Beech Tree News Network

Dear Editor,
December 7, 1941- Attack on Pearl Harbor
November 22, 1963- JFK assassination
September 11, 2001- Terrorist attacks
All days that those who were alive can remember where they were at, what they were doing and could probably even tell you details such as the weather…
                I remember vividly where I was and what I was doing on 9-11… I was chopping silage down Old Woodbury Road in Woodbury. When I left home that morning, Margo and I had been watching the news and at the time I left we just thought there had been a terrible accident as a plane crashed into one of the Twin Towers.  As I started chopping corn and listening to the radio I, quickly realized with everyone else that our nation was under attack. I, like most of you, have images of that day stamped in my mind.

                January 21, 1995 is another day that I can remember in detail…

                At 4:30 am I was awoken by a knock at my door.  As I rounded the corner into the utility room, I was somewhat surprised to see my Dad at the door.  I assumed cows were out somewhere, and he needed my help getting them up.  Oh how I wish that had been true!! As I approached the door, I saw my sister, Sharla with him and she was crying, just as I am crying now trying to write this. I knew immediately in my heart why they were there before they told me…then Dad uttered those 4 words that still haunt me to this day…”it’s Scott…he’s gone.”  I ran to the couch and buried my head screaming “it can’t be!!” A moment later I was in the bathroom vomiting. My brother…my best friend was dead.
                My family is rather large by today’s standards. There were six of us kids, Shannon, Sharla, Scott, me, Kyle, and Kent.  Shan had Shar, Kyle had Kent, and I had Scott and Scott had me. Now I’m by no means saying that I loved Scott more or anything like that, my siblings know better than that. But the fact was, growing up Scott and I were together the majority of the day every day, whether going around fences, pulling cane out of soybeans, fighting, or playing basketball…
                Scott’s love for the game was second to none.  He was a blue bleeding Wildcat fan from an early age. He would get off work some evenings on game day and drive a truck that I wouldn’t trust to go out of the county, all the way to Lexington, (without tickets mind you), in hopes of finding a scalper that he could buy a ticket from to watch the Cats live, knowing full well he wouldn’t get home until the middle of the night and still have to work the next day.  He loved watching basketball!!
                Scott also loved to play ball, and he was good!!  As kids we would shoot for hours on a goal Dad had put up on the side of our tool shed. When it rained, it was a mud hole from 15 foot in.  As Scott reached high school age, and had a timely growth spurt, it was obvious to everyone that he had some talent.  As a junior, he averaged close to if not double figures. One of the highlights of his junior season was homecoming against Cloverport.  We were all at the house getting ready for the game that night and I remember like it was yesterday him saying “guys I’m going to dunk one in the game tonight”.  No one had dunked in a game for Butler County since maybe Todd Embry a few years before.  We were all like “yeah, right”.  Mid way through the first half Scott stole the ball at midcourt and got a break away and threw it down! The place went crazy!! The next day at school, Norman Weaver gave him the name “The Dunking Moose”.  Moose was his name from then on.
                Scott’s senior year was met with high expectations.  A senior laden team that included Lance Chapman, as one of the best guards in the region, and Jerry Hurt as the top big man in the region.  If I remember correctly, we started 3-0 having beaten two of the top teams, Logan County and Todd County.  Scott was averaging 14 points and several rebounds per game and was by all accounts one of the leaders of the team.
                Game four was against Warren East and that’s where Scott’s story takes a dramatic turn.  The game was tight. I will still say we were the better team, but I guess that’s debatable.  In the second quarter, Scott stole the ball and got a break away and a kid undercut him.  Scott landed awkwardly on his leg and tore his ACL.  He was devastated.  He rehabbed hard and tried to come back for district play, but it just wasn’t meant to be.  His hopes of winning the region and going to state as well as any hope of playing college ball were gone.
                It was around this time that Scott started drinking… It was just a few beers with friends on the weekends in the beginning but soon turned into something that was out of control.  Over the next few years, we would talk about it, and he would assure me that it wasn’t a problem.  We both knew it was.
I remember the last, long conversation we had on my front porch.  He was having marital problems and had come over to talk.  We talked for maybe an hour, and he told me he was going to stop drinking and get back in church.  It was the last meaningful conversation we had.
                 Scott Archer Moore, my brother, my best friend, my momma and daddy’s boy, my brothers and sisters’ sibling, was pronounced dead at the scene after the truck he was driving, under the influence of ALCOHOL, left the road and struck a tree.  I drive by this tree two or three times per week, a constant reminder of the devastating effects of alcohol.  The next few days were kind of a blur, but one thing that stands out to me was what someone said to me, “well, maybe it was just Scott’s time”. He was just trying to say something to try to bring me comfort, but I remember thinking, “No, it was NOT Scott’s time!”  It couldn’t be. You see, even though God knew the decision Scott would make that would result in his death, God had nothing to do with his death!  John 10:10 says, “the thief cometh not but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy”…  Satan’s ultimate goal is to bring death and destruction, and alcohol is a major weapon in his success.
                On January 23, 1995, my mother’s birthday, we buried Scott.  It was so cold.  After the funeral a few of us went to hang a wreath on the tree where he wrecked.  While we were there it started snowing. It was so cold! How do I remember the details?  The same way we remember the details of where we were at on 9-11 or December 7, 1941, or November 22, 1963.
                As it is with the death of any loved one, life goes on, but it is never the same.  Not a day goes by that I don’t think about him and I know I’m not alone.  For 21 years my mother has had to celebrate her birthday on the anniversary of the day we buried her son.  I kind of find it ironic that Butler County will vote on the legal sales of alcohol five days after my family goes through yet another year of missing Scott.  Unfortunately, this is just one story of thousands…perhaps millions. And every family that has experienced the pain, suffering, and heartache that goes along with the tragedies like this can sum it up in one word…alcohol!!  I am convinced if Butler County goes wet on January 26, 2016 and alcohol becomes more readily available the number of these tragedies will only rise!
                I can assure you, January 26, 2016 will be a day we all remember in one way or another. My prayer is that it will be remembered as a day the people of Butler County defeated a measure that would’ve changed the face of our small, tight knit community for the worse!  I respectfully ask you to vote NO to the sale of alcohol on January 26th!!
Thank you,
Woody Moore