Out of 3000 photos of Troop 385 activities that Mr. Williams took and Bill Harting digitized last summer, this is the photo Bill Harting picked to enlarge and Whitney Bridgers had framed. The inscription at the bottom of the photo reads:

Fred Williams
Scout Master
Troop 385

Last summer, Bill Harting met with Ted Williams and Bill picked up 3000 slides that Mr Williams took of Troop 385 activities. Bill Harting scanned all of those slides into a digital format. The 24 former scouts that attended the reunion in October viewed some of those slides in Fellowship Hall the way we did at special Court of Honor troop meetings long ago.

While planning the October reunion, I wanted to do something special with one of the slides in the collection. Bill and I coordinated our efforts to make this happen. Bill, in Indiana, agreed to pick just one slide, create an enlarged print and send the print to me in Louisville. I would have the photo framed. The framed photo of one of the best slides in the collection would be put on display at the reunion and I would say something about it.

That was the plan but this is what happened.

After Bill Harting picked the photo, he had the photo enlarged then sent it down to me in Louisville in a shipping tube. When the shipping tube arrived, I never opened it to look at the photo because I wanted to keep dust and fingerprints off of the photo before I took it to the frame shop.

What you have to keep in mind is, I have thought of Mr. Williams often over the years. He was so important to me and I was so lucky to have him in my life when I was young.

Over the years, when I thave hought about Mr Williams, most often I remember being with him along with 14-15 other Troop 385 scouts at White Rocks, on the Mischa Mokwa Trail. So, when I was at the frame shop, sliding the photo Bill chose out of the mailing tube, I was seeing that photo for the first time. That was a powerful moment. As soon as I saw the photo and realized it was a photo of Mr. Williams at White Rocks, and the photo was just the way I had been picturing Mr. Williams in my mind all my life, I had to leave the frame shop for a few minutes. That explains why I put the photo on display at the reunion but could not say anything about it.

I did the Mischa Mokwa 5 or 6 times. Early on, it was hard. I remember the first time I reached White Rocks, Mr. Williams rested his hand on my shoulder and all he said was "You made it." Still, that was a big deal for me that I will always remember. I went on a lot of other Troop 385 adventures, but Mr. Williams always seemed happiest at White Rocks. I remember the smile on his face. It was like he was having one of the best times of his life when he was there.

On the Mischa Mokwa you walk a long way, and frankly, being closed in by trees for so long, it sometimes could get kind of boring. But, you never know what is going to happen on the trail. I remember Kim Flanigan whacking a wasp nest to see what would happen and getting covered in wasps. One time, because I was younger and couldn't walk as fast as the older scouts, I was in the back and I came across a timber rattler convulsing in the trail. It had been stepped on by the older scouts up ahead. When I caught up with them and told them about the snake, they just looked at me and said "What snake?" They hadn't even seen it. I can remember someone would starting singing a song and it would catch on and spread so everyone up and down the trail was singing over and over again:

I feel the earth move under my feet
feel the sky tumbling down
I feel my heart start to trembling
Whenever you're around

Up front, older boys jostled to keep up with, but never passed, Mr Williams.

Then, it always happened suddenly. The trees just stop and you pop out, all at once, onto White Rocks. There you are. You are looking out and in the distance you see trees with fall colors, ridges, valleys, sky and it goes on and on and on. Even though you knew it was coming, it was always overwhelming.

Once you were at White Rocks, scouts in groups of 2 or 3 would find a spot on the rocks, sit, eat their granola and drink their water treated with Halazone tablets. It was quiet. If anyone walked too close to the edge of the cliff, Mr. Williams would whistle softly which was his way of signaling that you needed to think about what you were doing.

Over the years, I have struggled to find the right words that describe what it felt like while we were there. All I can say is, being at White Rocks always put a smile on Mr. Williams face.

I can remember one time at White Rocks when Steve Battles was off by himself and rummaging around in his pack for something. He had his back to us because I think he was trying to keep what he was doing a secret. It turns out that Steve had brought along one of those balsa wood gliders with the metal weight attached at the nose. As soon as Steve had the glider assembled, even before he could toss it into the air, a current of wind lifted the little wooden plane out of his hands and off it went. Steve turned around to look at all of us who were watching him and wondering what he was up to. I think Steve thought he might be in trouble. Instead, the sight of that glider circling higher and higher brought all of us to our feet. For 15 minutes we watched that glider soar out into the valley, return, and, lifted by the air currents, rise higher and higher until the glider was out of sight. I think that was when I saw the biggest smile I ever saw on Mr. Williams face.

Bill Harting picked the photo and I got it framed but I couldn't say what I wanted to say about the photo, until now. After the reunion, everyone on the Planning Committee knew where we wanted that framed photo of Mr. Williams to go. As you can see from the picture below, the framed photo of Mr. Williams at White Rocks is right where it belongs, waiting until we bring it to the next gathering of the former scouts of Troop 385.