We first met in the eighth grade,
In the school year of 1978.

We hit it off fast & boy am I glad,
I was running with some boys who all turned out bad.

We got very close down through the years,
Thinking back now, it brings me to tears.

So many good times, my memory is filled,
My heart nearly stopped the day he got killed.

April 24, 2002; a day of unbelieving,
I'm still so confused.

If you listed his talents, "to help" was on top.
It's probably the main reason he was a cop.

Scott had two loving daughters,
And a wonderful wife.

He was way too young,
To give up his life.

His magazine held eight rounds,
His "target" caught seven.

I thank God for his faith,
Because I know Scott is in heaven.

Many people mourned the day we laid him to rest,
A Comanche Chief placed a feather on his chest.

"The Feather of an Eagle," the Chief said it with grace;
"Given to a Warrior for Bravery," tears ran down his face.

Thousands attended to honor this man,
The church was full; some had to stand.

A horse drawn hearse, bag pipes played,
The folding of the flag could no longer be delayed.

Soft words spoken, from a preacher with care,
A 21-gun salute, we knew they were there.

On a hill with a view, he was laid to rest,
You're more than a friend Scott, you're the Very Best!

by Doug Deweese