It happened like this:

My eldest daughter, Helen, began her school days at JX Wilson Elementary School in Santa Rosa, California in the mid-1980’s.  Her best friend in kindergarten was Hillary Beverlin.  A couple of years later, when the girls had reached that magical age where they could join Brownies, we all discovered that there was no Bownie troop at JX Wilson.  So Helen’s Mom and Hillary’s Mom contacted the local Girl Scout Council, got all of the details, and started a Brownie troop.

Oh, spirits were high—we sold cookies and had meetings and bought uniforms and marched in the Rose Parade, and….whew….We did lots.  And we had fun.  And then there was an opportunity to do an overnight adventure—As I recall at this late date, we were to spend the night locked up inside the Santa Rosa Plaza—Our beloved mall.

But the troop couldn’t do it.  Because for an overnight event, the troop must have leaders we were certified in both CPR and Advanced First Aid.  And neither of the Mom’s were so certified at that time.  As fate would dictate, I was a peace officer, and Hillary’s Dad was a fire fighter.  Peace officers and fire fighters have CPR and first aid training—and more importantly—certificates.

So Hillary’s Dad and I joined the Girl Scouts as leaders to accompany the girls on their outing.  A grand time was had by all. 

Oh, the point of the story.  When Hillary’s Dad and I receiver our membership cards to sign, the reverse of the card makes a number of declarations, including the promise that we will be “a sister to all girl scouts”.

I have always believed that this was my first brush with the concept that it’s not enough to be a heterosexual male, one must be a confident heterosexual male.

And I am all of that.


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