The Virginian-Pilot
                             THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT 
              Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: Sunday, May 26, 1996                  TAG: 9605240161
SECTION: CHESAPEAKE CLIPPER      PAGE: 02   EDITION: FINAL 
COLUMN: Random Rambles 
SOURCE: Tony Stein 
                                            LENGTH:   75 lines

EXPLORER SCOUTS AT HOSPITAL DESERVE A TOOT OF THE HORN

I interviewed Scott Russel the other day. Let's get it straight right off: He is absolutely, positively, so help me Noah Webster, a one-l Russel, not a two-l Russell.

Scott's grandfather adopted that version when he came to America from Scotland in the 1920s, and the family has been cheerfully correcting people ever since. But I didn't interview Scott for a spelling lesson. He is leader of an Explorer post at Chesapeake General Hospital, and I think Scouting deserves a horn toot at every opportunity.

I was a Boy Scout myself, and those of you asking if Daniel Boone was my troop leader will kindly stifle it. Russel was likewise a Boy Scout back in Mason City, Iowa. That's the Mason City on which River City in ``The Music Man'' was based. The composer, Meredith Willson, was a Mason City-ite and semi-immortalized his hometown. You will also note that he was a two-l Willson like Russel is a one-l person. Would I be hateful to suggest that Iowans don't seem too sure about consonants?

Russel, credit manager at Chesapeake General, is leader of Explorer Post 736. Six other hospital staff members are also involved with the post. They're Ron Smoot, Eddie Davenport, Sherwood Moore, Liz Kemp, Jocelyn Coleman and Jeanne Farlow. The post meets on the third Wednesday of the month.

In order to keep the smart-aleck license necessary to write a newspaper column, I wondered if the boys and girls work on brain surgery merit badge. No, said Russel, that's not what happens. Each month, the post members get an introduction to some aspect of the hospital. Where possible, it's hands-on, but no hands on a scalpel.

In the physical therapy area, though, they got to try out the machines and some of the procedures. A favorite, Russel says, was the paraffin dip. Dipping their hands in heated paraffin helps people with arthritis. The kids liked the way it felt, too, and got a giggle out of peeling off the dried paraffin.

Another favorite was the muscle stimulator. ``They loved the way it made their hands move,'' Russel said.

There was a lot less enthusiasm about a visit to the morgue. Russel said he heard a lot of lines like ``I'll go if you go.'' Some got as far as putting on rubber gloves and gowns before changing their minds. There were no bodies to see, but a morgue is a morgue, and there was certainly a degree of edginess. I couldn't help asking what would have happened if someone had yelled ``Boo!''

Russel grinned. ``There would,'' he said, ``have been some wet britches.''

Kidding aside, the post activities are reinforcing the interest of some of its members in medical careers. Reinforcing enough so that they are volunteering at the hospital. Another post activity brightened last Christmas for residents at the Georgian Manor home with Christmas cards and carols.

Russel remembers his Boy Scout years with clear pleasure. ``Consider where I came up,'' he said. ``There wasn't much for youngsters to get involved in. Scouting was one of those things we were glad we did. We felt sorry for the ones who weren't Scouts because they didn't know what they were missing.''

Some of those Scouting pleasures didn't come easy. Like summer camp. It cost $15 and the money just wasn't there. ``So,'' says Russel, ``I made it myself.'' He was used to it. ``For spending money I raked leaves in the fall and shoveled snow in the winter. I mean shovel. No snow blower. In the spring, I mowed lawns. I earned the $15, and when I was leaving for camp, my dad slipped me an extra $5.''

It was a nice memory, and Russel and I swapped some other memories of Scouting. Such as what would happen in those male chauvinist days if a female came on Boy Scout turf. The cry of ``Snake!'' would go up, an unkind heritage from the Garden of Eden. Now, of course, there are female Scoutmasters. ``Snake!'' has been replaced by ``Yes, ma'am.''

Russel made it to life scout, just below eagle. I never made it past second class because I couldn't make a map or swim a lick. Camping was fun. Hanging out with guys you liked was fun. Russel and I agreed that some of the good things Scouting taught us were permanent lessons. It sounds simplistic, but instead of the peer pressure they talk about today, I remember peer palship.

Sure, today's boys and girls live in a whole different society than my hometown in suburban New York or Russel's bit of Iowa. I hear that lots of today's kids say Scouting isn't cool. But I'll tell you this about the kids who are wise enough to find the friendship and the lessons and the values in Scouting. They're cool. by CNB