Scott Daniel Pederson

There are two times in my life where time seemed to just stop or slow down. One was one of the best, the birth of my son Michael. It seemed surreal, holding him in my arms and taking him to get weighed the first time.

The other was hearing when my brother Scott passed away. I was driving home to my house in Tempe, AZ from my brother Jason’s place. He called and told me I had to come back right away. I asked what was wrong but he would not tell me. He just said I needed to come back. I opened the door and there Jason stood crying. He told me that Scott had died. Shock and dread hit me all at once. I think I remember stammering out “How?” He told me that Scott and his family were at the lake. He and his two sons had gotten into a pedal boat. The two boys jumped out in the water, but it was so cold. This lake was being fed from the mountain snow so the temperature was freezing. Scott jumped in to help his two kids back into the paddle boat. When he jumped in, the boat started floating away. He had to save his kids. From what I gathered, when he tried to go back to the boat, it would just get farther, so he held his two kids until someone could come get them. It was a bit before they could get out there. They brought the two boys into the boat and when they reached for Scott, he was not there. I still get emotional thinking about it. Even while typing this, tears come to my eyes.

As Jason told me this, I started to cry. I could not believe it. I had just talked to him in the last few days. Jason started looking at pictures of Scott but I could not handle it. I went home and laid in bed. The next day, I tried to go to work. My manager had his one on one with me and during the meeting, I started crying again. He asked me what was wrong. I told him that my brother had passed away last night. We ended the meeting and he sent me home. Jason and I went to Saint George for Scott’s funeral. I remember going down to see the body. The funeral director asked if we wanted to dress him. Jason and Paul did not want to, but I felt that a family member should do it. His body seemed like a wax statue of him. He had the same crewcut I remembered and the pockmarks on his face were still there but the impish smile was gone. The mischievous sparkle in his eyes were no longer there. I put on his shirt and his socks. I proceeded to put his tie around his neck. When I went to cinch the knot, I left it a little down. The director said I needed to bring it up higher and I told him I did not want to hurt him. I started weeping then. Looking at him and realizing I could not possibly hurt him. The director said that was good. I went back upstairs to join my family.

Scott’s funeral was nice. We laid him to rest in the memorial cemetery in Saint George. I started to have nightmares. I was in the boat and would reach for Scott in the water but would watch him sink beneath the surface. I would watch as he went down to the bottom. This has been a recurring nightmare and had it again last night.

I have been having this feeling that I need to put down some of my memories of Scott. I am getting older and don’t really want to forget some of them. Right now his memories are precious to me and want to hold on to them as long as I can.

Scott Daniel Pederson was born on October 27 1977. It was in Bessemer AL. I remember mom bringing him home in the small apartment we lived in. He was number six. The main thing I remember that year was that, it was the same year Star Wars came out. People would joke and ask why did they not name him Luke? My name is Matthew, my brothers middle name was Mark and everyone called him that. We just needed a Luke and a John. My dad said he hated the name Luke, so that was that. I don’t really remember him too much when he was a baby. Not until we moved to Palatka did his personality really started to come out.

We moved to Palatka and more specifically with my grandparents. My Dad was looking for a job, so we moved in with them until he could find one. Scott was around three when he got very sick, he started to have hallucinations that dump trucks and monsters were coming at him. I remember thinking dump trucks? Who’s afraid of a dump truck? I guess when you are little, they can seem pretty terrifying. My mom put him in a cool bath, to try and bring his fever down. It must have worked, because he stopped yelling and screaming. This kid was always smiling and laughing. My grandpa Deloach stuck him with the nickname “Good Time Charlie”. He would say that kid always has a smile on his face. One time when Scott was in a bad mood, Grandpa started singing, “Good Time Charlie’s got the blues.”  Which promptly turned that frown upside down.

Scott had the whitest hair growing up. It remained pretty white until he got older. He would tag around with Jason and I asking if he could play with us. Jason and I would play superheroes and other imaginary games. Scott would always ask if he could play. Most of the time we would say no.

We moved to Saint Augustine and Scott really started to come out. He was very outgoing and never lacked for friends. I do remember one time where he got sick and could not control his bowels while he slept. We woke up to the most horrid smell. It was all over his bed.

I had also watched Karate Kid during this time and wanted to see if the famous kick would actually work. Scott volunteered to see if it would. He stood by the wall in the bedroom and I proceeded to try. Unfortunately, it worked a little too well. My foot hit his chin, his head hit the wall and the picture right above him came down on top of him. Blood started oozing out of his head. I got in big trouble but all I could think of was that it worked!!

My brothers and I would go down to Crookshank school and play. One time, Scott and I found an adult magazine that was on the table. We decided to sneak it home and take a peek. We got in the bedroom and made sure the door was closed. Once we were assured that no one could see us, we opened up the treasure trove. We quickly realized this was a Playgirl magazine!! It had a bunch of naked men!! We were disgusted and went down to the ditch by our house and threw it in the water. We did not want to see that again.

Scott looked like a popular singer at the time, Billy Idol. He would get his hair wet and think spike it up to try and emulate the singer. One thing about him is that he was always willing to go along with whatever hare-brained scheme I had. Jason would sometimes back out, when his common sense would kick in. Luckily for experience level, Scott and my common sense were nowhere to be found!!

Scott would always borrow my clothes, if you see pictures of him in his younger years, it was usually with one of my shirts on him.

Scott and I bonded a lot closer when I came back from my mission. I was twenty-one and he was 14. One of my favorite bands at the time was Depeche Mode. I loved Martin Gore and cut my hair like his. Scott wanted the same haircut. We went in the bathroom and I proceeded to cut his hair. Remember what I said about common sense earlier? He loved his new haircut or at least he told me he did. My dad was not very happy but at least Scott liked it.

Scott and I would go out by the huge oak tree in the backyard and talk about life. To this day those conversations are very important to me.

One memory that I love and shared at his funeral, was that Scott was willing to do anything. He comes out of the shower with just his towel and says to Jason and I. “You dare me to run out in the road with just my towel, wave it around and run back in?” Sure we exclaimed. He runs out and we proceed to lock all the doors and windows. He tries to run back in but to no avail. He starts knocking on the door and we open it up a crack and grab his towel, then quickly shut the door again. He is now running around the house with no clothes on, trying to find an open window or door. Once again, we got in trouble but it was worth it.

Once I got married, unfortunately I started to drift away. Listening to bad advice and lies, I was not close with my family. Scott refused to let the separation happen and would try and keep calling me. He would leave voicemails for me to call him back. Once I got divorced, it was game on again!

He was married with two handsome boys. He had been in the Army and Norway on his mission. I got to see him in the Dixie play, “The Crucible” He was so good. This was something we had in common. I wanted to be a playwright and he had wanted to be an actor. Instead, I joined the Air Force and he joined the Army.

We both loved the same books and movies. I would talk to him about plays and he said he would love to act in one of mine. That was our little daydream.

My last time seeing him alive was when we went on a trip to Vegas with Jason. Scott and I decided to drive up together. I am so glad we did. We talked the whole time. He strived to be a good father but he did not think he was the best husband sometimes. Being newly divorced, I tried to share some of my lessons I had learned. He said that he says things to his wife that he wished he could take back. Its so hard though once they come out to bottle them back in.

The next morning, I got up with him as he was leaving. I hugged him and wished him a safe trip. That was the last time I saw him. I talked to him a couple of times after that on the phone.

Scott was and is one my best friends. Not only a brother, but someone I could rely on. I miss him all the time. There has been a hole in my life since he left which can never be filled. I love you brother forever and for always.

Sports and Family

So I really wanted to write about my brother Scott. I have been having recurring dreams about him and started thinking it might help me sleep to put it down on paper so to speak but just can’t do it at this time. Instead I am watching the baseball game and thoughts of my father come to mind. I thought  I would try and post some thoughts on him.
I don’t remember my dad being happy very much. It always seemed he was depressed or caught up in some other thoughts.  Usually when I saw him happy was during sporting events.
One of my first memories was watching the Dodgers with him; the Dodgers were in the World Series and Kirk Gibson had just hit the HR to win the game. He was so excited and yelling. I could not remember him being so happy. I remember being happy with him and rooting for the Dodgers. That year I read as much as I could about about the Dodgers so I could talk to my father about baseball. We talked about Orel Herhisier and his great pitching,  I fell in love baseball then just something I could talk to my father about.
We never really clicked again after that. He liked the Celtics and I liked the Lakers. He loved Danny Ainge but I remember watching the first game with Magic Johnson and could not like anyone else.
He was also a big BYU fan but during high school I started liking the Florida Gators.
It was hard for us to talk to each other. I did not have much respect for him and I don’t think he respected me.
During my adulthood we went years with only saying a couple of words to each other, the more I went through raising my own child, I would see his faults on when raising me.
It changed when he got sick, I was still angry with him but decided to try and make peace with him. He could barely talk at least not legible. I decided to have fun with him and went for Utah the hated rival of BYU. Every time I came to visit him, I tried to have something from the University of Utah on. We would laugh and talk about how the different football programs was doing.
I am so thankful I was there his last six months. It helped me to forgive him and get over my anger. The last night he was lucid and awake, he said my name “Matthew, I love you.”  Even now just thinking about it makes me emotional. I was there the next morning and heard his last breathes. At that moment, I laid him and my anger to rest.
I think that’s the reason I love baseball so much. It brings me back to Kirk Gibson hitting the HR and my dad cheering.
Love you David Ralph Pederson and hope you have found peace at last.

Fiddler on the Roof

I grew up on a lot of musicals. My mother loved musicals and since we only had one TV in the house, you either watched what was on or did something else. Most of the time I did not mind them except "The Sound of Music". That was my sisters favorite musical and they played it over and over. I still cannot watch that movie.
When I was around 14, I watched the musical "Fiddler on the Roof". I immediately fell in love.
What is strange is at that time, I had a love affair with the Nazi Party. I liked the flag, the uniforms and the image of Adolf Hitler. I tried to read Mein Kampf. My mother tried to get me to change but I wanted nothing to do with it. I heard they killed six million Jews, but at the time it was just a number. Nameless numbers on nameless faces.
At the heyday of my Nazi love affair, I sat down to watch Fiddler on the Roof. I fell in love with the music, the traditions and mostly Tevye. During the course of the musical, you see the oppression forced on Tevye and his family. Even though it was not the Nazi party that was the protagonist, you still feel the story of how some people are better than others.
Over the course of that following week, I dumped the Nazi party and wanted to become a Jew. I wanted to participate in the dancing and singing. Naively, I figured that even though these people were oppressed, they still had time to sing and dance. One member of the church that I was going to told me when she heard of my plans to become a Jew, " Don't you know they killed Jesus?" I responded. " But I don't think Tevye did."
My mother at the time did not encourage me or discourage me from becoming a Jew. I guess she figured it was a lot better than Nazism.
Since that time, I have always had a respect for the Jewish faith. I still have the Fiddler on the Roof soundtrack on my Iphone. About a month ago, the song Anatevka came on while Michael (my son) and I were driving. After listening for a bit, Michael asked " I guess this is from a play?" I told him yes and he asked what it was about. I proceeded to tell him about Tevye's story. I told him how my brother Scott and I would do the dance, "If I were a rich man" to make my brothers and sisters laugh. At the point where I told him, how I used to like the Nazi party, he responded " well that was pretty dumb." I had to agree with him. He asked why the Nazis and the Russians had such a problem with the Jews. We had a very enlightening discussion.
I never did convert to Judaism but I always think I carry a little bit of Tevye inside of me.

King's Speech

I watched the King's Speech for the first time the other day and came away very impressed. Colin Firth deserves an Oscar for that role. As I watched it, another feeling came over me, this one I had not thought about in a while. I used to stutter also as a kid. Back in kindergarten, I would have the hardest time trying to say certain letters. This mainly came down to words that started with the letter s,t, and p that I remember. My mother would get me up earlier than the other kids and we would practice in the living room.
One thing in the movie that I do remember was the instructor asking the king, " Do you stutter when you read?" The answer came back "of course not, its in my head." I would do the same thing. Before I would say something, I would recite it over and over in my head and it would always sound perfect, but when the time came to say the actual sentence more often than not the stutter would come back. I would try so hard to say the words and my tongue would feel heavy in my mouth almost like it was overexerting itself.
My mother bought me this book called "Pop goes the weasel." We would read this over and over on the couch. Pop was one of the hardest words for me to say. I eventually overcame this by talking really fast. It used to get so bad that people could not understand the words coming out of my mouth.
I reflect on this not only for the stuttering problem but also for the help my mother showed me during this time. Now being a parent, I realize how hard it is to see your son/daughter having problems and you want to help them as much as you can.
I really recommend this movie as I think he really tries to show the audience how it is to deal with a speech impediment.
Next post that I write will be a little more humorous, I promise.

Letter People

One of my first memories and disappointments that I had when I was younger was finding out that the Letter People were not real.
The Letter People used to be in the classrooms to help kids learn their letters and also learn how to read. You would have Mr. M for munchy mouth, Mr. T for Tall Teeth and so on. Each one would have a background story and a certain personality.
I remember clearly my first time seeing said Letter People. I was in kindergarten and there was a knock at the door. Obviously now I know it was my teacher doing it but at that time my attention turned to the door, when the teacher called out. " Who could that be?" One of the students opened the door and there stood Mr. M.
At that time I was very excited as my first name also started with an M and here was this character standing outside our door with a big M on his chest and a great big smile. We watched a filmstrip after that all about Mr. M's day. How he woke up and ate macaroni for breakfast and did all these things during the day that began with the letter M.
Next came Mr. T and so on. It seemed every couple of days there was a new letter and I used to look forward to seeing a new one come in. It also did not help that PBS had a television program of the Letter People which encouraged my imagination.
Then came that horrible day when I walked into the classroom and underneath the assistants desk was Mr. V and she was using a foot pump to blow him up!! How could this be? Were the Letter People not real? All this time was I being tricked? I sat down at my desk and continued to stare at her foot going back and forth pumping up this inflatable person while pulling down my childish dreams.
After she was done, I saw her put a towel around him and then sneak into an annex of the class. Later that day Mr. V made his appearance.As the door was opened, I fumed inside. I had been lied to all this time. I looked at the Letter People sitting on the counter and noticed for the first time they were all standing still with the same expressions they had when we were first introduced.
I did get over it eventually but never felt the same about the Letter People since.