The fall of 1974 changed the trajectory of my life. Yes, I was only 11 years old, but I became a Boy Scout as a member of Troop 47, Moorhead, Mississippi. Faded memories of learning how to tie a square knot, learning the Scout Oath and Promise and the firm three-finger salute all come flooding back to me. Our leader was Doug Russell. He was in his mid-20s and had been a Boy Scout and Eagle Scout and now was putting all of that experience back into a ragtag bunch of boys from Inverness and Moorhead. I was the second Eagle Scout that he would have in the summer of 1977, my brother Paul was the first. There were plenty more to follow.
Now some 50 years later, our Scoutmaster is getting one of the biggest honors a Scout leader can attain – The 2026 Leslie Fletcher Good Scout Award. The banquet takes place on April 9th at the Indianola Country Club and sadly, I can’t make the event. My Scoutmaster called me to let me know and I can’t tell you how proud I am of him. It got me to thinking. Of all the things I’ve done in life, Boy Scouts was what molded me. Our ragtag bunch of boys slowly became men through Scouting.
Campouts on his family’s land, Camporees in Scott and Greenville, trips to Vicksburg and even Tennessee, for hikes and camping, all trickle through my mind. In Vicksburg, it rained so hard and heavy, my air mattress I used to soften the ground for my sleeping bag was actually floating around the tent with me on it. We spent the rest of the night sleeping on the red and white bus that Doug had actually bought from MDJC and used to transport the troop around the Delta and beyond. I actually got to drive it; it was a rite of passage driving that manual transmission.
At our Scout Hut just over the railroad tracks in Moorhead, we would gather once a week for a couple of hours and learn all things Scouting and work on our fundraiser – gathering old newspapers, tying them up and stacking them on our faithful bus to drive to Greenville to the recycling center and getting $45 for a ton. We used that money to buy tents and camping supplies that we stored at the Scout Hut. We were all so proud of what we were accomplishing.
That journey from boy to man mostly took place in the Tallahatchie County hills at Camp Tallaha. A week at a time in the middle of June, learning how to really survive. That first year, we stayed at the open-air Adirondack Campsite. The only perk was that it was closest to the mess hall and pool and the main camp area, so there was less walking, but that open-air, three-sided cabin was a haven for mosquitoes. We survived the near-freezing spring-fed swimming pool, got our swimming merit badges, and competed on Family Day. The next year, we’d be in screened-in cabins up the hill, a welcome relief but still a hike to get anywhere each day. We loaded that bus each summer and learned and persevered and loved every second of it all.
And the driver, the leader, the man who opened the doors to Scouting for the ragtag bunch was Doug Russell. I’m sure he sacrificed more than he’ll share and probably pulled out his wallet to make things happen for the less fortunate in our troop but we’ll never know. He opened these doors for me and others early on in life, which has led to a lifetime of skills and adventures with a foundation in Scouting. I’m an Eagle Scout, thanks to Doug Russell and I’ll never be able to thank him enough for helping me make that rank.
After attending as a Scout, I went on to work at Camp Tallaha for four summers using all that I had learned as a camper. I wouldn’t trade my years as a member of Troop 47 for anything and I’d go back and repeat it all in a heartbeat. The basics of life I learned as a Scout have served me pretty much every day of my life, everywhere that I have lived.
If you see my Scoutmaster on the street, at Peasoup’s or at church, give him a hug and a firm handshake and thank him for taking those ragtag boys and making something of them. Making them Boy Scouts, making them Eagle Scouts and making them men.
Thank you, Doug Russell, for being my Scoutmaster and congratulations on an award that is richly deserved.
