Scouting is an activity that teaches a child to become a student of nature and self-sufficiency, along with the sales skills to sell cookies and popcorn ;) My daughter's boyfriend was active in Boy Scouts from a young age and has many fond memories, including his once in a lifetime trip to Philmont that he earned by mowing yards. He has continued to live the scout's promise by having AT LEAST one of everything, sometimes multiples, on the off chance that it might come in handy some day AKA pack rat.

He also strives very hard to make things happen for my girl. One October evening around dusk he pulled out his chainsaw to cut up a downed telephone pole so that they could enjoy a nice chilly evening fire. I was at home chatting on the computer when the phone rang. "Ms. Janie..I need help!" I barely recognized his muffled voice as he struggled to tell me he was in trouble down the road. Rushing through the darkness, I searched with my headlights until I found him, trapped under the telephone pole that was crushing his thighs and pelvis. The chain had popped off of the saw and sent him head first into the ditch where the pole rolled over on him. I called my Dad and then 911. Daddy brought HIS chainsaw, which promptly got stuck in the massive girth of the pole. It seemed the only way out of the mess was to lift the pole off of him. Impossible.

We rammed a steel rod (from his truck) into the soft dirt so that he could use it as leverage to keep some of the weight off of him. Though it was a chilly night and he was wearing coveralls, there was sweat rolling off his face as I cradled it in my hands. "Hang on buddy.."

People started showing up within minutes. There were a couple of sheriff's deputies and an ambulance along with First Responders who had heard the call and a few strangers off the highway with police band radios. With that many male minds at work, the plan ended up like this: straps to loop around the ends of the pole ( from his truck, again ) A line of men to lift the pole up just a few inches so that the paramedics could shove a metal barrel lid (from his truck) under his body and slide him out when the pole was lifted on one..two..THREE! *whoomph* As soon as they got him out the pole went crashing into the ditch.

The emergency room doc had already given orders for morphine to be given en-route to the hospital for the broken legs. As he sat in on the tailgate of the ambulance checking his lower extremities, Gumbler discovered that he could move his feet. He stepped onto the road, and discovered that he could walk. He passed on the hospital visit and we headed to the house to regroup with only a shot of whiskey necessary to calm his nerves, Cowboy style.

When the adrenaline stops pumping, you look for signs of a miracle. Normally he leaves his cellphone in the truck, but for some odd reason it was tucked into his overalls that night. Recent rains had left the ground soft enough that his body sunk into the ground rather than being crushed by the weight of the pole. I was at home to answer his call.

Mysterious ways. That's how the Big Guy works. ^j^