John Carey
I met Scott thru my younger brother in the 80s, and we got a little closer when I moved to Columbus and found him working at Shells Seafood Resturant in the late 90s. In the early 2000s, I guess life kind of happened to both of us, and we fell out of touch with each other. I’ll always remember Scott one way, with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other, with that gigantic smile he had. I never heard him complain about the Crohns, not once. He just kept putting his head down and moving forward, showing nothing short of monumental courage. I remember being up late with Scott one night (maybe a few beers were also present), and he was telling me, almost “matter-of factly”, about what Crohn’s does to a person’s body. I remember him saying “I know this disease might cut things short, but I want to live each day to the fullest, and make sure the people that I love, are happy”. I also remember him telling me that his Mom was his rock, that he always knew he could depend on her, and that he loved her more than anything. I remember thinking, “this guy has a disease that may ultimately cut his life short, and his main concern is about the people in his life being happy”. That’s called selflessness, and Scott had a boat load of it! If I could have one wish for Scott, it would be that when the end came, one second he was standing in a stream, fishing with the sun on his face, and the next second....he was standing in a stream, fishing with the sun on his face. Just a different stream. My deepest condolences to his Mom & Dad, all those he loved.