Scouting is a memory bank.

I sometimes wrestle with the issue of whether I should post more photos from my Dad's scouting days. I wonder if the scouting photos don't bore my occasional visitors.

Scouting wove through my Dad's life, and I feel compelled to preserve that corner of his legacy. As a child, for example, Dad wore his scouting uniform to a family dinner. He chose to be in uniform for a formal portrait. Dad treasured photos from his camping trips in Lithuania. After Dad fled Lithuania as a refugee, he regrouped with other Lithuanian scouts in the DP camp. There, he photographed a memorable scoutmaster. Dad joined fellow DPs in scouting activities a few months before he married, and he traveled to the Scouting Jamboree while he still was a newlywed.

Finally, Dad spent the last few months of his life collecting and restoring his scouting photos.

Near Kaunas, Lithuania, about 1936. My Dad is the little guy with the eye glasses, tucked behind the left side of the scoutmaster's head, between the two taller girls.

Scouting

Scouting was popular in Lithuania during the years of independence, 1918 to 1940. It was more than an activity for children; it was a way for people to express their national pride. It was also, unlike other organizations, not heavily inflected with religious overtones.

My Dad participated in the Lithuanian Scouts from early childhood through his late twenties. Dad met his closest friends through scouting, and he had a poignant attachment to his memories of the organization. When Dad fell ill, he devoted hours to rephotographing and retouching the faded snapshots from his scouting years. He assembled the restored photos, which he printed himself, in an album dedicated to scouting. It was one of the last things Dad did before he died.

The scouting organizations also played important roles among Displaced Persons during the 1940s. Dad was active as a scout in the DP camps, and he served as a mentor to younger Lithuanian men. When my Parents married, the Lithuanian Scouts presented them with a traditional Lithuanian wedding gift, a decorated wooden plate. The inscription on the back of the plate read, "We wish much happiness to our dear Brother as he steps forward into a new life." That plate still rests on my desk.

Schweinfurt, Germany, 1948. My Dad, second from right, joins fellow Lithuanian Scouts in the DP camp in which they lived. This photo was taken shortly before my Parents married.

Scouting in Exile

During the Displaced Person years, Lithuanian scouts maintained their traditions and played a role in preserving Lithuanian history. Scouting was an important piece of DP culture. Both my Dad and his twin sister, Jonė, were active in the scouting movement, and both held leadership roles among the refugee, Lithuanian scouts.

Isarhorn, Germany, August 2 to 14, 1948. My Dad's twin sister, Jonė, stands behind a little cub scout. Standing on the far left is a group of Lithuanian Sea Scouts, in their distinctive uniforms.

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In August, 1948, Lithuanian scouts gathered at Isarhorn, a camping area in the Bavarian Alps, to celebrate the third National Scouting Jamboree. Members of all the branches of scouting—land scouts, sea scouts, air scouts, cub scouts, and girl scouts—joined in the two-week celebration.

My Dad and his twin sister, Jonė, traveled to Isarhorn; it was their first trip to the Alps.

Isarhorn, Germany, August 2 to 14, 1948. Some fearless scouts explore the mountain tops.

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Isarhorn, Germany, August 2 to 14, 1948. A group of scouts walks along a narrow, roped path between a mountain and a stream.

Isarhorn, Germany, August 2 to 14, 1948. The group stops along the path for a photo.

Unknown Rank

A reader recently asked what rank my Dad had held in the Lithuanian scouts. I don't know. Although Dad spoke a lot about his fondness for scouting, and he occasionally mentioned some scouting outings, he did not talk about details.

Perhaps this photo of him in the scouting uniform will provide more information:

Schweinfurt, Germany, 1948. I love how my Dad, the fellow in the center, is the one scout who is wearing knee-high socks.

A Strong Connection

When my Dad was dying, I drove from Ohio to Suburban Chicago to spend Thanksgiving with him and my Mom. Dad had been ill for a long time, and the family knew he would die soon. He managed well during that holiday weekend; he was bright, lucid, and he even walked downstairs to eat the turkey meal at the dining room table.

While I was with Dad, he showed me a photo album that he'd recently created. Like the scouting album, this one preserved special memories. Into the album, Dad pasted reprints of old family photos. These were photos that Dad had restored and rephotographed over the years. There were photos from his childhood, photos relatives had sent from Lithuania, and photos Dad found especially interesting.

Dad had wanted to annotate each black-and-white print in the album. His handwriting, however, had become illegible because of his illness. So he asked me to do it for him. We sat together, at the mahogany desk in the master bedroom, as Dad identified each person in the photo, provided a date, and sometimes told a story. I recorded what Dad said in the margins of the photos, writing in pencil. I recall, however, that I found the work tedious, and I was a bit agitated about the task. It seemed like a trivial activity for such a heavy time.

As we collaborated, Dad showed particular attachment to two photos from 1936. One was a photo of his father, Vytautas, in Belgium. The other was of a street in Kaunas that had flooded during the month of March. 

I wasn't able, then, to determine why these photos had touched my Dad so deeply. Today, I looked at the back of the original photo of the flooded Kaunas street, and I made the connection. My paternal Grandfather, Vytautas, was on an extended business trip in Belgium when the Kaunas flood occurred, and my Dad had sent a photo of the flooded street to his traveling father.

Here is what my Dad wrote—in a child's penmanship—on the back of the photo:

March 17, 1936.

My Precious Daddy!

I am sending you a photograph that my cousin took. He took this photo on Maironis Street during the time of the flood. This year, there was a very big flood in Kaunas. The water had risen above the seven-meter mark. Now, the water is gradually receding, and things are beginning to dry out. It seemed like spring already was about to begin, but then it began, unbelievably, to snow again.

Wednesday I will take the examinations for the second scouting level. The exams will test knotting, thatching, and weaving. On Thursday I'll be tested on Morse Coding. I've already worked on the photography test, and I've seen the negatives. 

Lately, I've been coming home from school early because the homeroom teacher has been sick. The Lithuanian class teacher also is ill.

Goodbye, I kiss you many times.

Your little sparrow,

[Irene's Dad]

It's a potent mix: boyhood, longing for an absent Dad, exciting events at home, and … scouting.

This is the 1936 photo of my paternal Grandfather, Vytautas, traveling in Belgium: 

Here is the 1936 photo of the flooded street, Maironio Gatvė, in Kaunas:

And here is a 1957 postcard featuring a view of the Nemunas River, the cause of the flood, as it runs through Kaunas:

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UPDATE: Here is a view of the seven-meter mark, showing how high the water levels rose:

Kaunas, Lithuania, August 2011. Tourists walk by the water-level marker. Thanks to my Toronto Cousin for making this photo available to me.

The Last of the Jamboree Snapshots

Isarhorn, Germany, August 2 to 14, 1948. I've posted most of the photos from the third National Scouting Jamboree that my Dad had saved in his scouting album. If you're one of the readers who comes here to see DP-era scouting snapshots, don't fret; I still have a few more things planned.

Beloved Friend

My Dad was close friends with the author Romualdas Spalis ("Spalis," the Lithuanian word for "October," was the writer's nom de plume). Mom and I had assumed that Dad and Spalis had become friends in high school, at Aušros Gimnazija. My Dad nurtured a sentimental attachment to that school, and he formed strong friendships there.

But Spalis was quite a bit older than my Dad,* and the two men would not have overlapped at Aušros Gimnazija. Today, I reread the newspaper clipping of Spalis's obituary, and I see that Spalis was active in Lithuanian scouting. That would explain the strong ties between my Dad and Spalis, and one photo of the two men confirmed my hunch.

After Spalis fled Lithuania during the Soviet occupation, he settled in Great Britain. In 1973, he visited Chicago. I don't know the purpose of Spalis's trip, but he stayed with our family, and it was the source of great joy and excitement for my Dad, who had not seen his friend in about thirty years.

*The Lithuanian "Vikipedia" [sic] misstates Spalis's date of birth as 1913. He was born in 1915.

Suburban Chicago, April 1973. My Mom, my paternal Grandmother Tatjana, and Gigi greet the special visitor. Everyone is in the entryway of our split-level home.

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Suburban Chicago, April 1973. This is the photo that provided the scouting clue. My Dad and Spalis have put a scouting sash around themselves. You've seen that sash earlier, here.

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Suburban Chicago, April 1973. My Dad looks happy here.

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Suburban Chicago, April 1973. Spalis takes a walk around our neighborhood street.

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Suburban Chicago, April 1973. Our American house and our American cars.

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Suburban Chicago, April 1973. Dad takes his friend to O'Hare International Airport, back when hosts still could escort their guests to the gate, and the waiting area featured steel-can ashtrays.

But, "For Your Protection ... Carry-On Baggage is Subject to Examination."

When photos offer few clues.

My Dad's twin sister, Jonė, was active in scouting, just like my Dad. We don't remember whether Jonė ever traveled to the Alps when she was living in a Displaced Persons camp in the American-occupied zone of Germany.

My Dad joined fellow DP scouts in a 1948 Jamboree celebrating thirty years of Lithuanian scouting. The photos from the Jamboree have dates. We also know that anniversary fell in 1948 because that year marked three decades since Lithuania had regained its independence from Russia.

We decided Jonė could not have been to the Jamboree because she emigrated to Canada in 1947.

Old photos sometimes raise more questions than they answer. Here, for example, stands Jonė near the Bavarian Alps. My Dad had grouped this snapshot with his other images from the Jamboree.

Isarhorn, Germany, August 1948. Jonė, on the left, joins two scouting friends.

UPDATE: My Toronto Cousin has confirmed that Jonė did travel to the Isarhorn Jamboree. The photo posted in this entry therefore dates between August 2 and 14, 1948.

Scouting Parade

In August 1948, my Dad and other Lithuanian Displaced Persons traveled from the various DP camps to Isarhorn, Germany. They arrived in the Bavarian town to participate in the National Scouting Jamboree, a celebration of three decades of Lithuanian scouting.

To read more about the Jamboree, click on the "Isarhorn" label below.

Isarhorn, Germany, August 2 to 14, 1948. My Dad—on the far left, wearing the dark shorts and hat—leads other Lithuanian scouts as they enter Isarhorn.

Opening Dedication

Isarhorn, Germany, August 2, 1948. I believe this is the dedication of the opening ceremonies for the National Scouting Jamboree. The Jamboree celebrated thirty years of scouting in an independent Lithuania.

The tablecloth and folkdress are very familiar.

Memorable Meeting

Schweinfurt, Germany, January 18, 1948. Two leaders among the Displaced-Persons scouts conduct a meeting. My Dad has several photographs from this day, including another snapshot of the mentor pictured here.

Was this a significant gathering, perhaps designed to plan for the Scouting Jamboree that took place later that year in Isarhorn? Or was it a meeting to discuss how to preserve the scouting traditions because so many of the DPs secured permission to leave Germany in 1948?

The Cultural Exhibit

I wrote earlier about the Displaced Persons' measures to preserve their culture here and here. In both posts, I mentioned that my paternal Grandmother, Tatjana, was involved in creating an exhibit (a "paroda") about Lithuanian traditions for the Schweinfurt DP camp.

Here are photographs of that exhibit:

Schweinfurt, Germany, December 1946. The sign at the entry to the exhibit states, "Lithuania, Our Homeland." The area features the "Vytis," the Lithuanian coat of arms, and wooden crosses.

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Schweinfurt, Germany, December 1946. Another area showcased Lithuanian folkdress, weaving, and tablecloths.

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Schweinfurt, Germany, December 1946. The exhibit included some examples of hand sewn garments that blended traditional designs with modern silhouettes.

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Schweinfurt, Germany, December 1946. The organizers devoted an area to "darbai," or "works" of small embroidered objects, like pillows, hankies, and table runners.

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Schweinfurt, Germany, December 1946. Look! There was a display devoted to knitting (and other needle arts). Here, Tatjana stands on the far right with a fellow organizer.

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Schweinfurt, Germany, December 1946. This is part of the display of dolls dressed in national folkdress . Lithuania, a country of about three million people, had different geographic regions. The folkdress of each region was distinct and recognizable.

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Schweinfurt, Germany, December 1946.  Tatjana sits with some of the dolls for which she sewed folkdress costumes.

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Schweinfurt, Germany, December 1946. The exhibit even had an area alerting visitors to the importance of scouting in Lithuanian culture. Here's a miniature scouting camp!

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Schweinfurt, Germany, December 1946. Tatjana and other organizers of the exhibit reflect on their accomplishment. The bespeckled woman holding the doll is almost certainly an UNRRA official; I reach this conclusion because she corresponded with Tatjana in French. The gent in the ascot also looks like a UNRRA appointee. He has medals. Maybe he is a Brit? I don't know the identity of the young woman in folkdress.

Scouting Pyramid

Probably near Schweinfurt, Germany, about 1948. My Dad does not appear in this photo, but these fellows must have been his close friends. This shot features prominently in Dad's scouting album.

Scouting created ties that lasted.

Lithuania, 1939. My Dad—the one with the glasses—sits with his scouting friends at camp.

At the Entrance to the Scouting Camp

Near Schweinfurt, Germany, about 1948. The Lithuanian scouts from the Displaced Persons camp have crafted an entry that features the scouting insignia and a cross.

Leaders

Schweinfurt, Germany, 1948. My Dad, standing on the far right, joins leaders from the other Lithuanian scouting branches in the DP camp. Dad had fond memories of his scouting days.

The Littlest Scout

Schweinfurt, Germany, about 1945 or 1946. This is my Dad—in his scouting uniform—visiting with a friend's daughter at the Displaced Persons camp.

Stuck

Lithuania, 1939. My Dad's scouting troop pushes their truck, after it got stuck in the mud.

This is one of the last scouting images.

Schweinfurt, Germany, Summer 1948. My Dad (second from left) joins fellow scouts shortly before the group's departure for the Isarhorn jamboree.

Centered on Friendship

Seligenstadt, Germany, 1948. My Dad, in the center, meets with two friends after a scouting event.