This Saturday is the annual "Scouting for Food" collection event sponsored by the Greater St. Louis Area Boy Scouts of America. Often billed as the nation's largest one-day community food drive, the program brings in over a million pounds of donated canned goods every year.
Begun in St. Louis in 1985, Scouting for Food now involves tens of thousands of Scouts and parents, plus many corporate and civic partners. In our region, donations are collected across 37 counties in Missouri and Illinois, and distributed to more than 400 food pantries to support needy families.
You've probably seen the empty plastic bags hanging on door knobs all across town. Last Saturday, Scouts were driven around their neighborhoods to deliver the bags, and then this week they'll make a second sweep to gather up any donated products which contributors set out. If you don't have an official Scouting for Food one, any plastic grocery bag will work.
All canned goods are welcome, but high-nutrition foods are preferred, such as hearty soups, stews, vegetables, beans, tuna, fruit juice, etc. Please, no glass jars or cans that are oozing.
This topic brings up a story I never get tired of telling. Since a community-wide charity event needs public relations and media exposure, Scouting for Food relies on support from various high-profile sponsors. In 2000, one of those sponsors was the St. Louis Rams.
That year, several boys from our Scout troop were chosen to participate in a campaign kick-off event (no football pun intended) at Rams Park in Earth City.
The premise of the shtick was that the Scouts were there to hang empty food donation bags on the players' lockers; then the kids got to sit for publicity photos with Ernie Conwell, the team's designated spokespartner for the campaign.
After the picture-taking and a quick tour of the facilities, the Rams' office people started hustling us out of the building because the players were arriving for practice, and we would obviously be in their way.
As our cluster of Scouts and parents exited to the parking lot, I was at the back of the group making small talk with the Rams' PR man who had been our guide. Suddenly he stopped in his tracks and gasped, "Oh, no!" He had just seen Kurt Warner drive up.
If you remember that brief era in St. Louis football lore, you know that Kurt Warner's mythical rise from obscurity to stardom — highlighted by that amazing Super Bowl win earlier in the year — made him a larger-than-life celebrity.
I then discovered that our front-office host was under strict orders to keep the Scouts away from Mr. Warner that day; apparently the Rams organization felt that Kurt's new status and fame entitled him to a higher degree of privacy, and our presence might impinge on it.
Kurt got out of his car and headed toward the building. He was still about 200 yards away from us, and closing. We were on a collision course. I saw near-panic on our host executive's face as he ran to the front of our group and literally started turning Scouts in the opposite direction. But the kids had spotted Kurt too, and as they slowed down to catch a closer look, the Rams' PR guy vainly tried harder to move them away. It was like herding cats.
Just then, a friendly voice from the parking lot shouted, "Hey guys, wait up — what's going on?" It was Kurt Warner himself, now veering our way and jogging over to greet us. He had seen a bunch of uniformed Boy Scouts and likely assumed we didn't come to steal Mike Martz's secret plays.
The kids then eagerly explained to him about Scouting for Food and why we were there, and Kurt was clearly impressed. He stayed and talked for several minutes, posing for pictures and signing autographs, and just generally being a Swell Guy.
While Kurt stood in the parking lot and chatted with the Scouts, the Rams' PR guy walked over to where I was standing behind the group. Looking both nervous and relieved, he said, "Well, I guess I can't get in trouble if he came over to us, right?"
So this Saturday, as our Scout troop unbags, sorts and packs tons of food, I'll be grateful for all the support and encouragement we've been given over the years — from an NFL MVP to every generous person who steps outside on a chilly November morning to put a can of Spam in a plastic bag.
Steve Unger has been professionally writing for 30-plus years to help companies sell stuff. His Journal columns are a labor of love to salute the people, places and charm of St. Louis. If you'd like to share a memory of St. Louis or drop him a line, he can be reached at stevethewordguy@aol.com.
