Troop 201 Turns 100

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We gathered on the grounds of the venerable Boy Scout cabin of Troop 201, at Teague Park in Longview on a gorgeous cool Saturday in early May. Several hundred former Scouts and supporters milled about, preparing to celebrate the troop’s centennial and open a time capsule buried 50 years ago.

As we stood in line to fill up on Bodacious Barbecue and the trimmings, vaguely familiar faces walked by, most wearing name tags. These were men with whom I went camping, on hikes, and spent weeks at Camp Pirtle, run back then by my grandfather. He was field director for the East Texas Area Council. Practically the first thing my grandfather did after we rolled into Longview in June 1968 from Allenstown, N.H. was enlist me in Troop 201. My brother Scott followed a year later, and little brother Gregg — nine years younger than me — joined when he turned 11.

Only Gregg achieved becoming an Eagle Scout, continuing the Borders tradition begun by our dad. Gregg’s son, Matt, is the third-generation Eagle Scout in our family. It would not surprise me if his son, Peter, now six months old, continues the streak. I hope I’m around to attend his Eagle ceremony.

I made it to the rank of Life, the level below Eagle. My interest waned when I got a car and a part-time job at the newspaper. A classmate and I were talking the other day. He stopped at Life as well. We both regret not earning our Eagle badges.
Thank goodness for the nametags most of us were wearing. I haven’t seen some of these guys in nearly a half-century. They sure have gotten old, unlike me. (That’s a joke.)

After lunch, we waited about an hour before the activities resumed, leaving plenty of time to stroll through the Troop 201 cabin, which is filled with memorabilia from a century of scouting. Hanging from the rafters were various banners of patrols — a sub-unit of the troop. Gregg pointed out the Cherokee Patrol banner, painted on leather parchment. We immediately recognized it as one of my artist dad’s works, crafted in pen, ink and watercolor. His style was unmistakable.

Gov. Gregg Abbott, a fellow member of the Lion Patrol with Scott and me, arrived in time to pull out the capsule’s content with a piece of half-century old twine that was wrapped around the manila envelopes inside the 6-foot steel capsule. Abbott’s older brother, another Gary, was also in our patrol. The anniversary program contained a copy of an ad from 1969, which contained a group photo of the troop and a list of members. Apparently I was librarian for the Lion Patrol. I have no memory of that, nor do I remember Gregg Abbott from Troop 201. I recall him being on Scott’s Little League team that year, however.

No doubt, the capsule’s design and the order of the contents placed inside was orchestrated by V.G. Rollins, the longtime Scoutmaster and engineer. Those who were privileged to be in the troop under his leadership venerated Mr. Rollins, who died last summer. That includes my brothers and me.

One can cram a lot of stuff into a capsule of that size. About halfway through emptying it, the governor was allowed to stop hauling stuff out — a News-Journal edition from 1967, a Boy Scout Handbook signed by Gov. John Connally — who attended that ceremony — plans for the flagpole base in which the capsule is buried. Abbott showed us what would be sealed in the capsule to be opened in another 50 years, including a new Scout handbook signed by him, along with other memorabilia.

Troop 201’s membership dwindled down to nearly zero last year, but it’s back up to nearly 20 members, thanks to the efforts of Ken Raney and other members of the Troop 201 Alumni Foundation. I hope the troop continues to teach young boys the principles and skills of scouting well into this century, and that they will return in a half-century for the sesquicentennial celebration.

I am likely not going to make that one, since I would be 111. But I’ll be there in spirit.

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