Scott Paris Obituary

The world lost a real life Ben Rumson on October 28, 2023, upon the death of Scott Edward Paris of Columbia, South Carolina. Scott was born under a wandering star in Ft. Riley, Kansas, on February 5, 1956. As the third child, he was doted on by his two older siblings and parents. He enjoyed this favored circumstance his entire life.

The wanderlust manifested itself as soon as he learned to open the front door. He would happily explore the neighborhood while his frantic mother tracked him down, having to resort to the police on more than one occasion. Ever practical, his mother placed Scott in a harness and leash, bravely enduring disapproving looks from mothers of more compliant children. Scott and his family were stationed at a fair number of military bases, but he never was deterred by the unfamiliar. Once, he and his brother decided to run away during a typhoon in Okinawa. Fortunately, there wasn't anywhere to go on such a small island, and the wind and rain eventually drove them back home.

Scott was a jack of a few trades, but his favorite employment was as a professional scuba diver. He parlayed his skills into an awesome hobby that served as the basis for diving trips with his father. Together they concocted outrageous tales that may even have been authentic. True to his motto, "work smarter, not harder," Scott found a plum position in "man country" as a steward for the Alaska Marine Highway. There he spent the summers catering to passengers and joking with the staff. During his winter sabbaticals, Scott traveled throughout the United States and abroad, from the Northern Territory of Australia to the fjords of Norway to standing on a corner in Winslow, Arizona. He has the shot glass collection to prove it. Any suggestion of a roadside attraction led to a detour. Point him toward the world's largest bottle of catsup or Foamhenge or a lunchbox museum and he was off. He enjoyed exploring hundreds of miles of the rails-to-trails system on his bike. As Ben Rumson would say, "there's two kinds of people, them goin' somewhere and them goin' nowhere." Scott purely was in the first category.

Scott could be a frustrating pain in the rear, but he had a deadpan sense of humor that compensated for his occasional shortcomings. One of his nieces literally believed as a girl that he was Bill Murray. He enjoyed old movies, especially anything that featured John Wayne or Gary Cooper. One of his son's earliest memories is learning how to play the original Zelda at his father's knee. Scott loved Xena and Star Trek and HO trains. Because of him, every Christmas season commences with a showing of "The Snowman," every St. Patrick's Day includes a rendition of "The Quiet Man," and any day of the week is a good time to watch "Paint Your Wagon."

Scott is survived by his sister, Deborah P. Morgan of Columbia, South Carolina; his son with Liz Gentry, Adam Q. Gentry of Lawrence, Kansas; nieces Jennifer (Glenn) Paris-Schley, Lane (Breck) Bowen, and Taylor E. Paris; nephew Drew (Heather) Morgan; and their various offspring. He was preceded in death by his grandparents, C. Harris Potts and Helen T. Potts; his grannie, Violet E. Paris; his father, Edward J. Paris; his mother, Barbara M. Paris; and his brother, Craig P. Paris. Maybe he didn't deserve it, as infuriating as he could be, but his friends around the globe remained loyal and loved him even when they wanted to pinch his ears off, especially Byron and Janice.

Scott is sorely missed. But somewhere he is humming, "Where am I goin'? / I don't know / Where am I headin'? / I ain't certain / All that I know / Is I am on my way! / But who gives a damn? / Who gives a damn? / Who gives a damn ? / We're on our way!"