Behind every good man .... and all that stuff

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I saw on the local funeral home’s website the other day that Colleen Boone had passed away. Having grown up in Pittsboro, I had known her many years, as well as knowing one of her two daughters and her husband who still live in the community.

It had been some time since I’d seen her, and I didn’t realize she was 95. She was and always will be, in my finest Southern boy tradition, “Miss Colleen.” I know she wasn’t literally a “miss,” but that’s the way Mama raised me and, frankly, I don’t care for the word “Ms.” — pronounced “miz.” It sounds too much like the sound a carbonated soft drink makes when you pop the top.

There are lots of things that could be — and were — said about Miss Colleen through the years but when I think of her, I think of something that, to me, really was special about her. Her other half was Harold Boone, a fine fellow in his own right, but to countless Pittsboro boys through the years, he was Scoutmaster.

There were a couple of troops — his 93. And there was 915 and I think maybe one that was 929. Some of those numbers are starting to be lost in the pages of time.

I was in Troop 93 for a short time at maybe 13 or so; can’t really remember. I had been a decent Cub Scout, earning some steps through the ranks and picking up a few arrow badges here and there. My den mother was another great Pittsboro resident — Mrs. Fuller, Dr. Fuller’s wife. Funny, now I can’t remember her first name. But when it came time to move on to Boy Scouts, it didn’t work out.

And that wasn’t Harold’s fault; it was mine. I was lazy. Not motivated. Plus, transportation to meetings became a problem. And later when some of those had been resolved, I’d gotten a work permit and was enjoying making a dollar an hour stocking shelves and carrying groceries at the local Progressive Store. While I was doing that, other guys went hiking, camping over the weekends, even going to New Mexico’s Philmont Scout Ranch over the summers. Wherever there was a scout event, Harold Boone’s boys were there. Today, he’s remembered for all his contributions with the Scout “hut” and grounds on the west side of town named in his memory.

And that’s what makes Miss Colleen special. Harold got — and in certain age groups today still gets — kudos and thanks for all he did for hundreds, dare I say thousands, of boys. But Harold wasn’t alone. I don’t know what it was like for the two of them to juggle schedules of work, marriage and parenthood, but by all accounts, they made it work. Harold was gone a lot with his boys and Miss Colleen had to agree to that. While he was gone, she kept the engines running. So, while Harold gets much credit — deservedly so — for all he did for his boys, it couldn’t have happened without Miss Colleen.

There’s a lesson in that for us — namely that even if you’re not the point man on patrol or the guy getting the glory, you have a role to play in the success of things. I’m sure Harold realized how valuable Miss Colleen was to the scouting effort, and there were dinners and banquets and events from time to time where she and the other folks behind the scenes could be told “thank you.”

But never forget it takes everyone to pull off good stuff. And Miss Colleen was a big part. Old Boy Scouts still around today should say a big “thanks” in her memory and maybe model themselves after her selfless giving.

Couldn’t hurt.

Bob Wachs is a native of Chatham County and retired long-time managing editor of the Chatham News/Chatham Record, having written a weekly column for more than 30 years. During most of his time with the newspapers, he was also a bi-vocational pastor and today serves Bear Creek Baptist Church for the second time as pastor.