My relationship with the Boy Scouts of America was not the most pleasant. I was an oddity, to be sure. I think I was at one time the only—only—second class scout to be a patrol leader.
Second class. For those who may not have been through the quasi-military organization, the way it was structured in my youth was you entered as a Tenderfoot. There were requirements for advancement. Skills had to be learned, benchmarks achieved, and then, having passed through them, you matriculated to Second Class. You were something of a scout, then. It was assumed by your fellows that you knew a thing or three, wouldn’t get lost in the woods, knew how to police a campsite, etc etc. …