The Scoutmaster there was a great guy, Mr. Camp. That's right. My Scoutmaster was named Mr. Camp. His family lived three houses down from me. I was in the same grade and Orchestra with his daughter. Actually, we both played cello. Sometimes we would share a music stand depending upon where we were seated. I also got along well with his son, who was also in Troop 189. His wife, Mrs. Camp was an active member of the volunteer community. She worked with the Girl Scouts and the Red Cross.
Mr. Camp was a darn good and underappreciated Scoutmaster. So this blog post is NOT about him being an idiot Scoutmaster. No, he was one of the good guys. This post is about the Troop Committee, and one of the dumbest screw-ups I have ever seen in Troop mismanagement.
Troop 189 was a drastically different troop from Troop 12. The parents in Troop 12 had money. Wherever they wanted to go, they went. When I switched to Troop 189 the equipment was old and we camped in free state parks. In fact, the tents the troop owned were old 1960's military canvas tents. Pretty much all the equipment had been donated. Troop 189 was the very definition of an inner city troop.
There's no easy or polite way to say my family was a hell of a lot better off than anyone in Troop 189. For one, I had a Dad. Including mine I can remember seeing about four total Dads. Also, my Dad was the mailman. As in, he was a U.S. Mail Postal Carrier. Let's be honest, he was pulling a lot more money than anyone else there. I'm not bragging. This will be important information later on in the story.
So Dad is sitting in the committee meeting. The Troop Committee (all Moms) are wanting to put together a fundraiser for the troop. That's great! We really needed to raise funds. They decided they wanted to put on a spaghetti dinner.
So Dad asks, "What do you mean?"
It was explained that the boys would sell tickets to a spaghetti dinner held at the church (where our troop met.) The boys would set up the tables, serve the food, clean up, and act as waiters for this spaghetti dinner.
So Dad asks, "So how do they sell tickets? Do you want the boys to go door to door? Who goes to a spaghetti dinner?
The Moms (or rather the one in charge of the committee) explained that other troops had done this and made a lot of money.
Dad said, "It sounds like it's more trouble than it's worth."
So they start to talk pricing. The committee chairwoman wanted to price it at $3 a head. (Sidenote: Think of costs in 1991.)
So Dad speaks up again. "How do you plan on making any money? I mean, that won't hardly cover cost. It needs to be closer to $5 a head. We're not running a church social gathering. We need to make money. This is a fundraiser."
That's when Rich stepped in. He had come up through Troop 189, and earned his Eagle rank. He was now a Councilman in the Gulf Ridge Council. (Sidenote: Just a year later Rich would end up being the head honcho of the Gulf Ridge Council.)
Rich said, that, "If we're going to do this we need to make money. The price needs to be closer to $5. Rich was a good guy. He wanted to be fair to everyone.
So the committee decided to set the price at $5. Dad did some quick math in his head. He said, "The best you can hope to make is about $40. Do you want $40? I'll give you $40 just to avoid the hassle."
Remember what I said about my Dad being the mailman? Well, when I transferred to Troop 189 the Moms looked at my Dad in fear the first time they saw him. They recognized him. He was the one who delivered their welfare checks and food stamps. He delivered their government documents. If there is one thing you get out of this blog post, remember this. The mailman knows everything about you!
So when my Dad offered them $40 not to hold the spaghetti dinner the room went silent. They just looked at him with fear. Again, Rich stepped in, and said, "No, we want to boys to work on this like they would a service project. It's important they perform a fundraiser."
So they turned my Dad down. He told me all that went down in private. I told him, "Heck, I would have thrown in $10 along with your $40 just to avoid the hassle. Did you try to raise them to $60?"
He thought that was pretty funny. He told me, "No, they pretty much had their minds made up." Besides, I don't think Dad wanted to come across as a bully. He just wanted to avoid the hassle.
So what happened the night of the spaghetti dinner? It was almost entirely relatives of the members. Some family members bought tickets and didn't show. And for some reason a couple of the boys were playing around behind the pulpit. While bumping around back there someone inadvertently turned on the baptismal tub.
Since it had no water in it, it burned out the element in the tub. So, Troop 189 had to pay for the damage. So with the money taken in for the spaghetti dinner minus the cost of repairing the damage from the tub, the troop ended up losing $20.
That's right. Troop 189 lost money on that fundraiser. And to be honest, they were probably lucky it was only $20 lost. I just hope the committee members had it in the back of their minds that they should have just taken the damned $40 my Dad offered.
Below are the blog posts of my "Idiot Scoutmaster" series.
Bored Scoutmasters and the Tale of the Wampus
Idiot Scoutmasters: A True Story of a Scout's Canteen
Idiot Scoutmasters: Once Bitten, Forever Stupid
Idiot Scoutmasters: The Dishwashing Paradox
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