It's great that you have such warm memories of him. Still hurts I bet. (25 years in and it still hurts a little.)
The best Boy Scout trip for me was in July 1989. Six of us and two adults (my father and one other father) went to the Canadian Jamboree on PEI. What a fantastic trip that was, and totally unique for American Boy Scouts. Appropriate I’m thinking of it now, I guess, because today is the first anniversary of the night we lost my dad. He was the organizer who found out about the opportunity to attend the Canadian Jamboree and worked out all the logistics.
I remember a different Scout trip the year before that to Goose Pond near Scranton. We were bored with Goshen and the other father who went to Canada had grown up in Scranton and suggested we try the camp he attended growing up. I remember I had the tent nearest his and he was freaking out when animals would run through the tents late at night. I kept telling him to shut up and be quiet in case one of them might be a skunk.
