Judge Scott: Respected on bench, beloved by his friends

April 22, 2008 12:15 am

Scott

WHEN OUR sons spent 13 years together in city schools, from kindergarten plays to the senior prom, I found a good friend in John Scott.

You can't help but get to know someone on the path that goes from elementary-school plays to high-school awards assemblies.

But I really got to know the extraordinary man known by friends as "Scottie" when our sons played football together at James Monroe High School.

From the days when his son Jeff showed extraordinary leadership skills as an eighth-grade quarterback until the boys' undefeated senior season, Scottie and I were there to cheer them on.

Traveling hither and yon to those games--to the Northern Neck, the Eastern Shore and elsewhere--gave the two of us and our wives many memorable, pride-filled evenings.

But there was one other thing Scottie and I shared that created another bond: a true love for food.

You see, whenever our kids played games, John and I helped organize where parents would eat beforehand.

Playing Washington & Lee in Montross?

Hit the Driftwood seafood restaurant at Coles Point.

Taking on King William at their place?

Pack into a Vinny's there two hours before kickoff.

And so on, from Chincoteague to Amelia.

In four years of high school play, we left no entree untouched.

Those special nights and Scottie's quick, contagious sense of humor we came to know were on my mind last week hearing the unwanted news of his death.

At the age of 59, the pioneering civil rights lawyer, judge, husband and proud father had passed away at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore.

Hearing the news, I immediately began flashing back to the many good times we'd shared.

Thinking back to the first time we met, I remembered being struck by how unassuming, humble and personable he was.

Yes, he was a circuit judge who had blazed legal trails of all sorts as the first black jurist hereabouts.

And yet, when we parents gathered for games or events, there was no pretense.

He was simply Scottie, helping his equally personable wife, Alda White, haul in a case of soft drinks, a box of doughnuts or whatever some class or team needed.

On bus trips to faraway games or shared rides to ones closer to home, his voice was one that stood out.

Conversations were usually punctuated by heartfelt cackles of laughter and always tinged with a warm love of life that made him fun to be around.

While lawyers and educators will do a better job than I extolling his bright career as a judge and civil rights pioneer, I'm qualified to say in our little piece of the world that he was the one all the other parents wanted to sit next to at dinner or the game.

But perhaps my favorite memory comes from the night when the two of us were chaperoning a dance at J.M.

Upset when school officials denied them entry because they hadn't gotten permission ahead of time, a small, agitated group of youngsters surged toward where Scottie and I were selling tickets.

Quickly assessing the situation, Scottie leaned over to me and with a chuckle said under his breath: "If this thing gets physical, I'll grab the cash box and you get my back as we exit stage left."

It didn't come to that.

But that didn't stop the two of us from sharing a laugh about it when our shifts were done.

That memory and countless others are what I'll treasure now that this special man, who brightened the lives of so many, is no longer with us.

Rob Hedelt: 540/374-5415
Email: rhedelt@freelancestar.com