Kim Edward Scott

Kim Edward Scott of Wildorado, TX, passed away on Wednesday, April 5th, 2023. He was preceded in death by his wife, Glenda Scott, and his parents John P. and Leoma Scott. He is survived by his two sisters, Donna Bowles of Lubbock, TX, Stacy Scott of Bertram, TX, his six children, Loretta Sherwood of Panhandle, TX, JJ Scott of Georgetown, TX, Kelton Scott of Vega, TX, Natasha Garcia of Plainview, TX, Kimberlea Scott of Amarillo, TX, Jacolby Scott of Wildorado, TX, and his 19 grandkids.

Kim was born May 14th in Monroe, Louisiana, in 1955. He grew up in Austin, TX, where he attended and graduated from Lanier High School. He was a running back for the Lanier High School Vikings and by his own admission, he never played much. However, he was quick to tell everyone he could high-kick higher than the Vikettes cheer squad. He thought that oughta count for something. He was well-known as ‘the milk & cookies boy’ because he didn’t run around unhinged as high school boys on high school football teams are inclined to do. Even so, he flourished in his magnetic appeal. His senior year he won the coveted ‘Viking Spirit Award’, an award voted on by players and coaches to recognize a remarkable teammate whose impact went beyond the field in personifying the spirit of the institution. According to his sisters, schoolmates, and church friends; his teammates weren’t the only ones fond of him. Young ladies were drawn to ‘the milk & cookies boy’, too.

Even early on he was no stranger to hard work. He worked for construction companies and cleaned up job sites across Austin through his high school years. He liked to recount a story to his kids from that chapter of his life. He was on a University of Texas job site when a 500-ton crane fell across I-35 and smashed his yellow car like a tin can. Ever since then, he drove cars he didn’t care too much about, after all, you never know when a falling hunk of steel might demolish it from out of nowhere.

You never caught him without a smile on his face. His sisters remember their dad saying, “Look at your brother’s grin. There’s something wrong with him. Nobody should be that happy all the time.” And if you knew Kim, you know there’s some truth in that. He had a real gift for optimism in a way most people don’t possess it.

He was raised at Cameron Road Church of Christ in Austin and he had his first exposure to Lubbock Christian College there. He followed many of his friends in attending university there and his parents weren’t thrilled with the distance that would put between them. But he flourished there. He was Vice President of the student body, a member of the Kyodai Club, and the consummate showman he was, he produced the Master Follies homecoming variety show for a season or two. Long after he’d graduated he made it a special point to take his kids to the full range of homecoming activities at LCC. They remember falling asleep in the SUB, watching games the next day at the Rip, the banquet dinner, and the pancake breakfasts. At each event, they’d watch their dad work the room and talk and talk and talk until their eyes got heavy and they opted to wait in the car.

He graduated with a bachelor’s in psychology. He had a way of making everyone feel special and proud and he was such a proponent of the school that it only made sense he’d end up working there in that capacity. Some of his best friends came from his time spent as a Hard Travelers recruitment program sponsor, where he toured the country meeting college-bound kids to tell them about LCC.

He met his wife Glenda at LCC while working in the student development office. They were married and lived in Lubbock for a time before moving to Hobbs, NM. They moved to Austin shortly after then and Kim followed in his father, John P’s, footsteps and began his career with the U.S. Postal Service. His wife taught elementary school in Round Rock, TX. Around the same time, his first son, JJ, was born and adopted by Kim and Glenda. They soon moved to Amarillo and began house-parenting at High Plains Children’s Home. They had a big heart for hurting kids and a big desire to grow their family.

Next, they had Kelton ‘the old-fashioned way’ and adopted Natasha, and kept adopting. They adopted Kimberlea and then Jacolby. Then they thought maybe five is enough and it was. They also spent time at Golf Course Road Church of Christ Children’s Home in Midland, TX, before returning to Glenda’s hometown of Wildorado, TX.

The family was always very important to Kim and despite his distance from Central Texas, he was always going back home to see his family, to work the farm, to take his kids to see the capital or some museum. He was always involved with his family back home, which usually meant frequent phone calls. Sunday mornings presented a special kind of ritual in the Scott household. Kim would cook breakfast and talk to his mom on the portable phone balanced between his head and shoulder so he could crack eggs. One by one each of the kids would be drawn into the kitchen by the smell of eggs, bacon, and biscuits and the appeal that their grandmother wanted to talk with them on the phone. This worked until they became teenagers. At that point he would employ other more sinister tactics like tickling feet or loud singing, “Ba-bop-bit-a-bop, Ba-bop-bit-a-bop (like a bugler’s trumpet) You can’t get ‘em up in the morning.” Or “Aye, ye, ye, ye, I am the Frito bandito”. Some combination of that would work and his kids would get up and talk to their grandmother. The earliest riser would get the bacon, biscuits, and eggs. The next wave may only get biscuits and eggs, and by the time the slowest would arrive to hear grandma’s voice, there were usually only remnants of egg and maybe half a biscuit if someone felt generous.

Even later in life, Kim talked to his family, his mom, sisters, and kids, multiple times per day or week. Even his grandkids spoke with him frequently when they got their cell phones.

He was a deeply committed and reliable man. He never missed a homecoming at LCU… Unless you count the time he was in a medically-induced coma. Kim fought for his life through a cataclysmic medical event in 2003. He lost a hundred pounds in that hospital bed that summer and most of it he has no recollection of. His sister Donna documented it in notes just so he could make sense of it.

It was cataclysmic, but it was miraculous, too. The church, the community, and all who loved Kim (Kimmonites as his sister calls them) showed up for him day after day for months. They gathered and said how much they loved him, or how much he made them laugh and told stories about what he’d done for them and how he’d made them feel special. When anyone asked Kim how he felt about those days, he’d always say he just felt like he had to keep going and live long enough to get his kids grown.

Kim was steady in his faith and the foundational belief that God was ordering his steps, and was in control, no matter what chaos or tragedy was at hand. Even during the arduous recovery from his illness. He held to this matter-of-fact perspective even when Glenda passed away shortly after his recovery. It is who he was with every fiber of his being. He handled life with total trust in God.

Recently, he told his daughter Kimberlea that he was ready to go whenever God called him because he had achieved what he was called to do. He knew his kids were OK and they’d turned out just like he’d wanted them to.

The paramedic reported a man who was totally at peace. A man with no anxiety or regrets. He had the peace of a man who had done what he needed to do.

The family will receive friends from 5 PM – 6:30 PM on Monday, April 10, 2023, at the funeral home.

Services will be at 1:00 P.M., Tuesday, April 11, 2023, at Central Church of Christ Chapel with Allan Stanglin, minister, officiating.  Burial will be at Mount Zion Cemetery in Bertram, Texas.   Arrangements are by Boxwell Brothers Funeral Directors, 2800 Paramount Blvd.

Memorials can be made to Lubbock Christian University at 5601 19th St. Lubbock, TX 79407, or

https://lcu.edu/give

in honor of Kim.