My first impression of Scott was on my 16th birthday when a bunch of us decided to go to Skate West. Remember that place?
Imagine that: Scott with wheels on his feet. This wall of a guy barreled toward me full speed, yelling HAPPY BIRTHDAY, projecting so much energy that all I could do was grip tightly onto the side wall.
Somehow I ended up his ride home. My car wasn’t big enough to contain that much energy. He opened the glove box, poked around, closed it. Opened the middle console, poked around, closed it. Checked other nooks and crannies, in this sort of happy bouncy curiosity. And then, while the car was still in motion on the road to his house, he threw it from “drive” into “park.” My car obeyed, coming to a sudden stop but not without sounds that made me wonder if it would ever start again. I held onto the steering wheel, breathing, disbelieving… and then turned to Scott to say in a low tone, “do – not – ever – do – that – again.”
That big guy suddenly became very small. “Okay” he said, which came across more as an “eep!”
And we became good friends after that.
We had many adventures. Traveling down the highway with Scott headbanging in the passenger seat always drew attention, and sometimes made staying in the lane a challenge (especially when Bohemian Rhapsody came on). Just so long he didn’t touch the gearshift, all was good.
Scott embodied music. Did you know that Scott enjoyed classical music? When 88.1 would go off the air, he shifted the dial to classics, from Metallica to Mozart. He loved a wide range of genres.
Scott was brilliant. When working on my undergrad degree, I would come over with stacks of research articles to read through. Scott would grab a highlighter and note important information in articles, and we would discuss a wide range of topics – especially in social sciences and world events.
Scott was surrounded by magic. We would play this game where I would think of shapes – simple ones such as a heart or diamond – and he would then tell me what I was seeing. This created a connection that came up at interesting times. For example, I felt a sudden burst of emotion from him and called him on the phone to ask what was wrong. “Oh Tam,” he said, sadly. Then he told me he just learned that his mom was diagnosed with cancer.
I moved away for many years. After returning, my daughters’ first impression of Scott was this bear of a guy lifting me up in the middle of the mall and swinging me around. He was in typical heavy metal gear and I was in a business suit, which made it more funny. He also accidentally scared a little kid in Hot Topic, and the more he tried to put the kid at ease, the worse it was. Scott loved kids and animals.
When catching up, I admit to feeling concern upon learning about the pyrotechnics he was working with. The idea of Scott plus explosives seemed especially dangerous, but if anyone could understand fireworks – especially paired with music — it would be Scott.
Scott was the type of friend who showed up on moving day. Literally. He took a bus all the way from Kennewick to Benton City to help Heather and me load a little moving truck and start a new chapter in our life. When he stepped off the bus in the distance, I knew it was him because of the Tigger bounce in his step. He kept our spirits up with his smile and bounce, quickly loaded the truck, renamed our bird “Charlotte” because she liked him (I still don’t get the logic there, but okay), and helped us unload in the new place.
Scott was there. For many of us, he was there.
Because Scott was love. He loved and was loved by many.
I had been thinking of him last week, trying and failing to get in touch with my old friend. When Eileen created the Tribute group and said to add people, the first person I added was Scott. I was relieved to maybe have a gathering coming up where I could reach him. I didn’t know…. I didn’t know that the tribute group was made because Scott was now gone. That he had chosen to leave this life added to the shock and pain.
I’m still processing, in a very messy way, all these emotions.
I grew up feeling like I had been dropped off by aliens. I was “other” — an anthropologist in the place I was born into. How perfect was it that one of my dearest friends growing up would be nicknamed ALF – Alien LifeForm. I am sad by the loss, but I am so grateful that he was in my life.
Deep Peace to You
Deep peace of the running wave to you.
Deep peace of the flowing air to you.
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
Deep peace of the shining stars to you.
Deep peace of the infinite peace to you.
Pictures of Scott
Courtesy of Cin Johnson