On the Pier, Remembering Sally Scott

(l-r) Cordelia, Cathy, Mike, and Sharon

By Cathy Scott

Our core family -- Michael, Cordelia and I -- walked out with Mike and Sally's lifelong friend Vernon Bowman to the end of the Ocean Beach Pier for a private memorial to remember our sister Sally. With us were Cordelia's husband, Bob Mendoza, Mike's wife Sharon, and Vernon's wife Sandy.

(l-r) Sandy, Vernon, Michael, Sharon

We had umbrellas with us, because it was raining. But as we reached the end of the pier and looked out into the deep blue ocean, near where a boat had weeks earlier gone out to sea with Sally's ashes, the rain suddenly stopped. As the memorial got underway, the sun came out. We couldn't help think that Sally was there with us, on the pier not that far from where Sally once lived in Ocean Beach.

Looking out to sea.

Bob and Cordelia

I read the poem "Stay Gold" by Robert Frost. He was Sally's favorite poet, and she typically referred to him as "Bobby Frost." Michael reminded us that when he was attending the University of Redlands, Frost had gone to the campus to talk informally with students. Mike had invited Sally, and she met Frost in person. Sally kept Frost's Leaves of Gold book on her dresser when we were kids. So it was special to read the following poem at her memorial:

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

Then, each of us took a red rose and pulled the petals, one by one, and dropped them into the ocean. As we did that, we played Stevie Wonder's song, "Stay Gold." The rose petals covered the water and then slowly moved out to sea.

Sally in the Laguna Mountains

Another poem that Sally enjoyed was "Feed Thy Soul" by poet Moslih Eddin. She taught me the lines when I was in junior high school. Her point in teaching it was to say, "Be good to yourself." I recited this verse at the memorial (which is a partly modernized version):

If of all thy worldly goods thou art bereft
And of thy store have but two loaves left
Sell one, and with the dole
Buy hyacinths to feed thy soul.

A little while later, once we had walked off of the pier and back to our cars, the rain started up again.  It marked the end of the memorial. Farewell, Sally -- sister, daughter, mother, grandmother, and dedicated employee of the FBI. You are missed.

Saying Happy Holidays With a Vintage Card

By Cathy Scott

Happy Holidays, one and all! This year is a Christmas of memories. So it's only fitting to post a vintage Christmas card with a photo of our parents, Eileen and Jim Scott, with my late sister Sally and brothers Mike and Jon (Cordelia and I weren't born yet), Our mother was being clever when she typed "Guess Who?" in the "from" portion of the card.

Stay well, safe, happy and healthy this holiday season!

More Vintage Photos

Mike and Mother (who's pregnant with Sally) in Minnesota

By Cathy Scott

My big brother Mike has the spotlight today in most of these photos.

One of the pics is of our Mom and Michael, taken while Mother was pregnant with Sally (she was 13 months younger than Mike), in North Pines, Minnesota. Mother's holding a smiling Mike while in front of the Daisy Mae and Lil' Abner cabins on Lake Superior. Quite a vintage photograph!

Mike with Dad

And, of course, all the pictures of Mike and Sally as toddlers are nothing short of precious.

But the one of Mike learning to walk with our Dad is a special moment in time. Father and son made for a handsome pair.

It's been a healing process, posting photos of my big sister Sally, who passed away in November. Most of the photos we've been posting have been stuck in family albums for years and are now just seeing the light of day.

Sally and Mike, with a ball, at a park with Mother

This photo of Mike (below) -- always smiling -- and Sally on the lawn with our Mom was taken when Sally was 1 year old and Michael was 2. And check out the the David Archuleta-looking 'do Mike is sporting.

Mike, Mother and Sally

Many of the photos -- but not all -- were included in albums that Cordelia and Sally painstakingly put together -- customizing them for all five of us siblings -- and gave them to us as Christmas gifts some years ago. Posting these photos has been a shot back in time, for sure, and a therapeutic one.

Family photos - a short story

By Cathy Scott

Here are more stories to continue telling the story of the Scott kids through photos, in remembrance of our sister, Sally, who recently passed away.

Sally was a big sister, little sister, daughter, mother and grandmother. But in these photos, she's a toddler, and a happy one. The photos are pulled from our family albums (thanks to my twin sister, Cordelia, for scanning them).
Napoleon Bonaparte's famous quotation, "A picture is worth a thousand words," is so true.

In the first two photos, our Mother, Eileen, is holding Sally next to a lake in Michigan, where Sally was born. Sally was just 6 months old. The smiles on both of their faces speak volumes.

The next photo (above) was taken around the same time with Mike, Sally and our Dad, Jim Scott. It appears they were still living in Michigan at that time and hadn't yet moved back to San Diego.


And, finally, this last photo--one of my favorites--is of Sally in a child's walker, with Michael standing with one foot on it, ready to go. They're beaming from ear to ear.

The Bottle House

Mike (left), Sally and Jon at The Bottle House at Knott's Berry Farm's Ghost Town.

By Cathy Scott

Our parents took us kids on great outings. Cordelia found this wonderful photo (top) of Mike and Sally, as well as of our brother Jon (Cordelia and I weren't born yet), standing with an Indian trader, in costume, in front of The Bottle House on Knott's Berry Farm in Buena Park, California.

Coincidentally, we knew, as children, that the co-founder of Knott's Berry Farm was named Cordelia, because it was such an unusual name. (Cordelia--named after our paternal grandmother--recently wrote on her blog about her name.)

I found a history of The Bottle House online and a vintage photo (above).

The Bottle House, according to the Knott site, was built from more than 3,000 empty wine and whiskey bottles turned inward, so the bottles wouldn't whistle in the wind. When the light hits the glass angled toward the interior, it shines colored light. The building was found in a deserted California mining town and relocated to Knott's Berry Farm's Ghost Town.

Our sister Sally enjoyed and collected antiques, so a photo of her standing in front of a frontier building is special. She looked pleased to be there.

Remembering our Sister Sally With Fun Family Photos

Sally & Nosey

By Cathy Scott

Cordelia has been going through our family albums, scanning pics, and has come across some incredible--and cute--photos, including one of Sally with Nosey, our family dog (left), at our back door.

And there's one of a very young Mike and Sally with our Mom and neighborhood kids.

Sally, 2 years old, posing for the camera

Really precious is this photo of Sally standing, with a big bow in her hair and a great smile on her face, in the family front yard. (And don't forget to check out the vintage car in the background in a nearby driveway.) Not to mention one of Sally with a wicker doll stroller.

Sally pushing a doll stroller

Then, there's a photograph of Sally, Cordelia, me and Mike with Mike's soapbox car. He was quite the soapbox builder and racer, and our Dad helped him build it. Mike was generous and took all of us for rides.

And there's a precious pic of Mike and Sally sitting on a zebra-striped burro (or is that a donkey?)  with our parents in Tijuana, during safer times.

But one of my favorite photo is us five kids on a porch laughing and having fun. Enjoy!

Cathy & Cordelia (front), Mike, Jon & Sally (back)

Mike, Sally, friends and our Mom

Eileen (Mother), Sally, Mike, and Jim (Dad)

Sally, Cordelia, Cathy & Mike with his soapbox car

A Time of Loss, A Time to Reflect

Xmas 1975 (l-r}: Cathy, Grandma Rose, Jon, Mother, Mike, Sally, Cordelia

 By Cathy Scott

Life changes on a dime, and it’s not easy when it happens. We just lost our sister, Sally Eileen Scott. She was seven years older than Cordelia and me. Our brother Michael, 13 months older than Sally, was a true big brother to us all, and remains so today, especially through our grief.

At a friend's Laguna Mountain cabin '82

It’s always a surprise the things that flash into our heads when family and friends pass away. With Sally, I remember when I was in junior high, and ruffled, polished-cotton blouses were the latest fad. Sally, who was in college and still living at home, worked a few evenings a week at a clothing shop in downtown La Mesa. One evening after work, she arrived home to surprise us with two blouses, one for Cordelia and one for me. Our mother sewed most of our clothes, and, by then, we had already started making our own too, so it was a true treat to have a stylish store-bought blouse.

Sally, a baby, with our Mother

As kids, our father packed all of us into the family four-door sedan and, each September, drove us to Julian to the mountains of San Diego County, to pick grapes in a vineyard, straight from the vine. It cost a dollar a lug--and they were big crates--if we picked them ourselves. We ate our way through the vineyard and would drive home, stuffed.

Every Christmas, it was Sally who tried to teach us not to literally throw the tinsel--and it was real tinsel--onto the Christmas tree as we decorated. She’d slow us down and show us how to gently drape the tinsel, piece by piece, over the needles and branches to give it a washed-in-silver look. Try as she might, it would still have a disheveled look about it.

While she was in college, I recall Sally and her girlfriends, Georgette and Ann, driving us to La Jolla Shores, and once to Windandsea, to swim in the ocean and sun bathe. Sally loved the beach.

When Michael was a lifeguard on the Mission Beach peninsula, every Tuesday night our Mother would take us there, to the bay side, to meet up with Mike at the end of his shift. She’d bring hot dogs, chips and drinks, and we’d have hot-dog roasts around the fire ring with Mike and his fellow lifeguards.

Not long after that, Sally married and moved to Pacific Beach. Our mom would take us there to visit her and our first niece. Cordelia and I fell in love with San Diego’s beaches and, eventually, we each moved to Pacific Beach, then to South Mission. Sally’s mother-in-law, May, lived on the bayside in South Mission and we regularly hung out there as teenagers. May was always good to us and had bikes ready for us to cruise the boardwalk.

Mike with Sally's oldest in our pool

Sally, Cordelia and I played in the annual O-T-L tournament on Fiesta Island, our first team sponsored by Tug’s Tavern, at that time a popular beach bar. Sally, Cordelia and I always hung out on the beach, and every summer holiday we had barbecues. Spending the day on the beach with my son, Raymond, Sally's kids, and friends was something we did every Memorial Day, Fourth of July and Labor Day holidays. The get-togethers became family traditions, and we looked forward to them each year. Mike and his family--his children Kevin and Heather and wife Sharon--who lived out of state, made it to one of those July 4th beach bashes.

I can’t count the number of long bike rides I took with Sally--up the coast to Cardiff-by-the-Sea, to Del Mar and back, and to the Old Point Loma Lighthouse in the Cabrillo National Monument. The longest ride was around 1990, when I won two trips for a Vermont inn-to-inn bike trek, and Sally went as my guest. Neither of us at that point had been back East. I treasure the memories I have bicycling beside her on beautiful winding, country roads, past plush farmlands. They were halcyon days.

One thing about Sally, everyone always said how pretty she was. She was a natural beauty and looked a lot like our Mother.

We were family. And quite a family it was with all of us--never a dull moment--chock full of memories we'll always have with us.

When Cordelia, at 10, had open-heart surgery, Sally stayed home with me at our house in La Mesa, while our parents waited at the hospital for the eight-hour surgery to be over. Our next-door neighbor, Mrs. Vetter, invited Sally and me to lunch at her house, to keep us occupied. I didn’t realize the seriousness of Cordelia’s surgery until Sally, so anxious about the risky operation, got sick to her stomach.