Donated scout land often ends up as cash cow

A view of harvested land at Camp McCroskey Boy Scout Camp near Tensed Idaho, on Tuesday June 10, 2008 (Photo/Seattle Post-Intelligencer, Gilbert W. Arias) A view of harvested land at Camp McCroskey Boy Scout Camp near Tensed Idaho, on Tuesday June 10, 2008 (Photo/Seattle Post-Intelligencer, Gilbert W. Arias) Photo: Gilbert W. Arias, Seattle Post-Intelligencer Photo: Gilbert W. Arias, Seattle Post-Intelligencer Image 1 of / 1 Caption Close Donated scout land often ends up as cash cow 1 / 1 Back to Gallery

It's been 62 years since conservationist Virgil McCroskey gave the Boy Scouts 400 acres of timberland near this village in Idaho's panhandle, with big ideas for a big new camp.

But don't expect any pup tents or even the faintest whiff of smoke from Camp McCroskey these days.

Rarely used for camping, the land instead has become a moneymaker for the Inland Northwest Council of Boy Scouts. Over the past 35 years, the council has repeatedly logged the property, collecting hundreds of thousands of dollars. Some of the money helped pay the mortgage on council headquarters in far-off Spokane, a former council board member says.

Never mind that McCroskey specified how the scouts should use the land when he deeded it in 1947: "for camp and recreational purposes, the site to be known as Virgil Talmadge McCroskey Camp."

Council officials interpret McCroskey's deed to mean they can log the land, so long as revenues are spent on anything related to "recreational purposes."

Friends and relatives of McCroskey say he'd be appalled.

"They've basically used it as a cash cow," said Bob McCroskey, a cousin to the late land donor. "They just waited till he died."

Like McCroskey, many donors nationwide have given land to local scout councils, thinking they'd be preserved or used by boys for outdoor activities. While some gave properties with little more than a handshake, others wrote deed restrictions meant to require councils to conserve the land.

But a Hearst Newspapers investigation found that in dozens of cases, scouting councils have logged or sold such donated properties, sometimes going to court to overturn deed restrictions that might otherwise have interfered, records show. Such actions have sparked several lawsuits and public outrage in Washington, New York, Texas, Florida, Ohio and other states.

"This has happened in too many places for it to be a random thing," said Anne Miller, who sued an Arizona scout council to block developers from acquiring land her father donated to the scouts for a camp.

Scouting officials say that as private nonprofits, local councils manage their own lands. Officials say they don't want to log or sell donated properties, but sometimes have no other option.

Donated land may not be properly zoned, they say. It may pose security risks or simply not be suited for camping, they say. Other land gifts that once served well as camps may have become too costly to maintain or have fallen out of use due to encroaching development or scouting demographics shifts, they say.

"Society at the time that many of these donations were made was so different than it is today," said Doug Dillow, North New Jersey Council executive.

But critics say scouting officials too often sell off donated lands when seeking to pay other expenses. That's a slap in the face to donors, they say.

Bequests and clear-cuts

When their local scout council began clear-cutting Camp Lowman near Athens, Ohio, in 2000, 8-year-old Cub Scout Jeb Branner and his father, John, sued.

Businessman Willard Lowman had donated the land in 1948 for a camp. Officials for the Allohak Council planned to spend most of $40,000 in expected logging proceeds for a new dining hall at another camp.

The Branners won an injunction to stop the logging, and after Lowman's son came forward to testify to his late father's wishes, the council agreed to preserve the camp, John Branner said.

"It's a nice camp with a lot of virgin timber that makes for a nice Boy Scouts retreat," said David Lowman, the donor's son. "That's what (my dad) wanted."

The council executive at the time of the controversy did not return phone calls seeking comment.

In Texas, the Three Rivers Council convinced the nonprofit Stark Foundation to waive deed restrictions in 2001 to allow the sale of Camp Bill Stark, a 132-acre pine woodland near Beaumont.

Lutcher Stark had donated the land some 70 years earlier, specifying it be used for a camp. Scouting officials said they couldn't afford to maintain it, and promised to use sale proceeds to improve another camp. But once released from the deed restriction, they sold the land to an investment firm, and most of it was immediately clear-cut.

Foundation Chairman Walter Riedel III, an Eagle Scout, said scout leaders assured foundation officials that part of the woodland would be preserved as a camp.

"Being a scout - I expected them to do the right thing and be honest with us and I'm not real sure that happened," Riedel said.

Former executive Jack Crawford, who no longer works for the scouts, declined comment.

Some critics contend the scouts specifically look for ways to profit off land gifts.

John Shontz, a lawyer in Helena, Mont., said an aging doctor hired him several years ago to help bequeath 1,500 unspoiled acres on the Missouri River to the Montana Council.

But council officials brought in a regional director and a lawyer who refused to agree that the land could only be used for recreation. That nixed the deal.

"It was obvious to both me and my client ... they wanted to turn around and log, develop or sell it to make a huge profit," Shontz said.

Retired scouting executive Norman Stone said the dynamic nature of land requires councils to avoid taking gifts with strings.

"I don't know any organization that will say, 'Restrict me for life on this as a camping property,' because at some point, it may be unsuitable for camping," he said. "You have to be able to divest property that no longer fits your objectives."

'Recreational purposes'

McCroskey was a dedicated outdoorsman of the 1940s and 1950s who donated the land for two state parks, including Mary Minerva McCroskey State Park in Idaho, which he named for his mother.

Next to McCroskey Park, he set aside land for a scout camp, working for years with boys and volunteers to cut trails, install a well water system and build basic shelters.

Few structures have survived the high-impact logging at the camp. In 1974, two years after McCroskey died, the Spokane council sold timber on the camp for $675,000 to the Potlatch Corp., records show. The ensuing clear-cut harvested about 3 million board feet of timber.

"Virgil would be turning over in his grave if he knew about it," said Lee Sahlin, a former scout leader whose wife is related to McCroskey.

The council has logged parts of the camp at least three more times since 1996.

Tim McCandless, the council's current executive, said recent logging has been responsibly done under a long-term management plan. Because it's land-locked with steep terrain, the camp "isn't as desirable for camping" as the council's three other camps, he added.

Any logging revenue goes into an endowment that pays for other camps' upkeep, McCandless said. "So I would argue that Camp McCroskey, indeed, is being used for 'recreational purposes' as the deed states."