Nicolas N. Scott Eulogy

Eric Scott delivered this Eulogy at Nick Scott's memorial service. He graciously gave me permission to post it to my blog. Whether you knew Nick or not, Eric's eulogy is powerful and really made me think about the way I view people. Please take a few moments and read his words.

Eulogy for Nicolas N. Scott
by Eric Scott
Ph.D student in Computer Science
George Mason University

The last few years of Nick’s life were hard. Certainly harder than anything I've been through. There is no way to sugar coat it: as a homeless man in Oklahoma City, Nick suffered a lot. At Nick’s age, he should have been looking forward to an open-ended vista of possibilities. The American Dream, with all its hopes and promises, should have been tantalizing him with its optimism. And on his good days, Nick did dream of future success the way a young person should. He dreamt of getting his G.E.D. and going back to school, of making enough money to pay back everyone he had ever hurt, and of becoming a lawyer and helping people in situations like his.

But most days, Nicolas was trapped in a sense of futility. Robert Frost described an old man in a similar position in one of his poems, “The Death of the Hired Man.” Young as he was, it could easily have been Nick, Nick who lived as an illegal immigrant in his own country, barely eking out a living as a hired hand. Frost writes of him:

So concerned for other folk,
And nothing to look backward to with pride,
And nothing to look forward to with hope,
So now and never any different.

If there’s one thing that I've consistently heard from Nick’s friends and acquaintances over the years, it was that he was truly concerned for other folk. Nick did many things that he regretted, some things as innocent as stealing food to survive, and some things less easy to forgive. I don’t know what it’s like to be locked in the cycle of hopelessness that so many people living in poverty experience from day to day. I’m told that money loses value when there is never enough of it. There is a certain logic to irresponsibility in situations where human flourishing is rare and precious.

But people never lost value for Nick. Nick was a passionate believer in compassion and empathy. Nick stood in judgment over himself for his failures to do justice to people and their experiences. And he stood in judgment over me, over society and criminal justice, and over the church. The one person I never heard him criticize was his late mother, Tilly Scott, who for Nick embodied a complete and unconditional regard for the well-being of her son.

Nick went back and forth on his religious beliefs. Life on the street doesn't afford much luxury for debating academic arguments about God and theology. He didn't know what he believed, but he read his Bible regularly, and Nick seemed to genuinely feel that Christ was often more present in the homeless shelters and jail cells of Oklahoma City than in its churches. He tried many times to explain to me his belief that there is good in everyone, a source of dignity even in what most of us would consider broken and violent souls. Nick knew convicted murderers that he believed were among the most profound representatives of Christ-like compassion that you could find.

A few weeks ago the minister at my church in Virginia delivered a message on forgiveness, and challenged everyone in our congregation to forgive one person that week, and to ask forgiveness from someone. Things were tense between Nick and I at the time. He’d told some fibs while trying to get my family to help him with rent money, and I was feeling pretty stern. It was a busy week for me, and I procrastinated on my homework, but finally I told Nick that I forgave him, and that supporting him was what was most important to us. He died that evening.

Because of my minister’s challenge, I have the comfort of knowing that Nick’s last words to me were of gratitude. That week, his family had chosen to love him unconditionally. He told me that it meant a lot, and that he would try to do better toward us.

But what I failed to do, and what I wish I could do now, is ask Nick’s forgiveness. Not just for the times I wasn't there to help him. I want Nick’s forgiveness for being slow to learn how to see the dignity in every human being. It is always far easier to judge the homeless than to help them, even with family. On Nick’s behalf, I challenge all of us, myself included, to see the Christ in those in need. We have to go beyond feeling sorry for others, and build relationships that allow us to truly understand them. Nick is no longer here for us to learn to love, but his belief in love is something we can carry on now that he is gone.

Nick Scott Memorial

Today my wife and I along with my parents drove to Oklahoma City to attend Nick Scott's memorial service.  I was asked to read the obituary. I was honored to be able to do so.

Nicolas Neal Scott (born Nicolas Aweyo), aged 23, of Oklahoma City died October 1, 2014 in Oklahoma City of homicide.

He was born June 23, 1991 near Homa Bay, Kenya. His mother died in childbirth and he was adopted by Neal and Tillie Scott two weeks later. His early childhood was spent in Morogoro, Tanzania where his parents were missionaries. Then the family returned to the United States, residing in Texas, Tennessee, and New Mexico before settling near Hodgen, Oklahoma'

Nick was home schooled for his first 6 years and then completed seventh and eighth grades in Hodgen, Oklahoma. He attended high school in Heavener, Oklahoma and was active in football and basketball. After high school he worked at a series of odd jobs but ran into difficulties when his citizenship papers were misplaced. Repeated attempts at replacing them were lost in red tape and his frequent moves.

He spent most of his adult life in Oklahoma but was homeless for the last several years. Basketball remained a passion throughout his life. Nick was a quiet young man until you got to know him well. Then a sense of humor and deep compassion came through that endeared him to his friends.

I first met Nick as an eight year old boy named Nicky. He was a quiet boy who couldn't sit still. Over the next few years I got to know him in my Sabbath School Class and in Pathfinders. By the time he was twelve he was almost as tall as I was.

Nick loved Pathfinder camping trips. We always knew to take extra food when Nick was along, especially an extra container of sour cream.

Nick was scheduled to go to the Faith on Fire Camporee in Oshkosh, Wisconsin. Over 33,000 Pathfinders from over 100 countries attended. Shortly before the Camporee he injured his foot and was afraid that he would miss out, but he was able to go with a special boot. He had a great time at the Camporee and never complained even though we had to do lots of walking, (our campsite was almost a mile from the main events hangars), on his sore foot. I'm very glad that he was able to be a part of the Faith on Fire Camporee.

Nick is survived by his father, Neal Scott and wife, Lucy of Harrah, Oklahoma, two brothers, Steve and wife Vivian of Illinois and Tom and wife Jo Ann of Wisconsin, a sister, Marci, of California, and nieces and nephews. His mother, Tillie, preceded him in death in 2011.

Will and Woody

W is for Will and Woody.  Will Rogers and Woody Guthrie.  The state of Oklahoma links them together.  I once heard it said that Will Rogers is the most famous Oklahoman in the whole country and Woody Guthrie is the most famous Oklahoman in the whole wide world.

Woody Guthrie was born on July 14, 1912 in the town of Okemah, Oklahoma.  Woody said of Okemah, "It was one of the singingest, square dancingest, drinkingest, yellingest, preachingest, walkingest, talkingest, laughingest, cryingest, shootingest, fist fightingest, bleedingest, gamblingest, gun, club and razor carryingest of our ranch towns and farm towns, because it blossomed out into one of our first Oil Boom Towns."

Okemah is a small town just off Interstate 40, about 70 miles east of Oklahoma City where I-40 splits off from Route 66.  Route 66 is also known as the Will Rogers Highway.

Woody wrote a song about Will Rogers titled Will Rogers Highway.  In the song Woody takes Will to task.

"My Sixty-Six highway, this Will Rogers road,
It's lined with jalopies just as far as I can see;
Can you think up a joke, Will, for all o'these folks
From New Yorker town down to Lost Angeles?

Ten thousand lost families I count every day
Caught under my bridges and under my trees;
Can you make up a joke that'll win them a job
From New Yorker town down to Lost Angeles?

I love Willy Rogers, I love your big smile,
I go to my showhouse, Will Rogers to see;
Can you grin up a tale that'll feed my folks stranded
'Twist New Yorker town and Lost Angeles"?

Will Rogers was born in Indian Territory, near present-day Oologah, Oklahoma. His parents were both of part Cherokee ancestry.  His father was a leader within Cherokee society. A Cherokee judge, he was a Confederate veteran and served as a delegate to the Oklahoma Constitutional Convention.

Will made a name for himself in vaudeville, then started making movies. He became one of the best known movie stars of his time. He was not only a movie star, but also he also wrote a newspaper column and was a radio personality.  At the time of his death in 1935 he was as popular as anyone on the country.

Woody on the other hand like so many other "Okies" hit the road trying to find a way to support his family.  He hitchhiked, rode the rails and walked all the way to California.  In exchange for bed and board, Woody painted signs and played guitar and sang in saloons along the way.

In Los Angeles Woody landed a job on radio, singing traditional songs as well as some original songs.  Woody began to attract widespread public attention, particularly from the thousands of relocated Okies gathered in migrant camps.  The local radio airwaves also provided Woody a forum for his controversial social commentary and criticism.

Woody strongly identified with his audience. Songs such as "I Ain't Got No Home", "Goin' Down the Road Feelin' Bad", "Talking Dust Bowl Blues", "Tom Joad" and "Hard Travelin'"; all reflected his desire to give voice to the migrants.

Woody died in 1967 from Huntington's Disease.  His music is his legacy.  Because of his politics and his anti social behavior caused by his Huntington's Disease, Woody was and still is a polarizing figure.

Songwriter Bryan Hembree wrote a song titled Will and Woody that is included on 3 Penny Acre's album, Rag and Bone.  He grew up in Oklahoma and was very familiar with both of them.  In talking about his song he said, "Like most young boys in Oklahoma, I couldn't figure out why all of the old folks loved Will Rogers and hated Woody Guthrie.  I just didn't understand because I loved them both equally".

Bryan and his wife Bernice are currently performing as Smokey & the Mirror. Last Sunday night I attended a Smokey & the Mirror concert and one of the songs they performed was Will and Woody.  You can see the performance here.




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Question of Balance

One of my favorite albums from my youth is the Moody Blues album, A Question of Balance, released in 1970. Though it was their fifth album, it was the first time that The Moody Blues used political strife as a basis for songwriting. The song "Question", dealt with the controversy resulting from the ongoing Vietnam War. The album reached #1 in the UK and #3 in the U.S.



A couple of years ago I was able to attend a Moody Blues concert at the Brady Theater in Tulsa, Oklahoma. I was fortunate to be able to get seats in the third row. Being that close to the stage made for great photo opportunities.





The Moodies put on a great show. I thoroughly enjoyed the concert. The band payed songs from every phase of their career, from the 60's through the 90's. One of my favorite lines was from Graeme Edge when he was talking about having turned 70. He said, "the great thing about turning 70 is that I've lived through the 60's twice".



The song "Question" was a real crowd favorite, and everyone seemed to know the words.

Why do we never get an answer
When we're knocking at the door?
With a thousand million questions
About hate and death and war.

Cause when we stop and look around us
There is nothing that we need.
In a world of persecution
That is burning in it's greed.

Why do we never get an answer
When we're knocking at the door?
Because the truth is hard to swallow
That's what the war of love is for.









If I ever have another chance to see the Moody Blues in concert I will definitely go again. It was the most fun I have ever had at a concert.




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Dress Barn

One of my wife's favorite places to shop is Dress Barn.  The first Dress Barn was opened in 1962 in Stamford, Connecticut.  There are now over 800 locations in the U.S.

We live in a small town in rural Arkansas with limited shopping opportunities.  When we do go shopping we make a day of it and travel to either Fort Smith or Hot Springs which are both over 80 miles away.  When we make these shopping trips my wife likes to stop at Dress Barn.  I enjoy not going in to the store and instead like to sit in the car in the parking lot.

One day while I was sitting in the parking lot, I took a photo of the Dress Barn Store and posted it to Facebook and said, I'm at my favorite place - The Dress Barn Parking Lot.  I received many likes and comments.  It became expected for me to comment on my favorite thing.  Comments such as, "who needs the NFL playoff games when you have the Dress Barn parking lot" and "no place I would rather be than the Dress Barn parking lot.

Last fall we attended our 40th high school reunion.  While we were visiting with old friends, they insisted that we go to the Dress Barn and take photos.  We really didn't have time but we did it.

When we are travelling I make sure to stop by any Dress Barns that we come across.  This year I have been to Dress Barn parking lots in Arkansas, Oklahoma, Texas, Louisiana, Colorado and Oregon.  My dear wife puts up with my little obsession even though many of the Dress Barns we have stopped at she hasn't even been inside.  During a recent visit to Oregon I stopped at three Dress Barns but she didn't shop at any of them.

While in Oregon we stayed at Glenedon Beach near Lincoln City.  I had several Facebook friends point out that there was a Dress Barn in Lincoln City.  I posted a beautiful sunrise photo and got the comment, "What, no Dress Barn in the proximity?!?!"

How many Dress Barn parking lots will I eventually visit?  I don't know. With over 800 locations I will be kept busy for a long time.

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Y I Blog

Y is for Y I blog.  I know that it is cheating a bit, but the end of the alphabet gets pretty difficult.  When I ran across this cartoon, it made me think about why I blog. It is certainly not for the money. In a way blogging is kind of like a diary or journal. I guess that it feels good to leave some kind of mark; some way for people to actually know you exist and have done something. Maybe it's because my memory is so poor that I feel that blogging can help my memory.

I know that I am not blogging for the money, but the benefits have been many. I have met, if you can call typing on the computer meeting, many wonderful people. With all of the ugliness we see and hear about in the world, it is nice to get to know interesting people from all parts of the world.  I like getting a personal perspective that hasn't been filtered through the media.

After 5 years, over 440 posts, and over 200,000 unique visitors from over 190 different countries,  sometimes I'm still not sure why I blog. I guess that the answer in it's simplest form is, "because I'm addicted". The next question would be, "how did I get addicted?" In 2008, my friend Laurel was visiting in our home.  She showed me her daughter's blog. Because she lived so far away from her daughter, she kept up with her through the blog. I had heard the word "blog", but really had no idea what it was all about.

As I was reading the blog, I noticed at the top of the page that it had a link that said create blog. I had to see what it was all about, so I clicked it. In a few days I had my own blog, and I enjoyed writing and posting pictures to it. I had written a little before starting the blog, but definitely not regularly. I had occasionally written a column for the religion page of the local newspaper and I had posted a few articles on the writing website Helium, but I had never had a "reason" to write before.

Now, whenever an interesting idea pops into my head, My first thought is,"that would make a good blog post".  I enjoy the process of taking a thought and turning it into a post.

I have had some people ask me about the name of my blog.  I have to admit that very little thought went into it. As I was looking at the "create blog" page in Blogger, just trying to figure out what it was all about, one of the first things that had to be filled in was the title. I spent about thirty seconds thinking, and typed An Arkies Musings. Arkie is slang word for someone who lives in Arkansas.

We used to be officially called Arkansawyers, but now the term is Arkansan. During the Great Depression of the 1930's, Arkansas and Oklahoma were some of the hardest hit states. Many people moved to California trying to get jobs. The terms Arkie and Okie were disparaging terms used by the Californians for people from Oklahoma and Arkansas. Now the term Arkie is most often used to describe a native Arkansan and is often still a bit disparaging. It seems to indicate that someone is unlearned and backward.

I have lived here for over 30 years. Though I'm not a native, I am proud to be an Arkansan or even an Arkie. You have to admit that An Arkansan's Musings just doesn't roll off the tongue.

What I enjoy the most about blogging is the people that I have met, around the world and close to home. It helps me have a greater understanding of the world as a whole. Most of us associate with and are friends with people who are very similar to ourselves. Blogging has broadened my horizons and really made me think.  I had never experienced internet friendships before, but reading and commenting on people's blogs does help you get to know them. I am a very curious person by nature and reading people's blogs, especially those from other countries and cultures, has helped satisfy my curiosity and taught me so much.

Why do I blog?  After five years it has just become part of me.  It's who I am:  I am a blogger.  While I sit at the computer typing, my wife will say, "blog, blog, blog".  Rene Descartes said, "I think; therefore I am".  I say, "I blog; therefore I am".  That's why I blog.

The ABC Wednesday Meme is a fun way to see some great blogs.

Oklahoma National Memorial

This evening we visited the Oklahoma National Memorial in Oklahoma City. The memorial honors the 168 victims of the 1995 bombing of the Murrah building.  It was a very moving experience. 

Tornado

On May 20, 2013 a devastating tornado ripped through Moore, Oklahoma. Authorities say 24 people, including eight children, perished in the twister.  The storm hit on the second consecutive day of tornadoes in Oklahoma, packing peak winds of 200 mph.  The tornado spent 40 minutes traveling 17 miles on the ground and devastated an estimated 30 square miles that included neighborhoods and two elementary schools.  Emergency workers have pulled more than 100 survivors from the debris of homes, schools and a hospital.

Below you can see the path the tornado took.



In these aerial photos you can see the Plaza Towers Elementary School in Moore, Okla., before and after it was hit by the massive tornado. Seven second- and third-graders from this school were among the 24 killed in the tornado.

A friend is in Moore, Oklahoma right now giving out meals to the victims and also the volunteers.  Here are a few photos that she has taken.

The devastating tornado of May 20, as bad as it was, is not the worst tornado to hit Moore.  On May 3, 1999 Moore was hit with an extremely powerful F5 tornado in which the highest wind speeds ever measured, 302 miles per hour, were recorded by a Doppler on Wheels radar. Throughout its one hour and 25 minute existence, the tornado covered 38 miles, destroying thousands of homes, killing 41 people and leaving $1 billion in losses behind.

Tornadoes cause tremendous amounts of damage.  I know this all too well because on April 9, 2009 a tornado hit my town of Mena, Arkansas.  Fortunately for us neither our home or our business were damaged, but over 600 homes were damaged when a F3 Tornado, with 136-165 mph winds, hit Mena devastating a 25 block area. 100 homes were totally destroyed and over 600 damaged.  3 people lost their lives in the storm.  Here are some photos that I took two days after the tornado.





































Here is what I wrote about the tornado two weeks after the storm.

It has been over two weeks since my town of Mena was severely damaged by an F3/F4 tornado. I have not been to the damaged side of town for two weeks. Because I install auto glass I have been busier than I have ever been in my life. I am trying to get as many vehicles usable for people as I possibly can. The destruction of homes, cars and property is beyond my ability to describe. I have been getting up at 5:30 A.M. to go to work, and working until after 10:00 P.M. I come home, take a shower and crawl into bed and the next thing I know the alarm is going off.

I have never been so thankful for a Sabbath day as I was this week. God knew what he was doing when he created the Sabbath day and told men to rest from their labors on the Sabbath. Today has been wonderfully refreshing for me physically and spiritually. I had the first good nights sleep I have had in a while, and was so blessed by our Sabbath School class and Pastor Dan's sermon.



This afternoon we drove into the damaged part of town and took some photos. The sights were very depressing as I thought of how many people in my small town have been affected by this disaster. Officials estimate that over 600 homes have been damaged. As I surveyed the damage today I feel that the estimates are probably low. With the amount of homes damaged I'm sure that 2,000 people or more were affected by the storm. The population of Mena is between 5 and 6 thousand, so nearly half of the population are dealing with the aftermath of the storm.



This photo really brought to my thoughts what people are having to deal with. Many of the damaged homes are still being occupied because the people have no place to go. As I was taking photos from the street this little girl was walking into her house. Earlier we had seen a young girl standing in the doorway of her damaged home looking out into the street with a forlorn look on her face. You can multiply her feelings by a thousand.



What is amazing in a disaster like this one is the extraordinary amount of work it is to clean up. These pictures were taken 16 days after the tornado, and there have been so many people working so hard with the clean up, and it still looks like this. Our tour of the town today left us feeling depressed and overwhelmed.



As we drove through town we passed the Salvation Army location. The Salvation Army does so much for the people of this town, but their building was damaged and is unusable. Even though their building isn't usable, they have been helping here in town along with so many other churches and agencies. The volunteers come from many different churches and organizations. The help and support have been utterly amazing. I came across this thank you note written on a house that says it all.



My thoughts and prayers are with those affected by the Oklahoma tornadoes this year.


The ABC Wednesday Meme is a fun way to see some great blogs.