Family Stories
Girl Scouting, Part 3
The summer after my freshman year of high school I said goodbye to Camp Cielo and my summer experiences as a camper. Unlike prior years, I did not go back for a second session. Instead, I had signed on for a bus trip. It sounded like a fun idea. I'd be gone about a week. The group of us scouts were going to go up to the Big Sur area in a bus. We'd camp up there and go on day trips, including a visit to San Simeon, the place Randolph Hearst built.
And is was a fun trip in many ways. Amazing adventures. But it was hard in several ways. The hardest was that I didn't know anyone else on the trip. I had met some of the group at a planning meeting, but nothing had stuck. Not wanting to be alone, I edged my way into an existing group. They turned out to be quite a remarkable collection of young ladies. We stayed friends and got together when we could for several years, despite the fact that we lived in several different cities. The entire Big Sur area was beautiful. I am grateful that I had a chance to camp there.
San Simeon was remarkable. Years later when Patty Heast was in the news I thought about her childhood having vacations at the Villas. It seemed unreal to me.
Back to the real world I had to deal with my new Scout troop. I had gone along with my friends and joined a Mariner Scout troop led by Mrs. B3. At that time, senior Girl Scouts could choose a generalized troop, or a specialty troop based in specific interests. I had some friends in troops focusing on outdoor skills. There were also troops for girls interested in airplane flying, arts, etc. My new troop was focused on boating skills. One of the first things I found out was that I was one of the few girls in the group that actually knew anything about boats, or navigation, or how to sail, etc.
The leader of the troop, despite the pretense that the girls ran the program, was Mrs. B#3. This woman was remarkable. She was on our town's School Board. Also important to our local Scout Council. She was a person of note in our community, used to getting her own way. And a closet alcoholic. She was the kind that would be drinking by herself at home in the afternoon. Her 3 children knew to leave her home when they got home from school. Mrs. B#3 would be sober enough by the time her husband got home. According to her children, she tended to be a mean drunk.
Mrs. B3 took one look at Monique and decided that she had to go. Monique and Mrs B3's son (same grade as us) had become friends. Mrs. B3 considered Monique to be "trailer trash" and so was unworthy to be around with him. Monique's mom had some strong words with Mrs. B3 and things settled down. Apparently Monique's mom knew too much about Mrs. B3 and was quite willing to tell folks if Mrs. B3 didn't behave. It was clear that Mrs. B3 thought Monique was a BAD INFLUENCE, but otherwise left her alone. Mrs. B3 didn't like me either, but we both knew she needed my knowledge of boats and such.
It somehow wasn't a surprise to me that my new troop was only a year old when we joined. Mrs. B3 had a daughter the grade above us, who was, coincidentally, president of the troop that year. And her daughter's friends. Then she had the 5 of us the year below. We picked up some others along the way. The following year the plan was to add the 2nd half of our prior troop, including Mrs. B2's younger daughter. And the year after that, Mrs. B3's younger daughter. She had a plan.
The real selling point to my friends was the fact that the troop planned to go to Hawaii for 3 weeks at the end of our sophomore year of high school. Us 5 were really just along for the ride. All the planning had already been done by the older girls. We got to help with the fundraisers. And there were a lot of fundraisers. The choice was simple-they trip budget was pretty much set. The leaders knew how much it was going to cost each girl. So it was either help with the fundraisers, or pay the full amount of money. We all fundraised. Probably the biggest was the monthly newspaper drive. Each girls was supposed to bring in 25 feet (!) of newspapers monthly. Anything extra would be applied to the girls individual costs. I put out the word to almost everyone I knew and usually brought twice that each month. My parents ended up not having to pay very much.
But I had been exposed to a larger world of Girl Scouting, so my troop was not the only place I spent time with Scouts. I was volunteered to be our troops Representative to the group that was planning the annual Mariner Girl Scout competition. It was call "Gam." I don't remember why. The quickly elected head of the group was a remarkable young woman who ended up calling herself Shane. Shane was the vice-President of a well respected Mariner group in the town just north of mine. It was the troop I had been considering when my friends convinced me to join Mrs. B3's group. Shane was efficient and caring. She was one of the most natural leaders I had met. In the next few years I was to get to know her and several of her friends well.
As part of the program we were required to take part in several career/volunteer work things a year. I chose to be a Public Relations Aid. It meant I spent several months learning about public relations work from a woman who ran the local throw away newspaper. I actually learned a lot.
The other thing I did was to take Basic Survival Training. I have no idea how our Council managed it, but for several years, a group of Girl Scouts were allowed to take the Civil Air Patrol's Basic Survival class. It took place over 2 weekends. The first weekend we spent probably 20 + hours trying to cram everything the instructors (mostly women) could teach us about how to survive a plane crash (which was what the class was really about.
The second weekend we met at the crack of dawn up in the mountains. Each girl (there were 16 of us) was allowed to bring a sleeping bag. We could wear a knife, and we could fill a band aide box full of whatever we thought was useful.
After splitting us up into two groups, and giving us 16 small squares with our number on it, we were taken, one group at a time into a camping area in a jeep. The jeep would suddenly stop and that was our clue to act as if our plane had just crashed. Those of us who ran away properly were fine. Those who had forgotten what the instructors had taught, lost numbered squares.
After surviving the plane crash, each group had to devise a shelter based on the "plane parts" that we "found." We also set traps (which fortunately did not catch anything). And build fires. They gave us parachute material, which is lovely stuff. The 8 of us huddled together that night and did manage to sleep.
Dinner that night showed up in a metal cage-3 live rabbits. Our instructors showed us how to kill , skin and clean them. Of course, they gave our rabbit to one of the most squeamish girls. She was unable to kill our rabbit, so we had to. Not a happy thing. After that it was easy. I learned that, if I'm hungry enough, I don't care if it's an adorable animal. It's food! I passed the class and kept some of the rabbit fur for many years. The squeamish girl and her best friend didn't. Several of the girls I met there I was to spend time with at various Council events for the next several years.
There was also a Council wide event for Senior girls that I attended for many years. That year it was out in the Malibu hills, near where the tv show MASH was filmed. Every year it had a different theme. I always really enjoyed that particular event. It was also at that event that I discovered something about Scouting that I hadn't known or run into before.
It seems strange to talk about it now, but back then there were a couple of senior troops that seemed to be a haven for lesbians. I certainly didn't care. They tended to stick to themselves. But the really odd thing is that I knew one of the leaders. She was the younger sister of one of my dad's long time friends. It was no secret the woman was a lesbian. My dad's friend had talked about how her sexuality made her as much of a pariah to their parents as his drinking and lifestyle had. I had to wrap my head around the fact that this competent woman was a lesbian scout leader with lesbian scouts under her. I finally decided that none of it mattered. I don't think I ever did tell my parents.
The biggest thing that spring was applying to be a Counselor-in-Training, level I at Camp Singing Pines, the only camp in our Council then offering that training. Just filling in and turning in the application was scary enough. The actual interview process was terrifying. I remember waiting my turn, nervously talking to all these new friends of mine. Mandy from Camp Cielo was there too. She was more nervous than I was! I thought nothing would faze her.
The news was good. I had been accepted to be a CIT I at Camp Singing Pines. I would be there for the first two sessions of the summer. Scary, but exciting. I was on my way to my goal of returning to Cielo as a counselor!
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