn if the soldiers shoot him again.  You just can’t win.

One, two, three, four.  Work it out.  Work it out.  One, two, three, four.  Get in SHAPE, Get in SHAPE.  One, two, three, four.  Are you fit?  Are you fit?  One, two, three, four.  Help yourself.  Get in SHAPE.  Work it out.  Try to see it my way and we can work it out.  Get it?  Here’s the deal – about that four-part SHAPE system, it turns out that the HELP we are assessing is really another acronym, word scramble and when properly sorted out leads us to the conclusion (almost) – Help stands for – ‘HUMANIZE EVERY LIVING PERSON’ (so Help me finish) –

If I wanted your assistance / I’d offer no resistance / Trying never to escape

I would take your HELP on Sunday / To my office on the Monday /And work to get in SHAPE.

I may not be the wizard / To fix or tame a blizzard / To keep us safe and warm

But with the HELP we are providing / We’ll take your shadow out of hiding / Give you shelter from the storm

If this story has a moral / To keep with you tomorrow /It’s a straight and simple song

Just SHAPE up your demeanor / To keep from getting meaner / Can’t we all just get along?

And that’s the SHAPE we’re in

NY Times obit-tribute  4/1/17 –http://securityfeeds.net/tweil/city_of_yes_no/yevtushenko_obit.pdf

The City of Yes and the City of No – a surging outcry against repression

Performance Poet (1966) – LIFE photo

Book signing at Washington Festival of Books (2006)

© 2016 Tim Weil, Stories and Songs

The Troop Song

The Hawk Patrol has standards high
We’re moving forward all the time
This cast of hawks never lets you down
We’re Scouters on the uphill climb
We’re honor bound to service
On brotherhood our aims depend
We’re all of like persuasion joined
That Scouting may not ever end

Fall of the Leader

On a sunny August Sunday in the Maine woods, parents, friends and scouts slowly stumble out of their campsites for the breakfast drill.  Cooks assemble, coffee pots heat and the pancake griddle sizzles.  No one is really awake and several kids pull the sleeping bag over their heads in hope of avoiding yet another work detail.  Scoutmaster Pat Donnelly (Mr. D), has yet to appear.  This summer marks his 20^th  year with Troop33, and the memory of many trips gone by drifts over this campground – scenic places along the Eastern seaboard as far north as Acadia National Park in Maine, as far west as Mammoth Cave in Kentucky, and as far south as the Great Smokey Mountains in North Carolina.

As shepherd of the flock, Mr. D. had seen it all – hundreds of teenage boys, dozens of adventures, family convoys and the almost accidental progress of boys growing into men.  With scouting as a compass, pointing towards the North Star of young adulthood, he has guided these lads past family comforts into the world of uncertainty and beyond.  Yes, Mr. D. has seen it all, but today he does not rise for the morning program.

Two scouts playing cards at a picnic table are interrupted by a young boy frightened and shaking as he tries to speak.  “Did you hear what happened?  Mr. D. has died in his tent.  Heart attack”.  The card players laugh.  “It’s too early for jokes.  Why don’t you go chop wood, make a fire and burn some bacon?  We’ve got better things to do than to listen to your nonsense”.  But the joke won’t go away.   As the morning unfolds, a tragedy of silence spreads from Mr. D.’s tent and fear takes holds throughout the troop.  Faced with the harshness of a death in the woods adults scramble making calls to 911.  A medical team arrives to take Mr. D. away.    The troop has lost their leader.

The chaos of an aborted camping trip follows with  the slow sadness of campsite breakdown and the long sullen drive home to Maryland with cars full of sorrowful children and grieving friends.

Closing the Ranks

In the sad summer weeks ahead, a proper memorial is arranged for Mr. D. and dozens of tributes pour in, testimony to the years of community service Mr. D. has given to Troop33.  A new scoutmaster steps forward, Frankie Cloud (Mr. C), himself an Eagle Scout, now a government attorney with his own son part of the program.  Other parents, new to the troop, step forward to offer volunteer service.  Wiley Timmons is one of these new recruits.  A former public school teacher, with a teenager in Troop33, his experience is zero (“my mom paid me $5 to quit cub scouts”).   No matter.  Wiley’s wife, Marigold, gives him plenty of encouragement.  Her dad, Lloyd, had been a Colorado scoutmaster for twenty years, a Norman Rockwell type of  ‘knowing and capable’ leader.  ‘You’ll figure it out as you go’ she says.

Encouraged by Marigold and welcomed by Mr. C., Wiley asks for advice.  “So what do I do next?”.  Mr. C. recommends Wiley to a Scout Leadership program and asks him to enroll, accompanied by Eddie, a college dropout on his second (or third) drug rehab program.  .Mr. C. is plain in his motives.  “Looking to you two to ‘learn the ropes’ so to speak and maybe help Eddie get his act together.  How’s that sound?  By the way, you’ve already missed the first class but I’m sure you can figure this program out.  You know, ‘tie the knots, sing the songs, learn some first aid, camping skills, leadership training and stuff like that”.  Wiley is ready to go.  He’s moving forward, all the time.

The Hawk Patrol

On a Tuesday night, at a Methodist Church near the county landfill, Wiley and Eddie join the Hawk Patrol, a group of 10 adults assembled as a working scout team.  Their leader and coach is Russ Faraday, an off-duty motorcycle policemanbuilt like an offensive lineman.  Russ knows how to get your attention, give orders, and train adults as capable scout leaders.   He is quick with advice – “There will be 4 more meetings of the Hawk patrol followed by an overnight camping weekend to test your scouting and leadership skills.  You know, tie the knots, sing the songs, first aid, camping skills and following orders.   Stuff like that.  Each meeting begins with a color guard, Pledge of Allegiance and the Troop Song .  With 6 other patrols  enrolled  we have 70 adults for the leadership program.  “Don’t miss any class and you’ll all be fine.  As the song  goes ‘we’re all of like persuasion joined that scouting may not ever end’.

The weeks go by quickly .  By the fourth class Eddie is gone.   Wiley keeps up with his studies.  He likes the songs.  Fire safety, merit badges, orienteering, first aid are easy for him.  Following orders,  not so much.  This thing about the patrol method (chain of command) just doesn’t fit his 60s-era, anarchist personality.  Russ always offers sage advice –  ‘Buckle up, huckle buck.  We’re moving forward all the time’.  By week 5 the Hawk patrol are ready for the overnight camping weekend at a local state park and for two days they run the gamut of scouting drills.  Highlighting scout teamwork, Hawk Patrol builds a bridge out of timber and rope, lashing together a sturdy structure allowing 20 adults to ford a narrow stream. On Saturday afternoon clouds darken and the rain pours into the night.  Now the program is really getting under Wiley’s skin.

That rainy evening, on kitchen duty, he gets the KP assignment as dessert chef tocreate Peach Cobbler surprise using Dutch oven and coals.  Too bad he can’t follow directions – Can of peaches, biscuit mix, sugar, fire and coals are the recipe for Dutch oven cooking.  No one told him about putting coals on top of the Dutch oven cast iron lid.  Without overhead heat from the coals, the doughy biscuit mix sinks into the mélange of lukewarm peaches and juice, creating a lovely tepid mixture, a chewy fruit surprise.  Good though.  Given the cold and  rainy weather, culinary skills don’t matter and Hawk Patrol devours the dessert.

Shake Down

After this deluge in the woods, the Hawk Patrol’s soggy weekend ends on Sunday afternoon and Wiley emerges a seasoned scout leader.  He has tied the knots, sung the songs, given first aid, and used camping skills, leadership training and stuff like that.  When he gets back to his home and kids (Marigold is away) he goes straight to the hearth to light a wood-stoked fire and bring heat back to his weary bones.   Within minutes, the living room fills with smoke.  ‘Damn the damper’ he curses.   Handkerchief to his face, Wiley fiddles with the fireplace and opens the flue.   Windows fly open and the kids just laugh at their Dad, the scouting man, trying to asphyxiate his family.

Next Tuesday night, Wiley and 70 scout leader trainees arrive for the graduation class.  Lots of high fives, atta-boys and camaraderie of team spirit fill the room.  A couple of speeches from the trainers start the program – ‘be proud of yourselves, you’ve completed the course, learned the skills and are ready to be leaders for your own scouting program’.  As the names are called, Wiley waits for the ‘Ts’ near the end of the alphabet.  ‘Wiley Timmons please come forward’.   In front of the assembled audience, Wiley shuffles forward to receive his certificate from Russ.  The handshake is offered but just before Wiley makes contact Russ pulls back his hand to remark – ‘you missed the 1^st class right?  Sorry, you can’t graduate tonight.  You’ll have to come back in the Spring for the makeup program’.

Dazed and confused, Wiley returns to his Hawk Patrol table.  WTF.  He speaks with the other trainers who advise him to call next week and sort things out.  Making the calls he finds that he’s talking to several members of the county police department who have volunteered their time for scout leadership training.  The general conversation is like trying to talk your way out of a traffic citation – ‘uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, no’.  Come back in the Spring and finish the training’.  Mr. C. offers words of encouragement – ‘you tie the knots, sing the songs, and give first aid, master camping skills, and leadership training.  You’ll be fine’.  Russ sends a ‘mea culpa’ letter.  ‘I should have kept a better eye on you so you wouldn’t miss the makeup class.  I’m still learning myself.  Come back next Spring and finish the training’.

Wiley joins Troop33 as an Assistant Scout Master.  He patiently waits until Spring to finish the leadership training program.  The agenda for class is to recite and study the Pledge of Allegiance and to fold the American flag.  When he passes the class his scouting son consoles him – ‘don’t forget Dad, two thirds of BSA is still BS’.

Fall of the Leader (part II)

A good training program can stick with you for a long time.  With three years of university training Wiley had once managed a year of teaching in the ethnic, inner city neighborhoods of South Central LA.  With six weeks of Scout Leadership training, he has improved.  Wiley stays with his Troop33 program for 10 years and over time helps 25 kids (including both his sons) advance to the rank of Eagle Scout.  Eddie and Russ don’t do so good.

Two years past the Hawk Patrol classes, Eddie makes the local county news, arrested for multiple armed robberies in the affluent homes of suburban Maryland.  He gets fifteen years in the penitentiary for his crimes.  The last time Wiley and Russ run into each other they are both riding the DC metro. Russ is escorting some inner city kids to a Redskins football game.  He remembers Wiley and gives him a football poster for his kids.  A couple of years later Russ appears in the local county news.  On an ‘off-duty’ motorcycle trip in West Virginia, Russ is killed by a car, jumping the median and crashing into the bike.

By now, Mr. C has left Troop33, replaced as Scoutmaster by Sailor Man, another community parent who like Wiley, has gone through the scout training program with Russ.  Together they tie the knots, sing the songs, and give first aid, master camping skills, and leadership training.   Stuff like that.  Wiley and Sailor Man attend the memorial service for Russ,  an evening of tribute and mourning,.  To pay homage to a respected member of this community, a dozen police cars blink their patrol car lights outside the funeral home.  Inside, hundreds of people queue up for the casket viewing and memorial service.  A squad of county policeman perform close-order drill in tribute to their fallen colleague.   Sailor Man and Wiley pay their last respects.

As the song goes, ‘this cast of Hawks never lets you down’.  They carry on Russ’s leadership training, working together with Troop33 for the next severalyears.  They tie the knots, give first aid, and teach the camping skills, passing on the lessons handed down from their Hawk Patrol.  Stuff like that.  Wiley still writes the songs.

Talkin’ Scout Master Blues
At Boy Scout camp, in West Virginia country
Kids went camping with our trusty Scoutmaster
Who brought his whistle and mosquito-net stockings
Took us hiking, canoeing, and rocking
Timber bashing,
Capsizing
Having a good time

Now Troop33 are a mighty good bunch
They get up in the morning just in time for Lunch
When the work patrol starts, you know it’s a winner
They will be on the job when it’s time for Dinner!
‘Cause they’re busy,
Building campfires,
Having a good time

There’s Andrew, Alex, Alex and Chris
And Brian and Brian (who did I miss)
Dan, Danny, Daniel and Daniel
(somebody give me a cocker spaniel)
There’s Evan, Mark, Michael and Nick
Page and Patrick (that will do the trick)
Trina and Tyke (who have I forgot)
Nobody!

This song’s almost over but the story’s not done
There are many more trips that we haven’t begun
So when you’re back in school and Life’s really a bummer
Keep your eyes on the trail
We’ll see you next summer
Timber bashing,
Capsizing,
Having a good time.