The Boy Scouts of America had been around for just four years in 1914, and San Francisco’s Chinatown wasn’t much older, when Chingwah Lee and his friends came across a scout manual in the Chinese Methodist Church play yard.

The boy on the front of the booklet had curly hair and didn’t look like them. He was standing in a forest with canoes and tents that might as well have been outer space for eight children squeezed by post-earthquake redevelopment into a too-compact urban neighborhood — and who faced prejudice and violence if they strayed outside.

“They lived in a community that was basically insular. They couldn’t venture out,” says Bill Woo, a scout in the 1950s.

It was a tough environment to form San Francisco’s first Boy Scout troop; like trying to grow orchids in a freeway median. Where would they go on hikes, learn horsemanship or practice riflery? How would they advance, in a culture where immigrant parents spoke only Cantonese and had no money to spare?

Left: The first picture of Troop 3 shortly after its creation. Right, March 9, 1964: Troop 3 founder Chingwah Lee became an art collector and actor, but remained involved with the scouts.

But Lee and his friends were determined.

“That was how the troop was born,” Woo says. “The initiative of young boys.”

Against all odds and logic, a Boy Scout troop from San Francisco’s Chinatown has survived for 108 years.

But now Troop 3, believed to be the oldest Boy Scout troop west of the Mississippi, is hanging on by a thread. There’s a merit badge for wilderness survival. Maybe there should be one for urban survival too.

Boy Scout Troop 3 leader Hap Velleno and the troop examine the contents of a geocache they found hidden during a practice hike around Leak Merced.

Cars are speeding by on Sloat Boulevard, so loud that it’s hard to hear the instructions for this 4.5-mile hike around Lake Merced in southwest San Francisco.

Assistant scoutmaster Hap Velleno, 76, a retired engineer who specializes in knot-tying, local history and dad jokes, sends 17-year-old scout leader Lucien Lin to the front — then appoints a “trailing Charlie” at the back of the hike to prevent separation. Not that there’s a big risk of that. The hike follows busy roads, and the leaders, alumni and reporters outnumber the five active scouts on the excursion.

Lin wears a crisp boy scout shirt tucked into jeans, but some of the younger scouts’ uniforms are buried in layers. It may be June, but it’s 58 degrees by the lake. The scouts, ranging in age from 13 to 17, mostly walk in pairs during this routine warmup for a summer camping trip.

Portraits of Troop 3 members, past and present. Clockwise from top left: Scoutmaster Steven Chang, current Troop 3 leader Lucien Lin, member Aaron Dominguez, Eagle Scout alum Michael Cosman, Erik Alden, William Tan, Eagle Scout Tony Lau, Eduardo Dominguez.

Like the first generation of Troop 3 boys, the scouts in 2022 are city kids through and through. Lin, who is on track to become an Eagle Scout — the highest rank for a Boy Scout — takes two Muni buses from his high school near City Hall to arrive at Thursday night troop meetings on the northern edge of Chinatown. For a recent “backpack shakedown” in preparation for a trek near Lake Tahoe, the troop hauled full packs through the neighborhood for more than a mile, turning heads from locals and tourists alike.

It is hard to be a modern scout in San Francisco, let alone accumulate the merit badges and community service needed to climb the ranks and reach Star Scout, Life Scout or, finally, the coveted Eagle Scout. Imagine trying to get a rifle or shotgun badge in a city with the current politics and population density of San Francisco.

“Even (badges) like orienteering and pioneering, which requires you to go on extensive hikes and orient yourself through the terrain,” Lin says. “You might not be able to do that in the city because everything is so laid out here.”

Resourcefulness has always been a hallmark of the troop. Velleno, 76, tells the story of scouts decades ago learning morse code from a ringing cable car bell; the gripman was a former Troop 3 member. In the late 1950s, Bill Woo’s troop would haul gear on Muni and camp in Golden Gate Park. (“Back in those days we could actually start (camp) fires in Golden Gate Park,” he recalls.)

There were language barriers and dynamics in Chinese families that ran counter to scouting traditions. For example, children in Chinatown in the 1920s simply didn’t ask their hard-working immigrant parents for money to go camping.

But again and again, the scouts found a way. After losing their adult leaders to World War II in the 1940s, the Troop 3 scouts managed to go camping by themselves. While other San Francisco troops took buses and carpools, Troop 3 hiked the entire 23 miles to Camp Lilienthal near Fairfax in Marin County.

Troop 3 scouts hiking on their way to Camp Lilienthal in Marin County in 1942.

“The Camp Lilienthal director was very understanding and allowed us to camp on our own and use the facilities, since none of us could afford to pay to go officially,” alumnus Wilbur Woo wrote in a 2014 essay. “We had no proper camping equipment or tents. We slept on top of a tarp under the stars.”

One surreal scene, captured in 1985 Chronicle photos, shows Troop 3 and other San Francisco scouts camping on the rooftop of the Embarcadero Four skyscraper in the heart of downtown.

Leaders built a makeshift pond stocked with catfish, but, elevated slightly above their usual habitat, the creatures refused to take the bait. Scouts tried to hook and grab the fish, leading to one boy accidentally dropping a catfish 571 feet onto the bustling Financial District below.

“He caught it, but it slipped out of his hands,” current Troop 3 scoutmaster Steven Chang remembers. “We thought, ‘I hope it didn’t kill anybody.’ ... (W)e didn’t see any crowds or fire engine lights. It was like, ‘Thank goodness.’”

April 1, 1985: Boy Scout Troop 3 member Nelson Yee holds up a trout during a campout on top of Embarcadero Center 4 in San Francisco.

San Francisco was a very different place when Chingwah Lee and his friends found the Boy Scout manual in a church yard.

The earthquake and fire that destroyed Chinatown, along with much of the city, was just one in a series of indignities forced on the Chinese population. During the 1800s, Chinatown residents had endured white mob violence, plague quarantines and xenophobic rioters threatening to turn back steamships filled with Chinese immigrants at the port.

Chronicle archive newspaper clippings featuring Troop 3 from 1964 and 1922.

After the 1906 disaster, the military ordered the Chinese population to a tent city on Van Ness Avenue, then wealthier residents smashed their safes and stole what was left of their belongings. City leaders even suggested moving the Chinese community out of San Francisco permanently, forcing resettlement in Colma. But Chinese leaders organized and lobbied the government, rebuilding Chinatown with tourist-friendly flourishes.

It was in the wake of this chaos that San Francisco’s first Boy Scout troop formed in Chinatown. Their timing turned out to be excellent.

San Francisco was building back better after the earthquake and fire, trying to reestablish itself as a world-class destination, and the Chinatown troop was in demand. They sold Liberty Bonds to support the Allies in World War I, served as guides during city conventions and were honor guards for former President William Taft’s visit to the Panama-Pacific International Exposition in 1915.

When the deadly influenza of 1918 arrived in San Francisco, Troop 3 scouts distributed flu masks and ran errands for the sick.

April 1, 1985: Members of Boy Scouts Troop 3 and Troop 84 camp on top of Embarcadero Center 4 in San Francisco.

They were the first Boy Scouts in the Golden Gate Area Council, which now supervises hundreds of troops and more than 30,000 children mostly in Alameda and Contra Costa Counties, and up north to Clear Lake.

After World War I, scouting became a vital part of city life, as troops emerged in every neighborhood. By the 1950s there were more than 15,000 scouts in San Francisco; the Scout-O-Rama, where Boy Scouts displayed their skills, was hosted by the Cow Palace in Daly City, the only indoor venue big enough to hold them all.

Troop 3 quickly grew from the original eight in 1914 to more than 130 scouts at three Chinatown meeting spots.

Troop 3 scouts hike around San Francisco Chinatown with loaded packs to practice for a backpacking trip. The troop has lasted 108 years in the city, but finds it increasingly difficult to recruit new members.

“I was here when there were only three people in the troop,” says 20-year-old Matthew Chen, as he helps chaperone the Lake Merced hike.

Like most kids who enter the doors of American Legion Cathay Post 384, Chen remembers how he joined Troop 3: Reluctantly.

His first day was back in 2014 — Troop 3’s 100th anniversary — when the roster dropped to just three scouts, an all-time low for a group that has incredible alumni support but finds recruitment increasingly frustrating.

“In the beginning, I didn’t know what I was doing here,” says Chen. “Every time I tell someone I’m a Boy Scout, an Eagle Scout, they get really surprised. Not just because of the way I look. They don’t expect Boy Scouts to be out in the city at all.”

Leaders say that overscheduling is the greatest enemy of modern scouting. Kids with violin lessons, martial arts, a traveling soccer team and extracurricular tutoring simply don’t have time for an extra weekly meeting plus the energy that goes into gaining scout ranks.

“Rarely do we lose a kid because they’re bored,” Chang says. “That’s not the problem. It’s when they have other commitments. ‘Sorry, the kid had to study more.’”

The popularity of scouting in general has waned, too, as the organization has been embroiled in controversy and slow to adapt to changing norms. The Boy Scouts of America didn’t lift its ban on gay adult leaders until 2015, and last year the organization reached an $850 million settlement in a national lawsuit with thousands of people who said they were sexually abused as scouts.

(Chang offers that, today, everyone is welcome as a Troop 3 scout or leader, regardless of sexual preference or gender. While there has never been a female Troop 3 scout, girls are invited to join.)

In San Francisco, scout participation has plummeted. After a high of 16,000 Boy Scouts in 1959, the ranks dropped to 4,000 in 1985, according to Chronicle articles from the time. Today, local officials report 1,000 active scouts in San Francisco and Daly City. Troop 3 leaders think there are even fewer.

Lucien Lin, who was brought to Troop 3 (also reluctantly) by his mother, says he doesn’t know other scouts in his senior class at International High School.

“Some of them make fun of me for being a scout,” he says, “but at the same time, a couple of them are planning on going backpacking, and they may or may not be relying on me.”

Troop 3 Boy Scouts led by Lucien Lin salute during one of their regular Thursday meetings at Cathay American Legion Post in San Francisco Chinatown. The oldest Boy Scout troop in the city was formed in 1914 by Chingwah Lee and friends.

Former scout Bill Woo remembers his 1950s childhood before the Boy Scouts vividly. He lived in North Beach but attended school in Chinatown, walking through a “gauntlet” every day that could include physical beatings from the white kids along the way. Scouting bonded him with lifetime friends.

Scoutmaster Chang had a similar experience. His father worked six days a week in the 1960s, and Ronald Lee, a scoutmaster from 1962 to 1984, became a second father. Troop 3 took Chang to the woods, but really it showed him the world.

“As a kid, I probably never would have left the neighborhood without the Boy Scouts,” Chang says. “My life was all within a mile from North Beach to Chinatown and back again. School, sports, all within a one-mile walking radius. We didn’t have a car. We never left the city.”

Chen and fellow alum Oscar Luo, also 20, say they were unsure about scouting initially, but found confidence and purpose through Troop 3, which is now “another family.” Luo is at Cal Poly-San Luis Obispo pursuing a business degree. Chen is going to school in San Francisco, with plans to become a physical therapist.

“As a kid, I was really shy. In class when a teacher asked me a question, I probably wouldn’t respond,” Luo says, recalling the skills he developed pursuing his public speaking merit badge. “In Boy Scouts we had a lot of leadership opportunities just in the troop.”

The boy who found the scout handbook in 1914, Chingwah Lee, remained a scoutmaster, even after he became a movie star — appearing in “The Good Earth” (1937) and “Flower Drum Song” (1961).

Other alumni include Thomas Chinn, who founded Chinese Digest, the first English-language weekly Chinese newspaper in the United States; and Jonathan A. Yuen, a retired Navy admiral. Alumni from the past two decades have attended Ivy League schools and MIT.

Despite that impact, Troop 3 has struggled to survive. And decade after decade, it has turned to alumni to ensure scouting continues for another generation.

Chang, now 66, became Scoutmaster in 2018, with a primary goal to keep Troop 3 alive, seeking new recruits with in-person visits at local middle schools.

Mostly they try to make joining as easy as possible.

Beyond expensive camping trips, most Troop 3 costs are covered by the troop and its alumni. The American Legion Cathay Post is filled with donated tents, sleeping bags and backpacks; and the veterans’ organization has provided a home base for the Chinatown scouts, free of charge, for more than 70 years.

“I would hate to see this troop go under and lose their legacy,” Chang says.

Boy Scout Troop 3 members hike through San Francisco Chinatown in preparation for their upcoming five-day backpacking trek near Lake Tahoe.

It’s a cold Thursday in June, and a big day for Troop 3. They have a camping trip to Desolation Wilderness in Tahoe coming up.

More significantly, a new member has arrived. Sitting on the couch in nervous silence, it’s hard to tell if the newcomer is in awe of the older scouts, or considering making a break for the door. When equally shy twin boys join later in the summer, it brings the ranks to 13 members — which makes the scoutmasters rejoice, if not relax.

After quick announcements, everyone settles into their places at Cathay Post; a couple of mothers in another room, Vellano and Chang off to the side, and the scouts being supervised by Tony Lau and Michael Cosman, young alumni who have returned to volunteer.

Sporadic cheers coming from North Beach bars filter into the room; the Warriors are winning their championship-clinching game. But the scouts inside are playing games that are gloriously old school: A shoe is tied to a rope and spun in a circle, the kids laughing as they jump over the obstacle. Blankets and long sticks are MacGyvered into stretchers for a race.

The city has reinvented itself many times since 1914, but much of Troop 3 is the same.

The biggest change is in the demographics. Troop 3 still has Chinese members, but now, as you turn from face to face, the group looks more like a United Nations delegation than an insular community.

Does Troop 3 have a place in 2022? Bill Woo doesn’t hesitate.

This troop exists, he says, to give “urban kids a chance to do outdoor stuff.”

“It’s a basic value that’s universal and will remain so,” Woo says. “Exposing city kids to nature and camping and hiking and the world outside San Francisco. It’s a wonderful way to grow up.”

Chang, whose heart wants to cheer every time a new kid cautiously steps through the door, hopes that Troop 3’s fortunes are on the rise. With fewer colleges accepting standardized testing, the Eagle Scout rank may be more valuable on a college application, perhaps a lure to get some of those elusive overscheduled kids in the door.

Chang says his Eagle Scout ceremony, back in 1973, was one of the greatest moments of his life. He still remembers the overwhelming pride he felt receiving his red-white-and blue badge with a silver eagle.

But in a quiet moment he admits that he doesn’t care as much about ranks anymore. He wants to mentor children who will be strong morally and physically. They don’t all need to learn how to build a fire.

“I’m just happy if they come here and we’re able to show them another way of life other than being knee-deep in the city,” Chang says. “I would hate to see this troop go, because that opportunity would go away for a lot of kids.”

Members are walking into the American Legion for tonight’s meeting, but Chang doesn’t rush to intervene. The more experienced scouts have already gotten the younger ones in line. Cosman and Lau, the alumni, are hooking up a propane camp stove in preparation for another backpacking trip.

“The initiative of young boys” in action again.

Peter Hartlaub (he/him) is The San Francisco Chronicle’s culture critic. Email: phartlaub@sfchronicle.com Twitter: @PeterHartlaub

Peter Hartlaub is The San Francisco Chronicle's culture critic and co-founder of Total SF. The Bay Area native, a former Chronicle paperboy, has worked at The Chronicle since 2000. He covers Bay Area culture, co-hosts the Total SF podcast and writes the archive-based Our SF local history column. Hartlaub and columnist Heather Knight co-created the Total SF podcast and event series, engaging with locals to explore and find new ways to celebrate San Francisco and the Bay Area.