L. Scott Hancock, 78

If Scott wrote his obituary, he simply wanted to say: Born on Nov. 18, 1946 — Died on May 18, 2025. 

“What about the dash?” I asked. What a life he lived between the beginning and the end!

Scott never thought himself a great writer, “there are so many others that do a much better job,” he would say. “These are just silly little stories anyone could write.” How wrong he was!

I received a card the other day from one of his readers which read, in part, “I love Scott’s IP News articles and I love his books. He paints the stories of his life, with his words.” That is the difference, THAT is what made his “silly little stories” worth someone picking up the paper and looking for his next article.

Scott was a man of so many talents, self-taught in most cases, and learned, because as a young child with polio, he could either wallow in the circumstances or enrich his life, and that is what he did. 

 He sold worms, which he dug himself, to fishermen headed to Island Park; he shined his brother's shoes to earn a nickel. He would fix roller skates for other children in the neighborhood and figure out ways to earn enough money to buy his mother a gift on Mother’s Day.

He had fast friends with fast cars that took him places until he was finally able to buy a car of his own, which he retrofitted so he could drive it with hand controls. He took that car hunting and fishing in Island Park and other southeast Idaho locations as often as he could. He LOVED the outdoors!

He learned to paint and created art that is still held in esteem, he taught, and he headed up agencies where he learned how to beat the governmental bureaucracy that so many could not.

His construction work in North Idaho was vast, many homes and remodels have his signature on them. He, along with the best employees you could imagine, built masterpieces. Thank you to Jim Ford and Corey Greve for your years of dedicated work.

But the outdoors and being in nature were what he lived for.

Scott had a story or an answer to most questions without even guessing. He could quote poetry, write poetry, and loved the English language. He built fabulous houses but lived in the simplest of them, never believing that all that space was necessary.

He was asked many times to write a book about his life, and his answer was, “Nobody would believe I really did them.” But he did. It was not until we moved back to southeast Idaho and he “retired” — much to his displeasure — that he began to write his “little stories” with many friends and family encouraging him. We are now close to publishing Volume 3 of "Tales from the High Lonesome." I was hoping to have it done before he passed.

So, what is YOUR DASH? What will be your gift to leave this world? Scott had the ability to engage and enlighten so many. He reared children, though not his own, who are now successful young adults. He gave from his heart and loved to be with people, making friends everywhere he went.

I am not the writer; my husband was. I can only try to express what I saw and learned from him — and share some of his “dash” with you.

I hope that you will find something in your life that you can pass along to another, to help those less fortunate, or give of your talents. We only have a short time here on earth; we never know what will take us away before we are ready to go. Please make your “dash” something that people will remember.

Scott always said, “When you think of me, look to the sunsets, that's where I will be.”

Happy trails and farewell.

A celebration of life will be held in Blackfoot, Idaho, on July 12, 2025, if you have a story or would like to share anything about Scott, please email Colleen at [email protected].