Bicycle

Scott (right) riding with Lance Armstrong

Every good day doesn’t always include being happy.

My pal Scott, whom I met when I was in first or second grade and him a year behind, had one heck of an accident while biking 10 years ago through the hills surrounding Nashville, Tennessee. Exceptional medical care returned him to his wife Terri and daughters Jayne and Anne. I don’t know all the injuries, but I know that it was months before he was able to return to normal life activities.

For Scott, 100 to 200 miles weekly on a bicycle is routine. He’s raised thousands of dollars for LiveStrong (celebrate the charity, despite your opinions of the founder), local bicycle trails, and other charities. His love for his daughters inspires and his humor is wonderfully wry – I don’t know if I’ve ever met a more genuine person. His wit, kindness and absolute physical fitness remain evident, but never condescending.

In high school, Scott and friends Dave, John, Keith and others decorated 50-foot elm trees in front of our house with 50 – 60 rolls of toilet paper (it was an amazing TP feat!). My parents feigned annoyance but I think they quietly celebrated that I was enough of a target to deserve this as one of those backhanded compliments that help define the teen years. Streams of Charmin decorated those trees until the third or fourth rainstorm that autumn.

During my collegiate freshman year – his senior year of high school – he secured tickets to the Slippery Rock vs. Shippensburg football game held at the University of Michigan’s football stadium (Slippery Rock was an adoptive fan favorite of Michigan Fans for years) and invited me to join the group and drove from Monroe to Hillsdale to Ann Arbor and reversed the trip to assure my attendance.

Scott, Dave, John, Keith and I were together today and were joined by Terri, Jayne, Anne and Scott’s siblings Amy and Matt – along with Scott’s mother, many in-laws, nieces, nephews, co-workers, and friends. Today was Scott’s funeral. This past Saturday, he was out riding and fell to a massive heart attack while on his bike. He was 52 and, as I mentioned, the picture of physical fitness. This should not have happened. No. Not possible. But, it did.

A reunion

I mention that today was a good day – well, a good day with tears (and that’s OK). The church was full and reunions 30 years overdue happened throughout the day. Dave, John, Keith and I rode together from the church to the cemetery and participated in the final burial rites. A raw mix of wind and rain stung but we all took turns leaving a thumbprint on the casket (at the urging of the presiding deacon).

On the ride back, the four of us had a mini “Big Chill” conversation with collegial openness and respect. We caught up, but most importantly came to the conclusion that while Scott would have whole-heartedly approved and laughed had we wrapped the coffin with toilet paper, there would have been no way to explain it to anyone else.