Maryann Austin

I always knew when it was a Boy Scout day because of the smells in the house: a certain aroma of smoke soaked into handbooks, canteens, and clothing that had sat around campfires many times.  Back in 1970 when I was only 3 or 4 years old, my father was a den leader and my mother was a den mother.  Wanting to be a part, I remember insisting that I was a den sister.  My older brother Michael was heavily involved in scouts.  And every so often, my home was host to a group of young boys in that familiar khaki green.  We lived in Wayne, NJ.  And I still remember that we were a part of the Altaha Council. Last week BSA announced that they might soon be lifting the ban on gays.  Now, without starting WWIII, I would like the freedom to say that the news saddened me.  The BSA has always been a Christian organization.  Indeed, the cub scout promise--recited decades ago by my brother, recited years ago by my teen son, and recited now by my six year old--says  I promise to do my best To