Wednesday, September 28, 2011
I don't think there is hardly a day that goes by when I don't think of Mr. (and Mrs.) Kreye. As my Scoutmaster, Mr. Kreye (and he will always be "Mister Kreye" to me), quietly (and sometimes not so quietly) showed me what it means to be a man and that while it requires both time and effort, it is a responsibility and a privelege to serve others. Along with my Dad (who greatly admired and loved Mr. Kreye), he was the most important man in my life during my formative years. I have so many great memories. I remember when we used to go to Camp Hok-Si-La in Lake City for summer camp and his family camped on Lake Pepin, just around the bend - we would go visit them in the canoes. (A couple summers ago, my family spent Labor Day in Lake City and early in the morning, I walked through what is now Hok-Si-La city park and the memories just came flooding back). I also remember the time Gerry Sykora was shooting rubber bands in the very back of the Kreye's green and white van - as we started through an intersection, Gerry leaned back on the inner door latch and went spilling out onto the road. I remember the pancake breakfasts and my Dad thinning the batter, only to have Mr. Kreye thicken it back up (over and over again). And of course, I can't forget Saturday nights at camp, when Mr. Kreye made his famous dutch-oven cobbler. Two months ago, I was with one of my sons at Webelos outpost and that night the two camp counselors made dutch oven cake - almost to perfection but not up to Mr. Kreye's high standards. I think my son, Anders, may have grown sick of my continuous explanation of what cobbler should be. And any rememberence of Mr. Kreye cannot be left without a fond recollection of Troop 79's unofficial call: "Yous guys, shut up!" I would never have become an Eagle Scout, if not for Mr. Kreye. I'm a Cubmaster of a Pack in Minneapolis (that was probably inevitable) and there's little doubt that one day I will be Scoutmaster. Like many scout leaders, I have trouble getting parents to volunteer even for small roles. They worry, I know, that may be making a commitment that will, at times, be onerous. Yes, it is onerous. But I learned long ago from Mr. Kreye (and from Mrs. Kreye) that it is my responsibility and my privilage to serve.
