George Daniels. My coach and scoutmaster. I played for the "Police." We won and he bought us frappes at the drugstore. I never hit or caught a ball, but was always treated as part of the team. George was a real gentleman. Bill Wright
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Well, guys, like it or not, this went to the Letters to the Editor of the Milford Daily News. I would have consulted but I thought maybe time was of the essence. Hope I caught the spirit of the man. Fred
The Bible says God does not look upon a man's appearance, but on his heart. No man had a bigger heart than George Daniels, Scoutmaster of Troop One Hopedale in the mid 60s. To the degree God looks upon a man's heart George will make heaven on the first ballot. I can't remember when I first met George but I'm sure it had something to do with Boy Scouts. He took greenhorn Tenderfoots who didn't know a halfhitch from a bowline and gently taught us the difference.
But the life lessons were far more important. He taught us how not to smoke. Some older scout had brought a pack of cigarettes to camp. He lined up the oldest, made each of us take a drag and hold it. He told us to inhale deeply and quickly. On his signal we did. Such coughing and hacking and crying and head spinning you never did see. I didn't know trees were purple. No parent complained. No parent sued. If only our teachers could do the same.
No one would confuse him with a leading man from Hollywood (except, maybe, a famous spinach eating sailor) and any first-class scout could have easily beaten him at Jeopardy, but we would take George Daniels twenty times over. And no one who was there at scout camp one summer morning would ever forget his daily "constitutional" speech; coffee in one hand, Camel in the other, and his pith helmet turned awkwardly on his head. Pure and unintended genius that was. I saw George two years ago. He looked the same and in wonderful spirits. But God needed another scout master in heaven. He could not have done any better. Fred Loeper
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