With the baby-boom and
spirit of discipline and social responsibility in the fifties the
Scouting movement boomed. Bill Braddock ran the Troop until 1954,
when Carl Ostlund took over, serving as Scoutmaster until 1957.
Kyle Cudworth, now with a son in the Troop and an executive at
Pillsbury Company, once again became Scoutmaster of Troop 33 at
At about this point
there ceases to be any mention of Sea Scout ship 33; it can be
assumed that it gradually went out of existence. Bill Braddock
does mention that when Kyle returned from the war he ran it for a
time. So it may have even continued up to the mid-fifties in some
The Cub Scout pack was
still quite active and the Troop during this period was
incredibly large. At one point, it had to further subdivide
itself into three Troops: a, b, and c.
The stories of this era
reflect the changing times:
I was a
member of the Silver Fox Patrol. We always looked
forward to the times when patrol meetings were at
Rolf Larsen's house because his family had the
only TV set in the neighborhood. After the patrol
meeting was over, his parents would let us watch
TV. The 7-inch TV was set on a buffet in the
dining room and the chairs were set arranged like
in a theater. We would stay until his parents
sent us home.
on lots of campouts, but the most unique was an
overnight on the First National Bank Plaza. The
bank was a new structure then and I have no idea
what sort of promotion was cooked up to have us
camp there. But we pitched our tents, cooked our
meals, and slept out just as though we were in
the woods. We had a ball.
thing I remember about the weekly meetings was I
had my first car accident taking kids home from a
Monday night meeting. In the 1950's one could get
a driver's license at the age of 15. I was
driving my mother's blue Chevrolet Belair
four-door. I was, I believe, 16 years old and had
dropped several boys off at the end of the
dead-end street at 53rd and York where it stops
because of Minnehaha Creek. At that time I wanted
to see how fast my mothers car would go in
reverse. I learned the hard way that a car is
very hard to control in reverse, as the result of
my experiment was I put the trunk of the car
around a large elm tree directly in front of the
Moore family home at 5317 York Ave. South. Mrs.
Moore was very kind and I was allowed to call my
father who, as you can guess, was not pleased.
While no one was hurt, I learned that one should
not try to drive fast in reverse, especially if
one has to call their father if the results of
the experiment do not turn out as planned.
-Stuart Arey Jr.
Another major change
which occurred in the fifties is that Scouts ceased using the
street car to get downtown to meetings and started organizing
carpools or taking the bus. Dick Stone recalls an incident in
which a Scout had a knife drawn at him on the streetcar,
suggesting that they were becoming unsafe.
During the fifties,
Troop 33 also attended several National Jamborees. At the 1950
National jamboree at Valley Forge, Pennsylvania, 33 Scouts from
Troop 33 attended. Allan Hesdorffer remembers Bill Teeter being
seriously burned at the Jamboree and "we took turns treating
burn, on the train ride back to Minneapolis."
Senior Patrol Leader, I took 33 members of Troop
33 to the first world jamboree to be held after
the war in the U.S. It was at Valley Forge PA and
involved going by train via Chicago, with side
visits to D.C. Philadelphia, and New York. It was
a real leadership challenge and I very much
appreciated the latitude given to me by the adult
leaders. While I know they organized everything,
they gave me the impression I was in charge to
the Troop went to the National Jamboree. It was a
great experience. There were tents everywhere. We
did a lot of patch and neckerchief trading. At
night though, you had to put cotton in your ears
because there were these ticks that would crawl
in your ears. I remember they shipped us out in
old WWII trains.
The ticks mentioned by
Sierck are actually the best- remembered thing about the
Jamboree. Everyone I talked to from this era remembered them.
Back in Minnesota,
camping went on as usual:
hamburger with vegetable soup in foil stands out.
It usually was pretty good. I remember at least
one cooking story when I was a counselor on the
"Cub Line" at Ajawah. We were cooking
baked potatoes in foil over coals of a campfire.
One young boy was asked by another when take the
potatoes out of the fire. His answer was
the potatoes out when you want the potatoes
out!!" For years after that, in my family,
that was known by all of us as the "potatoes
philosophy of life."
-Stuart Arey Jr.
We did a
lot of winter camping, at least that stands out.
One winter camping, as one of the leaders, we
took the group on an overnight ski and snowshoe
hike to a county park that is located northeast
of Camp Ajawah. The gear and provisions were
taken by the camp truck. We set out from camp by
foot. During the hike, the weather turned bad and
into real blizzard. The boys were getting really
cold and having lots of trouble getting tents set
up. Fires were started, however, and that was
part of the problem. The tents were close to the
fires for warmth, and the embers were being blown
by a strong wind. Three tents began smoldering
although they did not burst into flame. We
finally abandoned the camp and took everyone to a
filling station on the edge of town by the county
park to warm up. We returned to camp by truck.
remember spending the night in a tent with a
garden heater to pass one of my first class
requirements. The temperature was below zero and
I've never been so cold. I felt like I was like
sleeping on an ice-cake. It was the second
longest night of my life.
up camp on the edge of a muddy cow pasture in
pitch dark light and discovered that somewhere
along the way a canoe with two boys and all our
food was missing. Bill Stanley decided to head up
river searching for the kids and told us young
leaders to get everyone bedded down and eat
whatever we could scavenge up. He came back at
about five in the morning with no news, exhausted
from not sleeping the entire night and worrying
about the lost kids. The next day we went to a
farmers house, who called camp, the park service,
and the police. A full-scale search and rescue
mission was set up complete with search plane,
police, rangers, farm-folk, and camp staff
searching for the lost boys.
I was on some
little bridge when I spotted their canoe drifting
down river towards me. Both were sound asleep,
straddling the inside of the canoe, and covered
with mosquito bites. The food packs floating in a
puddle of water. They were exhausted and starved.
I called on my walkie-talkie, telling the others
that they were safe and sound, a little rough
around the edges. We went back to camp another
near disaster avoided.
remember one year when "Capture the
Fort" injuries required the staff to call my
father, a Minneapolis physician, to drive up in
the middle of the night to check the injured.
seemed like every overnight had its share of
disasters. Nothing major, just the usual
rain or bugs or getting lost or ruining dinner. I
do remember that Ray Conover, who was the
resident Troop electrical genius, would always
have some fancy gimmick in his tent that he had
constructed. Usually a wireless radio or some
such device, so his tent was always busy. Mostly
I remember the friendships and the smell of smoke
and mud impregnated into your clothes, spending a
lot of time looking for wood for fires, making
your campsite up early, and through immersion and
practice learning skills I still use today.
The staff had time to
have fun, too:
1952 or 53, when I was Beach Director,
Craig Kissock and I and a couple of others went
into Forest Lake for a night off. There had been
a sort of running fun game between the beach
staff and the quartermasters, so when we got back
about 11:30 p.m. that night, we walked into the
beach tent, and lo, it was completely empty.
There was nothing left but the four screen walls,
the pyramid tent on top of it, and the floor . .
. after looking around, we found our beds, the
desk, chairs, clothing, and everything else out
on the diving raft.
It was during the
sixties that the annual Troop fundraiser, the wreath sale, began:
Enquist started the wreath sale, the Troop was in
debt and needed a good fundraiser. In the past
we'd done paper sales, which consisted of truck
being driven into the church parking lot and
everyone would bring their paper and fill the
truck. The wreath sale, however, was our first
real good consistent fund raiser.
In 1965 Kyle Cudworth,
after 45 years with the Troop, decided to retire. He was replaced
by Dave Moore, the present Scoutmaster of 33.
During the seventies the
Scouting movement declined nationally. There is no clear reason
for this decline but it was due to a number factors including
school sports, which started demanding more time and energy from
their participants, as well as the end of the baby-boom which
reduced the number of available boys. There was also the reaction
against the Vietnam War, in which a pseudo-military organization
like Scouts seemed out of place.
Troop 33, however,
stayed strong through the seventies, but experienced a fairly
severe membership decline in the early eighties. There was a time
when the Troop had only twelve members.
During the nineties,
however, Troop 33 was to make an incredible comeback.
Troop 33 History