Scott Alan Hofferber April 24, 1965 – April 10, 2003
Scott Alan Hofferber, 38, of Littleton, Colorado, suddenly and unexpectedly went home to be with his Lord and Savior on Thursday, April 10, 2003.
Scott was born April 24, 1965 in Grand Junction, Colorado and moved to Fort Collins with his family in 1968. Scott was a 1982 graduate from Rocky Mountain High School, Fort Collins, CO, and went on to continue his education at Aims Community College, Greeley, CO graduating in 1984 with an AA in Small Business Management. Scott was born with a very serious congenital heart defect; doctors said he would not survive past the age of four or five years of age. He had several close calls but proved the doctors wrong.
Scott truly was a miracle.
Scott married Tammi J. Lockman in March of 1986 and was blessed with four beautiful children, three sons and one daughter. He was a loving husband and father. He was very involved with every aspect of his children’s lives and enjoyed every minute he had with them. His wife and children were his life.
Scott was a member of Englewood First Assembly of God in Englewood, Colorado. He was very involved in the church and a leader of Royal Rangers Program.
Scott was Manager at Crown Trophy in Littleton, CO. Scott loved to camp and be outside as well as riding horses – his latest passion was watching NASCAR. Go #24!!
Scott is survived by his wife, Tammi, four children, Zachary 16, Jeffrey 15, Skyler 13 and Kylie-Jeanne 10; his parents George “Andy” and Maryann Hofferber and a brother, Steve of Fort Collins; a sister, Kimberly of Rio Ranch, NM; and numerous aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces and nephews.
Services will be held Wednesday, April 16, 2003, 11 a.m. at Timberline Church 2908 Timberline Rd., Fort Collins, Colorado with interment at Grandview Cemetery. In lieu of flowers, donations can be made to the Scott A. Hofferber Family Fund at the Colorado Business Bank of Littleton, Colorado. Donations may also be made at Allnutt Funeral Home in Fort Collins, Colorado.
I had the good fortune to meet Scott’s widow Tammi eight years after his death. Even at that huge distance of time I could feel what a good man he must have been. I wish I could have met him but I’m grateful that his legacy has come to me to preserve and protect. It’s an honor to be associated with the Hofferber family. Rest in peace Scott, you are fondly remembered and greatly missed. – MDW
My friend and neighbor Mike “The Beast” Savage when I lived on 48th St in Philly.
What a character. You see him here on a hot summer day hanging out on the roof of our building. He and his roomie Rob McNeile (not sure on that spelling) dubbed the roof ‘Silver Beach’ and many a good time was spent enjoying the view, the breeze and chatting.
If you know Mike’s whereabouts, ask him to get in touch. I hope he’s doing well.
This post was written Dec 10, 2008 and has been held back till now, mostly due to procrastination but also a desire to add more to it but not finding time. So I present it now and may revisit it later – at least the photos get published.- mdw 6/2011
After the memorial service for my father, family and friends gathered at a nearby Sportsmans’ Club. By that point I was pretty much a trainwreck from stress, travel, grief, etc. so I didn’t take a lot of photos. Here’s what I did take. Anyone that has more is welcome to send theirs and I’ll add them in.
(all images click to enlarge)
|Left to right
Bonita Jo Wray, my aunt Jean Rowe, my neice Lisa Diggs
|My brother David Wray and his wife Christine.|
|David remembers his Pennsylvania Military College days.|
|Me (Doug Wray), my brother David Wray and David’s son Michael.|
|Laurie Ammon, Guinie Walsh (thanks Laurie!!), Georgia (Missy) Wray and Jenny Brosko|
|Until I have time to write complete entries, here’s all the pix I took in a set at Flickr.|
A very sweet video about Joe Fuentes, one of my StorageTek friends.
Via con Dios Joe.
Watching this made me cry.
Taba at age 4 – click to enlarge
My coworker Marc’s dog that he brings to the office frequently.
I love Taba and the feeling’s mutual*.
When she was adopted her given name was ‘Tabatha‘ which is too long for a dog’s name (three syllables makes it a bit hard for them to learn – or so Marc says) so Marc chose to shorten her name to ‘Taba,’ which also had roots in the name of a beach town he went to during the three years he lived in Santiago, Chile, called ‘El Tabo‘ – but since Taba was a girl, it became ‘La Taba.’
She’s a delightfully sweet Labrador Retriever/Border Collie mix, full of energy and joy. When Marc arrives at the office in the morning she literally careens up the stairs and into my office barking and bouncing around – obviously overjoyed to see me.
How can you not love that?
A mutual friend to all above, E. Johnston of Lizzardbrand, Inc. did this great pet portrait:
(click image to enlarge)
* It’s also just vaguely possible that the box of biscuits in my desk drawer has a little something to do with it but I indulge myself in the conceit that it’s me she loves.
At last! (wireless here is just terrible in my room)
Here’s the first batch of images!
There are a lot of duplicates and many need rotated to vertical as well as captioning. Work, work, work! I’m here to PLAY!
Note – all these images are royalty-free, use them any way you like.
December 11th, 2008
Marilyn got a hospital bed for her back, which had been really acting up before her diagnosis with lymphoma. She had been using the oxygen concentrator for some time and I’d just had cable service installed in her room. Looks just like a hospital room.
I’ve said how much -I- didn’t like being in the hospital, but the truth is, for months, she *lived* in one. And never complained.
You can see Kinky, her favorite of our two cats, ‘on guard’.
Colonel Alan E. Goldsmith
Resident of Walnut Creek
Colonel Alan E. Goldsmith, U.S. Air Force, Ret., 85, died December 22nd, 2008 in Walnut Creek, California. Enlisted as an Aviation cadet in 1942, proudly served in combat in the U.S. Air Force (and predecessors) during three wars (WWII, Korea and Vietnam), also battled (honorably and ethically – no honorariums, gratuities, fund raisers or PACs) the Congress during two Pentagon tours, and retired in 1973 after over thirty years active duty in England, France, Germany, Japan, Korea, Cambodia, Laos, Philippines, Thailand, Vietnam and other parts of the world (with occasional tours in the U.S.). Flew over 5600 hours in open-cockpit trainers, Bombers (B-17 and B-25), Transports (C-46, C-47, C-54, C-118), Fighters (P-61, F-82 and some jets), and other aircraft types, at speeds from Mach 0.2 to Mach 1.2.
After his Air Force career, he worked in management and management consulting, dabbling in computers and professional video photography, after discovering it was impossible to make a decent living sandbagging on various golf courses.
Eternally proud and grateful for the love, devotion, confidence and unwavering support of his wife and best friend, Katsue, who survives him. Also survived by a number of sons and daughters, their various spouses, and many grandchildren, nieces and nephews, a few good friends, some great physicians, attorneys, accountants – and the IRS. He lived a wonderful adventure and left with no regrets and one thought: “we’re all terminal so do some good for others along the way.”
First, here’s the eulogy I wrote for his memorial service.
It was an amazing service. The Kiskiminetas Mason Lodge 617 turned out as did the Shriner Clowns whom he had been a member of.
The Masonic service was incredibly moving and it was very obvious my father’s fellow lodge members loved him dearly and grieved his death. Being a mason was a big part of my father’s life and when he and my mother returned to the Pennsylvania area, he became active again – eventually joining the Shriner clowns and helping to raise the spirits of sick children. My dad loved children and it’s so obvious in photos and stories told about him – tying balloon animals for hours so that every single child at an event took something away to remind them of the happy time.
Something the Shriner Clowns did was just touching beyond words – they each left a small balloon animal on the altar as they passed. Seeing the Masonic symbols (lambskin apron, evergreen sprigs and scroll) together with these simple icons of childhood were crushingly poignant. Clearly you could see this was a complicated man who touched people on a lot of levels.
There’s so much story to tell that I’m just going to start dropping in photos and describe them. Try and keep up.
Here’s some family photos that came to me after the funeral (click images to enlarge)
My dad was born and grew up on a farm in Spring Church, PA.
This is his family. I think that’s him on the left in the first row of kids.
When my father left his family farm (another story!) he went to work in the local steelmill (US Steel) and met my mother (Shirley) and his to-be inlaws. This is such an iconic shot.
Emily and William Rowe, my mother’s parents. I knew only Emily, William died when I was very little. (here’s my eulogy for my grandmother)
My mother had two sisters, Bobby and Gwenevere and a brother William (my uncle Mickey). Here’s a great shot of all of them after a night on the town:
Back row: Mickey Rowe, Les Walsh, Bob Fleissner, George Wray.
Front row: Jean Rowe, Emily’s three daughters, Bobby Rowe (Walsh), Gwen Rowe (Fleissner) and Shirley Rowe (Wray). Note the horns being added by my uncle Bob and my father. I take it from the straws that drinking had been involved. Uncle Bob looks either very sleepy or completely fried. Needless to say, it was a very close-knit group. All of these people were very much a part of my life as I was growing up and I love them all dearly. (High-resolution image available.)
Well, it wasn’t long after (maybe even before) this photo was taken that my parents started building a family.
The children of George and Shirley Wray are, in order:
Bonita Jo (Bunny)
David William (see also this entry)
Here’s a couple of shots of my mom and I sitting on the front porch of our house in Apollo – we lived in two different places – one in the lower part of town, the other ‘up on the hill’ (Oak Hill) (map).
Love ya dad.
I start to remember my father’s career starting around the time he got a job at the US Steel Monroeville Research Center. (everybody’s welcome to help me fill in his earlier years in the steel mill, then San Diego in the Navy and then as a door-to-door insurance salesman – all I know is stories passed on) If I remember right, he started out doing welding for vacuum systems, which led him into a position on the new one-million-volt electron microscope US Steel was buying. That was a rough time for him – apparently he’d claimed a high-school diploma and didn’t actually have it! So he had to hurriedly cram for and take the GED, not something you just do in a week. He did. He also learned electronics via correspondence, amazing to me even now. He worked at US Steel for (I think) twelve years, took early retirement and moved to a job at the University of Colorado’s Molecular, Cellular and Developmental Biology.
Here’s some photos from George’s time at US Steel’s Monroeville Research Center:
The RCA 1-million-volt transmission electron microscope. That’s George at the console – he spent thousands of hours running this sci-fi-lookin thing. I spent a fair bit of time here with him on various occasions. The room was kept darkened when the microscope was in use. That, combined with the huge, hulking supports, the humming of pumps, clicking relays and control switches only made it more exciting. This was the glowing heart of scientific research at the time – and my dad was square in the middle of it!
This is the ‘accelerator room’ – I think they called it that because it made your heart race to come up the stairs, turn a corner and see this. It’s a Cockcroft-Walton generator and was a part of early ‘atom smashers.’ This is where the one million volts of energy was generated to accelerate the electrons into the microscope’s ‘column’ downstairs.
Cutting-edge, state-of-the-art video recording technology! 2″ reel-to-reel VTR (before cassettes and helical scan!) I think they were recording steel samples being heated/stressed mechanically to watch the crystalline structure change in real time. Never-before-seen effects!
My father didn’t just -work- on this machine, he helped assemble it. This transformer is below the floor of the accelerator room shown above. There’s my dad, as usual, up to his elbows in the dirtiest job. I think he loved doing the ‘messy’ jobs that no one else wanted to do.
Here’s George at the top of the electron-beam column. He’s actually -inside- the part that the guy is polishing in the photo above of the accelerator. This was the ‘electron gun’ assembly where the ‘filament’ was housed that actually created the beam of electrons.
Here’s a color advertisement US Steel ran -great shot of the accelerator. That’s my dad applying a grounding rod to it. For what it’s worth, my dad didn’t really wear a lab coat all the time.
I think this group is the team that assembled the microscope. My dad’s in the back row, second to last on the right.
Another group shot. I think this was the primary building-installation team. My dad’s in the back row, last one on the right. Note that everone’s wearing dosimeters – this thing generated high-energy x-rays when it was on, so radiation exposure had to be monitored.
Group shot of the entire research staff. I think this is everyone that worked at the Monroeville Research Center.
Here’s my dad, closeup from the photo above. He’s in the fourth row back, third in from the left. Look at his face – I know that look. He was so tickled he was probably trembling. This had to be one of the Big Moments in his life to be counted among these people.
When George left US Steel Research after 12 (?) years his co-workers presented him with a notebook filled with significant photos (several shown above) as well as some fun ‘geek humor’:
I love that it’s all elements from the lab: the Dymo labeller (very new at the time and the labels were ubiquitous throughout the lab. The USS logo patch that was on coats, the part-tag (with my dad’s employee number I suspect, but don’t know for sure). Basically it’s supposed to be an ‘operating log’ similar to the one kept for The Scope.
This page is just filled with all kinds of silly ‘in’ jokes. The ‘Description of Specimen’ is, however, perfectly accurate. One of the signatures at the bottom right is J.Scott Lally. If I understand the ‘Plate exposure’ line, 39,683 photos were taken by the MVEM during my father’s time there. Not a bad record!
Map to ‘Party for George Wray’ – I think the location name is also a gag: ‘Elec. Heights Hous. Assoc.’ very likely means ‘Electron Heights Housing Association’ and was perhaps housing for visiting scientists. It had a ‘hut’ which is Cold War slang for a guard shack. This was probably a meeting hall for the research campus. I love that “Informal” has no less than seven underlines. I think they meant VERY informal.
We moved to Boulder, CO in the 1970s and baby, it was a whole different world. From a high-security corporate research lab to a wide-open biology research lab on a college campus. A whole new microscope to install and operate. Nobel-prize-winning scientist Dr. Keith Porter was in charge at the time, so it was pretty heady stuff.
Dick McIntosh and George Wray pose on the upper deck of the JEOL 1000C TEM.
Taking apart the Hanford, WA scope. They worked round-the-clock for days salvaging every single unique component they could. Many parts of the Hanford scope went into keeping the Boulder, CO scope going.
After my father retired from the University of Colorado, he and my mother moved to Winston-Salem, NC. Wake Forest University friends had him teaching students in no time flat. He kept working for several more years and no doubt contributed immensely to the sciences by teaching yet another generation of microscope users how to get the most out of a TEM.
When he finally decided to stop working, he wanted to return to Pennsylvania to his roots. He and my mother moved back to PA near the town of Indiana where my sister Georgia (Missy) lived at the time. My mother began having TIAs and finally succumbed to a massive stroke shortly after they’d renovated a home and were settling in nicely. It was such a blow. My father went on. He became active in the Masons again and then the Shrine and became a clown. Here’s some photos from that time:
And now, the clown pix:
|George Wray as ‘BOO’ the clown.|
|Closeup of George Wray as ‘BOO’ the clown.|
|All dressed up and going on!|
|Making balloons for the kids.|
|Another happy kid – a clown’s best reward.|
There’s SO, SO much more to say, but I’ll leave it up to you readers to find the comment field below and add your own memories of George or correct me where I’ve mis-stepped. All submissions welcome. Send your images to firstname.lastname@example.org and don’t worry about whether it’s appropriate or not. George would have loved it – anytime one of his friends laughs, I’m sure his spirit hears them.
And in all this, my mother appears only a small satellite due to her reluctance to having her picture taken. Know that she was everywhere my father was. For over forty years they walked together as husband and wife and I am certain they are rejoined now. As much as our world is dimmed by his passage, I am sure somewhere there are angels singing and laughing.
Goodbye My Father. You are in my heart always.
5 April 1998 – 8 June 2007
Noble hound of ancient breed,
beloved of Gia and Chuck.
May the winds bear you upward friend and
may you all one day be reunited.
Some photos sent to me by my niece Leslie. THANKS!
Numerous relations, including:
Group pic, from left to right:
Les and Barb Walsh, Ben Floyd, Carrie (Ben’s girlfriend, pastor’s daughter), Clair Floyd, Tammie Filo, Joe Walsh, Thomas Floyd
Pastor (in Pirates shirt) (This is the Pastor that did Grandma’s service. I can’t remember his name), Pastor’s son, Pastor’s wife, Sue Floyd, Barb Walsh, Leslie Walsh, Caitlin Floyd (standing), Casey Walsh (in chair)
My aunt Gwen, uncle Mickey and aunt Bobby.
Bobby and Les in Savannah, GA outside Six Pence Pub. They were in GA to see President Jimmy Carter preach.
Les showing off his great legs and killer smile.
Beloved of Rebecca and David, departed this 20th day of January. Adopted as an orphan and cared for as family. I knew this sweet girl and mourn her passing. Bon voyage mon petite.
I offer the following for her owners:
Do not stand at my grave and weep
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there;
I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there;
I did not die.
When you marry someone, you don’t always learn everything about their past right away. Sometimes you stumble across things…
We’ve had close to 30″ of snow in the past two weeks, we’ve had to rely on help from our trusty neighbor Taylor to come dig us out!
1977, just after college graduation. My mother and I at Arlington National Cemetary.
I remember being overwhelmed by all the death. Acres and acres of tombstones.
Little did I realize that one day the battle would come to me. My mother’s death means so much more to me than all those soldier’s lives.
Sometimes I miss you so much mom.
I’ll be along, wait up.