I am often asked by people that knew me as a child, "Are still a Mormon?" People that do not know my history ask me, "Why are you a Mormon?" Both questions are understandable. The first because I was a flitter in the sense that in turn and for brief periods I attended a range of disparate diversions such as Brownies and Guides with my mother, Louie Bennett Bray Scott, who was a Brown Owl in one and a Guide Captain in the second.
Off my own bat I joined the Wolf Cubs, the Boy Scouts, then another Troop of Boy Scouts, The Boy's Brigade, Saint John's Ambulance Brigade, Huddersfield Youth Club, the Black Hand Gang, a Sports Training Club in an old tumble-down barn in Almondbury, Alfie Cleaving's Health and Strength Club, and others in which my stay was too brief to register.
I was also, briefly, a Nazi officer on account of having traded something unremembered for a German Officer's dress sword, scabbard and all, trimmed with would silver wire. There were plenty of lads in the Bath Street Gang and the freelancers that roamed the byways and forest paths of Greenhead Park eager to play one of our brave Tommies as a prisoner-of-war in the hands of the unprincipled Hun. He was the one with the sword and his britches seat worn and ragged from sl;iding down the smooth stone balustrades on the War Memorial in the park.
But, after I sliced my shoulder through to the bone by letting the keen blade fall ackwards into its flesh, we decided that war was dangerous, and since the real war had been over for a year or so, we might as well bury the hatchet and proclaim peace.
Soon after that I was declared redundant by Spring Grove Elementary School, and sent out into the snow of the winter of '49 to fend for myself.
That I flitted from one to another