Remembering Geordie....Ten years on.

Good Morning. We're veering away from the politic today, as we do from time to time.


Ten years ago this very day, we lost a dear brother in Scouting, and a gentleman who means more to me to this day than many will ever know. I've learned my lesson from the last time I tried to pay tribute to some scouters who have gone on (see the archive for that sorry saga) and am posting something I wrote ten years ago when Geordie went to meet his maker.

Even now, Geordie seems to be speaking to me from beyond the grave. I recently found this buried away in a drawer, and I took it as a sign that a dear friend thought that my commitment to Scouting this season is not what it should be. I hope I've corrected some shortcomings, and I stand poised to become Cubmaster of the pack when young Javier joins as a Tiger this fall.

But once again, I think Geordie has an eye on me. I was aware that his anniversary was early this month, but I thought it was the 7th, and that I had missed it last week when I was laid up with strep. Yesterday, I found a "Loonie" (one dollar Canadian coin) on my bookcase, and put it in my pocket as a reminder. When we got home last night, I pulled out my old writings and discovered that I had not missed it, and the anniversary is, in fact, today.

But what really cemented it for me...you'll see when you read the legend at the end. Last night, the brightest 'star' of all, the planet Venus, hung high in the evening sky watching over me. I think Geordie understands men, too. So, with just a slight change from the original, please join me as I remember Geordie.

In Memory of Geordie

On Wednesday, April 9, 1997, our friend and brother is Scouting Jordan Womboldt lost his long battle with liver and kidney disease. I shall not recount his long ordeal, but I will offer the statement of one of Geordie’s doctors, who said “There may be stronger men than him, bit I have seen none tougher.”


Geordie brought to his troop a strong hand and an uncanny ability for leadership, but more importantly, an understanding of the scout-age boy. Much like our own Jim Virnelli, Geordie knew when to lean heavily on a scout to push him on to a greater achievement, or when to sit back and watch a scout learn for himself. Geordie was always there when his scouts needed a stable influence, a father figure, or just someone to talk to who might still remember what it was like to be a boy.


Such is the continuity of scouting that Geordie’s beloved First Milton Troop will go on, with his brother Rick at the helm. But there is a void there today that is felt by everyone who wears a scout uniform.


The last time we all saw Geordie two years ago, we brought north with us a handmade cedar-strip canoe. Geordie had few things he could enjoy in the last years of his life, but our canoe was one of them. As recounted by his family, Geordie would often have the canoe brought out in front of his house, and he would spend hours cleaning and polishing this gift of friendship. All of us who worked on that canoe can take some solace in the fact that something we put so much into in a small way made Geordie’s last years a little more enjoyable.


As I remember Geordie, ten years on, and ponder the mysteries of life and death, and wonder where it is that Scouters go when they die...once again I find comfort in an old Indian legend that has been told many times around a campfire.

Long ago, the Indians believed that the departed left this world and their spirits went to the happy hunting grounds in the sky. At night, the Great Spirit would draw a blanket over the sky to make it dark. The Indians believed that the points of light seen in the blanket were made by the spirits of the departed as they passed through on the way to the happy hunting grounds. Some of the holes were large, making bright points of light, while others were so small they were hardly visible. The Indians thought that the size of the hole had nothing to do with how powerful a chief you may have been, or how large your land was, or how many enemies you had killed in battle, but instead was larger for the number of good deeds and acts of kindness the departed had done throughout his life.

Tonight, when I go outside and look at the stars and ponder the mysteries of life and death, no star shall shine as bright as Geordie’s spirit.



April 9, 2007
David M.

Unit Commissioner, Boy Scout Troop 61, Saugus, MA (Ret.)
Committee Chair, Cub Scout Pack 250, Waltham, MA
Honorary Member, First Milton Troop, Nova Scotia