Scoutmaster

Soft night winds bring a bit of chill to the skin yet, nobody really cares. There is warmth from burning logs, cracking as it tumbles down, sending thousands of fiery dust upwards propelled by the breeze. Forest night creatures sing their song, competing and badly losing to a Boy Scout Troop campfire. Forming a loose circle, the boys with their patrol flags slowly waving from the soft breeze, sit on the soft grass while listening to the man we admiringly called, “Sir Frank.”

Scoutmaster.

...

Note:

Though Sir Frank dropped his working tools for sometime now, it is my distinct honor and privilage to call the first man to sign my petition to receive Degrees in Freemasonry a Brother--- Brother Francisco Malicsi.

 
RmOlano