A tough reminder that we're a good town

Thursday, February 19, 2004

To put it succinctly, last week really sucked. It was seven days filled with dread, horror, dashed hopes, unbelief and numbing grief. I pray that myself, my family, my friends, and my community never have to go through another ordeal like the one we just experienced.

When my husband got the call from Rich Barnett late last Sunday telling him about Scott Hoffman's disappearance, our world came to a crashing halt. And when Phil returned from the search hours later with the horrible news that Scott couldn't be found and was feared drowned, the grief and horror seemed immeasurable. How could this have happened? Why Scott? What must poor Darcey and the kids be going through?

Monday came and it was a day spent on pins and needles for all of McCook. Hundreds of local people were searching for Scott, more were praying for him. Everyone was glued to the radio with hopes of hearing some good news. But when Scott's body was found and pulled from the lake, our hearts were broken. No miracle was going to occur. An outstanding husband, father, son, and friend was gone forever.

There is not much I can say to eulogize Scott that hasn't been said already. We feel privileged to have known him as a friend. I can still picture him at the Christmas party at Phil's office just over a month ago. He and Darcey sat across the table from me as we ate pizza, drank, and swapped stories. Scott had a witty sense of humor and was having a great time regaling us with stories about City Council meetings and County Commissioner meetings he had attended. We talked about the joys of having teenagers, home improvement projects, and the Presidential primaries. It was a wonderful evening, and I will always treasure the memory of that last time I got to see him.

The one thing that impressed me last week when the accolades about Scott started pouring in was his young age. For someone who was only 33 years old, he had accomplished a great deal. He was city editor for two newspapers, helped to run a successful Senate race (and for a Democrat in Nebraska, no less!) and was now a staff member for Senator Ben Nelson. Wow! He had done in a few years what most people couldn't do in a lifetime. This makes us even sadder as we ponder what he might have gone on to do if his life here on earth had been longer.

But what I want to focus on in this column is how this community reacted to Scott's disappearance and death. I want to recall how we pulled together to try and find him, and how we gathered together in our shared grief and trauma. I want to remind us what our unified spirit was like this past week and how we exemplified the best attributes of humans during the worst of times.

When the plea went out on the radio that Monday morning asking for volunteers to help search, over 200 people converged on the Safety Center. The searchers represented every aspect of the social spectrum. There were pharmacists and physical therapists, veterinarians and optometrists, lawyers and insurance agents, teachers and students, barbers and engineers, plumbers and chiropractors, farmers and ranchers. There were crews from the Work Ethic Camp, NPPD, Game and Parks, State Roads and the City Works Department. Every law enforcement officer and EMT from a 40-mile radius was here or on call if needed.

Those who couldn't search were still involved. Food poured into the Safety Center and to the Hoffman house. Restaurants, fast food establishments, bakeries, supermarkets, retirement centers, convenience stores and individuals brought food and drinks to feed the searchers and to help comfort the family.

And we prayed. Every church with a prayer chain had it mobilized early that morning and I'm sure that Heaven was inundated with thousands of prayers for Scott's return, for the safety of the searchers, for strength for the family.

When the end to the search came that horrible afternoon, the phone lines across the area were busy carrying the news of Scott's demise. People called each other to verify the outcome, to cry together, and to plan what they should do next to try and help.

And last Friday we mourned together. It was almost a surreal feeling to be in that auditorium packed with over 800 of Scott's friends and family members. As I looked around before the service started I saw members of Scott's church; most of the high school student body; men who had played basketball with Scott; Senator Nelson, his wife and staff. It was touching to notice that several of our former high school basketball players had returned from college to pay tribute to the man with whom they had enjoyed playing "noon ball."

Perhaps the most powerful moment of that service was near the end when Rev. Bruce Lester asked those in attendance who had helped in the search or who had provided food to please stand so that the Hoffman family and the rest of us could thank them for their efforts.

At first there was a sense of hesitation; nobody wanted to stand up and be recognized. But slowly people of all ages began to stand up and receive their well-deserved thanks. It truly took my breath away to see how many members of this community had set aside their schedules and their plans that Monday morning to try and help someone who lived among them.

Life in McCook is not always a bed of roses. As a community, we can get cranky, exhibit temper tantrums, pout and yell "no fair" when we don't get our way. The drought, the water woes, and the economy have all taken their tolls on us and on our manners. We often regress and act like two-year-olds instead of adults.

But last week reinforced my love for this town and for this part of the world. We put our differences aside, we forgot about our hurts, we quit arguing, and we worked together with a common purpose.

We acted nobly and handled ourselves in an exemplary fashion. We suffered a blow to our soul and refused to let it cripple us or harden our hearts.

It was a tough way to be reminded of how we should act and conduct ourselves. And I hope that we never again have to face such a monumental loss to show us that we need to appreciate our fellow townspeople and the caring, loving attitude that pervades this city.

Scott and his presence, his enthusiasm, his Christian morals, and his dedication to McCook and Nebraska will be fondly remembered and deeply missed by us all. And I truly believe that he is looking down from Heaven with a smile and a sense of appreciation for all this town did last week.

We're not perfect and this isn't Mayberry RFD where problems are resolved with a smile and an "Aw Shucks."

But we are a community that can pride itself on its compassion, its ethics, its dedication, its determination, its love for fellow man. And there's no other place where I'd rather live or raise my family.

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