My father was a pastor, and when I developed an interest in doing outdoorsy type stuff, I asked if I could join the Boy Scouts. I attended Christian school and went to church three days a week, sometimes even more. However, I feel by writing this incident down I can put that night behind me and finally put this harrowing encounter to bed. This event is the source of such fear and dread that thinking about it even twenty years later is sending shivers up and down my spine. Lately, my mind has been wandering back to my first camping experience.
