Friday, December 7, 2001

talk about bizarre. a little background on this, i worked down at scout camp every summer from 93-97. having said that, i'll tell ya what's so bizarre.

this morning started out normal. i was watching some news before i came to work and they said that 3 kids from kstate were missing, but they recovered one of the bodies. they showed the names and the faces and i looked at them but they didn't really register with me. so i go to work and it's friday so i'm in a good mood lalala right? wrong. my dad emails me with that headline in the subject and tells me to go check it out on kcstar.com. he then follows up with "all three were eagle scouts and worked on lakefront." oh reeeaaaallly...isn't that - in. ter. est. ing. so i log onto kcstar.com and check out the article. sure enough. after i read through it and took a good hard look at the names, i realized it. i had worked with tim bennett on lakefront in 97. and actually kyle chapman's name is very slowly coming back to me. the other one, i don't really recognize off-hand. anyway, this isn't the bizarre part. well, kind of. the bizarre thing is how on monday, i found out my little brother is engaged, and then on friday, 5 days later, at least two guys that i had spent a summer with (2 months to be exact, but think about it, it's 8 hours a day in the program area, and then we had to see each other in the evening hours too) were dead. *that* my friends is the bizarre part. all comes down to that old cliche that life is short, and well, you know the rest.

In Memory and Friendship and Warmth,
Timothy Bennett, Kyle Chapman, & Chris Shipley

THE HILLS OF OSCEOLA

The Hills of Osceola are calling me today,
"Come back along the Scouting Trail" their voices seem to say.
I dream of woodland valleys, and pathways that I knew,
And answer, "Osceola hills, I'm coming back to you."


The friends of Osceola have walked the trail with me,
And 'round the campfire we have met in joyous company.
O! Friends of rain and sunshine, so loyal and so true,
Thank God for hills and trees and stars,- for Country, Home, and You!


THE SONG OF MIC-O-SAY

My work is done;
Though short has been its span
I have known brotherhood,
And man to man
Have felt the stirring kinship of the tried,
The nobleness of sacrifice, the pride
That causes man to taste the bitter with the sweet
And, tasting, lift his head above defeat
And strongly brave his tasks;
For, serving thus, he gives to life and to eternity
That spark of genius bequeathed to him
By her who gave him life.
Who faced the grim
Dark valley of ordeal, that he might live,
That he might guide mankind to freely give.
And I have stood beside a sacred place
And there with fellow Tribesmen made my vows,
Have searched myself, and sought my inner strength,
Have goaded my own spirit
To arouse
Within my heart a long-enduring goal
That on the morrow might have more avail
Than just the mem'ry of a totem pole
Or white-washed rock.
Yes, these things I have known in my own heart,
And they are good.
And this I know, when now my race is run,
When starlight falls o'er oak-clad hills,
And setting sun bespeaks the end of my life span-
I have been challenged to the best in me,
I have been strengthened by an Eagle's claw,
I go, Great Spirit, answering Thy call,
For it is well - my brothers carry on.

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