Last week a silkscreened OA neckerchief from Aheka Lodge 359 auctioned off for $14,665.

This is a new record for a non-patch neckerchief. There have been neckerchiefs that have sold for more due to the patch on them.

Here’s some of the background information the seller provided:

The gentleman I purchased this neckerchief from was inducted in 1952.  He indicated that he had been given this NC by his Lodge Advisor.  The NC had been issued prior to 1952 and was no longer available.  Not listed in BLUE BOOK.  Previously unknown issue.

A couple of things - one, our hobby is a great hobby with collecting interest at all levels. There are those who are actively collecting the rarest of the rarest and the prices in our hobby are not a barrier. There are others who collect at the other economic end of the hobby.

The second observation is that there may well have been some suspicious bidding activity on this lot. It is my understanding that it has already been challenged through eBay. Shill bidding is illegal. Hopefully the truth wins out.

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I heard this from a friend of mine, Jay Lenrow, that the upcoming 2010 100th Anniversary of BSA Jamboree will be the last one to be held at Fort A. P. Hill. Jay and I were Council Presidents of our respective councils when participating in Philmont Key-3 Training Conference. Since then we’ve kept in touch at National Meetings and other gatherings.

Here’s what Jay had to say. What is your reaction?

I can officially tell you that the rumors you have heard are true. The 2010 National Jamboree will be the last one to be held at Fort A.P.  Hill. There is a committee of volunteers that has been appointed by Rick Cronk, the National President, to find a permanent home for the  National Jamboree that will be owned by the BSA. They are currently looking at many properties.    

Because this will be our last time “at the Hill,” the Army has told us  that there is no chance of adding any new subcamps beyond what we had in 2005. This means that there may be many potential Scouts left out because they did not sign up fast enough. We anticipate that there will be tremendous interest in this “100th Anniversary” Jamboree so my  recommendation to potential unit leaders, Scouts, and staffers is to get  your name in early or risk not getting a spot.  

Yours in Scouting,  

Jay     

 

Jay L. Lenrow  

Chairman — National Jewish Committee on Scouting  
Area 5 Metro President — Northeast Region 
Member –National Relationships Standing Committee 
Member –National Religious Relationships Committee  
Past President – Baltimore Area Council  

I used to be a Buffalo (NE IV-123) but I’ll always be an Eagle (1966)

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Most collectors don’t know that the early name for lodge 103 was Juniata, like the council name, and not Monaken. The lodge had this name from 1937 to 1941. One person who does know is Dr. Hal Yocum as Monaken was his home lodge. We recently connected with Dr. Yocum at the Dallas Trade-o-ree where he brought his 103 patch (one of six known) and discussed the variations and how Monaken later picked up the design. He brought one original Juniata patch with him and color copies of the other known specimen.

 

 Dr. Hal Yocum discusses the first issues from Juniata Lodge 103: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

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Just received the following picture of a great display David Oertle put together for a recent lodge function. It presents particularly early pieces from Sanhican Lodge from Trenton, NJ. Click on the image for a larger view.

A favorite quote of mine comes from collector Dr. Jeff Morley - “What we know about pre-WW 2 Order of the Arrow is an accident.” Everything in David’s display is pre-1940. Just amazing. The 2 R1 is one of the earliest OA patches, not just the first issue for lodge 2 but one of the first lodge patches period. It dates to roughly 1928 and is contemporaneous with the 1 R2 (formerly 1 R1). Similar design. Similar material. Probably made by the same company.

Also, the membership card is noteworthy not just for its vintage but it does not show a lodge number. This could have been made before lodges were numbered.

We know the name of the recipient of the Vigil sash. It was from a Lodge 2 member who received it in 1935. From some research Paul Myers is doing on Vigil memorabilia, there were barely more than 100 Vigils in the whole country as of this time. The hobby generally does not realize how rare and scarce these early Vigil items are. All in all a wonderful display. Often it is not quantity but quality that really matters. And it is much more than just patches that make for an interesting display. (One piece that others should draw from this display are the notes that David added to the frame. This helps provide context for lay audience and new collectors.) Well done David.

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Ahh the power of the internet. I was recently adding in several hundred camp patches to our shopping cart. Camp patches are a great area of collecting in our hobby. They are part of the foundation of Scouting; the fun ‘means’ to the ‘ends’ of citizenship development. Part of the fun, and frustration, with collecting camp patches is the identification of particularly early pieces.

Amongst the items we have was the following patch:

Well as coincidence would have it, this patch just appeared on eBay. The seller provided the following information that sounds authoratative and accurate:

1951 Camp Chawanakee felt Chief patch never used. This felt was used at other camps in Califormia and other in the USA as well. Hard to find and was used from 1951-1953. Camp Chawanakee is a camp at Shaver Lake in Fresno California.

Here’s the Hunter patch:

Here’s the Warrior patch:

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We were looking up some information and came across Kevin Rudesill’s web-site on great Washington state Scout camp patches. Kevin’s a long time customer and fellow enthusiast with a real passion for items from the Pacific northwest, especially Washington state. His site, Best of the Best Washington Camp Patches and Histories, is really worth a look.

A few years back I picked up the following Washington state patches, at the time I believe were unknown:

The patches, although great, were not as interesting the notes that came from the seller:

Camp Cleland was a Scout camp for the Tumwater Council, headquartered in Olympia, Washington from 1927 to 1941. My father was a professional Scout Exectuive, and his first assignment was to this council in 1934. The badges were his.

Camp Cleland was a hike-in camp, accissible only via a very steep two mile trail. It was on land that had been loged and then acquired by the Scouts, but trees grow fast there and it soon became a pleasant spot that included Lake Lena. This area is now a popular hiking area in Olympic National Park and Olympic National Forest. I can’t determine the exact site of the camp (it is complicated by the existence of a Lake Lena and an Upper Lake Lena) but I do know that there is a marker at the site commemorating an outstanding Scout who died in World War II. Reunions of people who had gone to Camp Cleland were held for years, and one of those groups placed the marker.

She also enclosed copies of some black and white photo’s from the camp. I’ll see if I can’t get them scanned in too.

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As part of the ISCA sponsored trade-o-ree in Dallas this past month there were a series of educational sessions. Silver Buffalo recipient and long time collector Dr. Hal Yocum presented one on re-enactment of Baden-Powell, the founder of the Boy Scouts. We thought you might enjoy what Hal has learned over the years and recorded a part of his presentation.

Hal points out that many youth in the program today don’t know who BP was or would recognize him. For over twenty years now he has played BP at various Scout functions and Woodbadge training courses. Click on the video player below to start.

 

 Dr. Hal Yocum on Baden-Powell, founder of the Boy Scouts: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

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Got this e-mail from a dear friend. As some know, we’re dealing with the theft of a valuable patch that occurred at a recent trade-o-ree. Something like this puts it back in perspective. For all of our friends in the hobby, this is for you from us….

3900 Saturdays-

    The older I get, the more I enjoy Saturday mornings. Perhaps it’s the quiet solitude that comes with being the first to rise, or maybe it’s the unbounded joy of not having to be at work.  Either way, the first few hours of a Saturday morning are most enjoyable.

A few weeks ago, I was shuffling toward the garage with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and the morning paper in the other. What began as a typical Saturday morning turned into one of those lessons that life seems to hand you from time to time.

Let me tell you about it.

I turned the dial up into the phone portion of the band on my ham radio in order to listen to a Saturday morning swap net. Along the way, I came across an older sounding chap, with a tremendous signal and a golden voice. You know the kind; he sounded like he should be in the broadcasting business. He was telling whomever he was talking with something about ‘a thousand marbles.’ I was intrigued and stopped t o listen to what he had to say.       

‘Well, Tom, it sure sounds like you’re busy with your job. I’m sure they pay you well but it’s a shame you have to be away from home and your family so much. Hard to believe a young fellow should have to work sixty or seventy hours a week to make ends meet. It’s too bad you missed your daughter’s dance recital’ he continued. ‘Let me tell you something that has helped me keep my own priorities.’ And that’s when he began to explain his theory of a ‘thousand marbles.’       

You see, I sat down one day and did a little arithmetic. The average person lives about seventy-five years. I know, some live more and some live less, but on average, folks live about seventy-five years.’      

Now then, I multiplied 75 times 52 and I came up with 3900, which is the number of Saturdays that the average person has in their entire lifetime. Now, stick with me, Tom, I’m getting to the important part.  It took me until I was fifty-five years old to think about all this in any detail’, he went on, ‘and by that time I had lived through over twenty-eight hundred Saturdays. I got to thinking that if I lived to be seventy-five, I only had about a thousand of them left to enjoy.  So I went to a toy store and bought every single marble they had. I ended up having to visit three toy stores to round up 1000 marbles. I took them home and put them inside a large, clear plastic container right here in the shack next to my gear.’ Every Saturday since then, I have taken one marble out and thrown it away. I found that by watching the marbles diminish, I focused more on the really important things in life.’ ‘There is nothing like watching your time here on this earth run out to help get your priorities straight.’       

‘Now let me tell you one last thing before I sign-off with you and take my lovely wife out for breakfast. This morning, I took the very last marble out of the container. I figure that if I make it until next Saturday then I have been given a little extra time. And the one thing we can all use is a little more time.’  

It was nice to meet you Tom, I hope you spend more time with your family, and I hope to meet you again here on the band. This is a 75 Year old Man, K9NZQ, clear and going QRT, good morning!’        

You could have heard a pin drop on the band when this fellow signed off. I guess he gave us all a lot to think about. I had planned to work on the antenna that morning, and then I was going to meet up with a few hams to work on the next club newsletter.       

Instead, I went upstairs and woke my wife up with a kiss. ‘C’mon honey, I’m taking you and the kids to breakfast.’ ‘What brought this on’ she asked with a smile.’ ‘Oh, nothing special, it’s just been a long time since we spent a Saturday together with the kids. And hey, can we stop at a toy store while we’re out? I need to buy some marbles.’ ;      

A friend sent this to me, so I to you, my friend.        

And so, as one smart bear once said…’If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day, so I never have to live without you.’ - Winnie the Pooh.       

Pass this on to all of your FRIENDS, even if it means sending it to the person that sent it to you.  And if you receive this e-mail many times from many different people, it only means that you have many FRIENDS.           

And if you get it but once, do not be discouraged for you will know that you have at least one good friend…      

And that would be ME.  

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Received this from fellow collector Nick DeMarco. It reminds us to be thankful for our blessings not just during this season but throughout the year. Happy holidays to all!

THE CHRISTMAS SCOUT

by Sam Bogan

In spite of the fun and laughter, 13-year old Frank Wilson was not happy.
It was true he had received all the presents he wanted. And he enjoyed
the traditional Christmas Eve reunions with relatives for the purpose of
exchanging gifts and good wishes.

But, Frank was not happy because this was his first Christmas without
his brother, Steve, who during the year, had been killed by a reckless
driver. Frank missed his brother and the close companionship they had
together.

Frank said good-bye to his relatives and explained to his parents that
he was leaving a little early to see a friend; and from there he could
walk home. Since it was cold outside, Frank put on his new plaid jacket. It
was his FAVORITE gift. He placed the other presents on his new sled.
Then Frank headed out, hoping to find the patrol leader of his Boy
Scout troop. Frank always felt understood by him. Though rich in
wisdom, he lived in the Flats, the section of town where most of the poor lived,
and his patrol leader did odd jobs to help support his family.
To Frank’s disappointment, his friend was not at home.

As Frank hiked down the street toward home, he caught glimpses of
trees and decorations in many of the small houses. Then, through one
front window, he glimpsed a shabby room with limp stockings hanging
over an empty fireplace. A woman was seated nearby … weeping.

The stockings reminded him of the way he and his brother had always
hung theirs side by side. The next morning, they would be bursting with
presents. A sudden thought struck Frank — he had not done his “good
deed” for the day. Before the impulse passed, he knocked on the door.

“Yes? the sad voice of the woman asked. “May I come in?” asked Frank.
“You are very welcome,” she said, seeing his sled full of gifts, and
assuming he was making a collection, “but I have no food or gifts for
you. I have nothing for my own children.”

“That’s not why I am here,” Frank replied. “Please choose whatever
presents you would like for your children from the sled.” “Why, God
bless you!” the amazed woman answered gratefully.

She selected some candies, a game, the toy airplane and a puzzle.
When she took the Scout flashlight, Frank almost cried out. Finally,
the stockings were full.

“Won’t you tell me your name?” she asked, as Frank was leaving.
“Just call me the Christmas Scout,” he replied.

The visit left Frank touched, and with an unexpected flicker of joy in
his heart. He understood that his sorrow was not the only sorrow in the
world. Before he left the Flats, he had given away the remainder of his
gifts. The plaid jacket had gone to a shivering boy.

Now Frank trudged homeward, cold and uneasy. How could he explain to
his parents that he had given his presents away?

“Where are your presents, son?” asked his father as Frank entered the
house. Frank answered, “I gave them away.” “The airplane from Aunt Susan?

Your coat from Grandma? Your flashlight? We thought you were happy with your gifts.”

“I was very happy”, the boy answered quietly.

“But Frank, how could you be so impulsive?” his mother asked. “How
will we explain to the relatives who spent so much time and gave so much
love shopping for you?” His father was firm. “You made your choice,
Frank. We cannot afford any more presents.”

With his brother gone, and his family disappointed in him, Frank
suddenly felt dreadfully alone. He had not expected a reward for his
generosity, for he knew that a good deed always should be its own
reward. It would be tarnished otherwise. So he did not want his gifts back;
however he wondered if he would ever again truly recapture joy in his life. He
thought he had this evening, but it had been fleeting. Frank thought of
his brother, and sobbed himself to sleep.

The next morning, he came downstairs to find his parents listening to
Christmas music on the radio. Then the announcer spoke:
“Merry Christmas, everybody! The nicest Christmas story we have this
morning comes from the Flats. A crippled boy down there has a new sled
this morning, another youngster has a fine plaid jacket, and several
families report that their children were made happy last night by gifts
from a teenage boy who simply called himself the Christmas Scout. No
one could identify him, but the children of the Flats claim that the
Christmas Scout was a personal representative of old Santa Claus himself.”

Frank felt his father’s arms go around his shoulders, and he saw his
mother smiling through her tears. “Why didn’t you tell us? We didn’t
understand. We are so proud of you, son.”

The carols came over the air again filling the room with music
“…Praises sing to God the King, and peace to men on Earth.”

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