Scott St. John

Scotty was our first child. We named him Phillip Scott, but we all called him Scotty throughout his childhood. His mom and I would often sing a song by Mac Davis, called Watching Scotty Grow, especially when I would come home after being at sea for three months. As we recall, it was “Aunt Wanda” who called him “Scotty Scooter” because, before he could crawl, he would scoot across the floor. Even as a baby he did things with quiet determination. When he was able to speak, he didn’t waste a lot of words or express a lot of emotion, but he was a happy child and everything he did, he did with passion. He did well in school, gave football a try and could have gone far as a baseball player had he chosen to, and he played his trumpet as if he wanted to be a professional musician. We were all proud and excited when he went to New York City with his high school band one Christmas. They played and marched in the Macy’s parade and we saw him on The Today Show for just a moment as they passed across the stage. But he made it known early on that he wanted to be a Naval pilot. Scotty was a wonderful son and great kid in every way. He respected people, including us as his parents, his teachers, elders and authority figures. And he also showed respect for other kids. He never got into any trouble and I know of a few times when he stood up to bullies, protected smaller boys and always watched out for Bobby, his younger brother. He didn’t have to fight and didn’t even have to talk a lot to turn the bullies away. He just had a way about him that brought out the best in people. He fully intended to be a Naval pilot, but he was interested in knowing more about the justice system and that is why he got his degree in Criminal Justice. It was no surprise to us when he took a job as a social worker after he got out of the Navy and before he went to work for Leidos. As an adult, Scott was a wonderful person. He was a stellar student in college, an excellent midshipman in Naval ROTC, a highly respected Naval officer and a competent pilot, a great husband and father and an awesome friend to so many people. We didn’t meet many of his coworkers, but every one we did meet would jump at the opportunity to tell us how much they liked Scott and about how well he performed at everything he did. He was never afraid of taking on a challenge, like buying fixer-upper cars, campers and houses and doing his best to make a nice home for his family. Even in his final days, he talked about his plans to finish remodeling their house in Harrisonburg. We are not nearly as religious as some of our friends and family, but we sincerely believe that life is an eternal process and that Scott has simply moved on to the next level of life in that place we call heaven. So, we will carry on with our lives. We will treasure every day and be thankful for having had Scott in this world for the time that he was with us. And we look forward to the day that we can be reunited with him in heaven. As I told him just minutes before he passed, if he gets there before we do, he will be older and more experienced than me, so he might serve as my father. And if that’s how it works, I said, I hope that I will be as good a son to him as he was to me. We love you, Scotty, and we miss you. Love Mom and Dad.