Not so long ago, my wee family was traveling home from an enjoyable trip to Devil's Lake in Wisconsin with several other families. I assumed my normal spot in the caravan, which was the last car. I often agreed to take this position as it was important to me that no one be left behind. As we traveled home that Saturday afternoon, my wife just had to ask, "Why are we always the last car in the caravan? Why can't we lead or be in the middle? Why are we always last?" I didn't have an immediate answer other than to say, "That's what I've always done." For the next hour, I couldn't get the question out of my head. Then it came to me.
So there was this one time when my family moved across the valley to a new neighborhood and a new junior high. We moved during the summer, and we all thought it would be a good idea for me to join the local Boy Scout troop on their annual scout camp. They were planning a week-long trip to Southern Utah and Colorado. I was very excited to go as I had never been to that part of the state, and I wanted to get better acquainted with the boys in the neighborhood and community.
Our first stop was along the Colorado River near Moab, Utah. While I was climbing among the rocks with the other guys, I jumped and landed funny on my heel, causing me considerable pain and a noticeable limp for the rest of the trip and many weeks thereafter.
A day or two later, we went to Arches National Park to hike to Delicate Arch, one of the signature arches in the park. This was one of the main reasons I had decided to go, as I admired its beauty. At first, the hike was normal, and I enjoyed the conversation with my fellow scouts, but soon I was falling behind, unable to keep up the pace due to my tender foot (no pun intended), and before I knew it, I was alone. I could neither see nor hear anyone on the trail, coming or going. Before long, I came to a point where I had to make a decision in order to proceed. To me, there was no clear trail, no clear way forward, just a lot of shale and flat rock. I could see Delicate Arch ahead of me in the distance, and absent any other idea, I decided to head directly to the natural wonder. I don’t recall how long it took me to get there, but when I finally arrived, I was captivated by the wonder of it all. I walked around the arch and explored it as much as I dared.
Soon, I became aware that I was all alone in this wilderness, and having absolutely no idea from whence I had come, I had no clue how I was going to get home. I decided to utter a silent prayer that someone would come along and take me home. A few moments later, I heard voices in the distance, and to my surprise, it was my scout troop! Imagine the boys’ surprise when they realized ‘that new crippled kid’ had beaten them to the destination. Imagine the leaders' surprise when they saw me standing there, all alone. One leader took it upon himself to berate me for not following the clearly marked path and for putting them at risk. My 12-year-old mind was swimming in confusion. I was a brand new scout and had never before been on such a hike, and I had certainly not intended to put the troop at risk – although I was not sure how I had. I was also wondering why and how no one had noticed that I was missing. What was once a feeling of relief was now a feeling of hurt and confusion.
As a young man, I learned something about leadership that day. The leader has a responsibility for everybody in his or her care, regardless of their condition or circumstance. The leader has a duty to teach ‘the trail markers’ to the newbies. The leader has an obligation to see that all in his or her stewardship arrive safely at the destination. Years later, I reinjured my heel, which brought home forcefully once again the lesson of leadership I learned that day at Delicate Arch.
So there was this one time when my family moved across the valley to a new neighborhood and a new junior high. We moved during the summer, and we all thought it would be a good idea for me to join the local Boy Scout troop on their annual scout camp. They were planning a week-long trip to Southern Utah and Colorado. I was very excited to go as I had never been to that part of the state, and I wanted to get better acquainted with the boys in the neighborhood and community.Our first stop was along the Colorado River near Moab, Utah. While I was climbing among the rocks with the other guys, I jumped and landed funny on my heel, causing me considerable pain and a noticeable limp for the rest of the trip and many weeks thereafter.
A day or two later, we went to Arches National Park to hike to Delicate Arch, one of the signature arches in the park. This was one of the main reasons I had decided to go, as I admired its beauty. At first, the hike was normal, and I enjoyed the conversation with my fellow scouts, but soon I was falling behind, unable to keep up the pace due to my tender foot (no pun intended), and before I knew it, I was alone. I could neither see nor hear anyone on the trail, coming or going. Before long, I came to a point where I had to make a decision in order to proceed. To me, there was no clear trail, no clear way forward, just a lot of shale and flat rock. I could see Delicate Arch ahead of me in the distance, and absent any other idea, I decided to head directly to the natural wonder. I don’t recall how long it took me to get there, but when I finally arrived, I was captivated by the wonder of it all. I walked around the arch and explored it as much as I dared.
Soon, I became aware that I was all alone in this wilderness, and having absolutely no idea from whence I had come, I had no clue how I was going to get home. I decided to utter a silent prayer that someone would come along and take me home. A few moments later, I heard voices in the distance, and to my surprise, it was my scout troop! Imagine the boys’ surprise when they realized ‘that new crippled kid’ had beaten them to the destination. Imagine the leaders' surprise when they saw me standing there, all alone. One leader took it upon himself to berate me for not following the clearly marked path and for putting them at risk. My 12-year-old mind was swimming in confusion. I was a brand new scout and had never before been on such a hike, and I had certainly not intended to put the troop at risk – although I was not sure how I had. I was also wondering why and how no one had noticed that I was missing. What was once a feeling of relief was now a feeling of hurt and confusion.
As a young man, I learned something about leadership that day. The leader has a responsibility for everybody in his or her care, regardless of their condition or circumstance. The leader has a duty to teach ‘the trail markers’ to the newbies. The leader has an obligation to see that all in his or her stewardship arrive safely at the destination. Years later, I reinjured my heel, which brought home forcefully once again the lesson of leadership I learned that day at Delicate Arch.
During the drive home from Devil's Lake, I learned something about myself. It occurred to me that something that happened so long ago had become a core belief that impacted so many decisions. I was always the last person into the room or building. I was the last to leave the room. I was the last one on and off the bus. In every circumstance, I was last in and last out. On that summer Saturday afternoon, I was finally able to answer the question, "Why do I do what I do?" I still have the tendency to be the last to enter the restaurant, but now it's an intentional decision, which for me is a much better way to decide and act.
I know, I know, I’m rambling again.
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