Scott was my brother from another mother. From nine years old on, he was the brother I never had. His first visit to my house was when we were both barely nine, and he came over to watch some Saturday morning sci-fi kid's show, so we hit it off immediately. Grade school, middle school, high school, first run at college, military (different services), and on through the rest of life. We rode everywhere you could get to in Morton Grove on our bicycles, and if I wasn't home, usually I was at Scott's house. Faye was my second Mom, and I think I ate at his house almost as often as at my own. Likewise, for Scott at our house. He was the best man at my wedding, and I was the same at his. After years of living on different parts of the planet, for my last active duty Navy tour, my family wound up being stationed in Newport, RI, where Scott and Monica had moved some years earlier when he took the job at US Sailing. While we were there, Scott helped with a middle school project for my son, Chris, who needed to make a diorama related to ancient times. My son wanted to make a ship model based on ancient Greece, and Scott used his superb, and well-honed, naval architect skills to blow up a drawing of a Greek Trireme that Chris found in Scientific American. From that small drawing, Scott made actual plans for a balsa model, much as pre-industrial shipbuilders worked from drawings to models to real ships. We left out the real ship part though.... Scott was at that time actively involved in flying radio controlled aircraft models, so making a ship model was a little different, and he eagerly dove in. My son and I spent several weeks in Scott's basement workshop, the three of us building a marvelous two-foot long model with nearly a hundred oars, masts, shields, decking, planking...everything. Not quite museum quality, but almost. A pretty amazing model. We mounted it on a styrofoam base painted to look like the sea, so it qualified as a diorama. When my son and I took the model into the classroom the morning it was due, the teacher's eyes opened quite wide. He looked at me, looked at my son, looked at the Trireme, looked at me again, looked at my son again, looked at the Trireme again, and said "OK, I get it. Now get that thing out of here before it gets wrecked." So, home it went with us, and my son got an A+ on the project. That ship model sits in a place of great honor in my study, typical of the intelligence, workmanship and passion that Scott put into the things he loved doing. I have been keeping it for my son until he finds the right place of honor for it in his home, but now that it is the remaining tangible representation of Scott's place in my life, I think I'm hanging on to it for awhile longer. I should stop now before I short out the keyboard. They don't handle water very well.