Scotty

I read a biblical message every morning. Yesterday the passage entitled,  The Power of Silence. Just sitting, doing nothing and allowing a spiritual “message” or two float into your mind. I had an email exchange yesterday with my nephew Scotty. Someone I see infrequently. Today during my “quiet time” he came to me. Thus this. I’ve known my nephew for most of his fifty plus years here. Remember him as handsome (even as a child.) Blond. Blue eyed. Lanky. Not overly expressive.
The most memorable picture of him I can recall? Sitting in his grandparents triplex on the beach in Ocean City, NJ watching TV. For long periods of time. Always very focused … I think. His grandmother bringing him whatever he wanted to eat while watching what we called then, the “boob tube” In quiet ways he always led his sister, and my two daughters riding bikes, playing stick ball, racing to the surf. He loved his grandfather, Pop. Spent many evenings in bed with him listening to Phillies baseball. Just hangin’ out with Pop and his grandmother too. This youthful activity was hardly defining of what followed. Well maybe a little.

Scotty went on to Amherst College … Columbia School of Journalism … a ridiculously distinguished career as a journalist. Today he is a Senior Writer for the Washington Post. I could spend the rest of this writing, detailing his professional career. But no. Just a few of my thoughts this morning. And please … these are a bit random. I remember a youthful “softness” about him as a kid. Oh competitive for sure. But I think in his own way. I remember him as humble. As is the case with most of the accomplished people I’ve known.

He could anger. Maybe infrequently, but intensely. Could be wrong here. Nancy and I will always marvel that despite an intensely packed schedule our emails to him are always replied to … almost instantly. Reflective of his priorities maybe? I know of some personal challenges he’s dealt with. But if your kids are reflective of how you’ve led your life, Scotty gets an A+. His parents, my sister and brother in law, are not surprisingly uniquely special too.

I’ve always wondered, been flattered by the fact that Scotty has a few times reached out to me for a guiding thought or piece of wisdom that might offer a sliver of value for him

These words come to mind, “What do you think, Bob?” I’d reply with something profound … of course! Then always this. “Bob, as always your words mean so much to me.” Mean so much to me. I’ll always remember these words.This from a correspondent who took assignments in Columbia, Israel for the Post. When we visited him and his family in 2013, he pulled an all nighter to write the next day’s front page story covering the infamous Boston bombing. He’s covered the devastating CA fires. And just yesterday he wrote a piece on the immense Mojave aquifer that might be a partial solution to pending water shortages CA will face. All so well written. So thoroughly reported. And this is incomplete coverage of all Scotty has accomplished. Just a few random things I came up with this morning.

I’ll close with this final thought that raced to mind today. Scotty’s first job (I think) was as a reporter for the local Santa Barbara, CA paper. One day in the mail we got a copy of an article he had written recently. It depicted one of those evenings he spent in bed with his Pop listening to the Phillies on the radio. I can’t recall the details or essence of the piece. I can only remember that young boy. Now adult man who remembered this night and chose to write about it. The event took place decades ago. The emotions I felt then remain. My most distinctive memory of Scotty? For sure. Says so much about my nephew. His priorities. How he’s chosen to pursue his passion and live an extraordinary life.

Oh … and I share with others so proudly … often, “I’m Scott Wilson”s uncle,”