Scot left us early Sunday morning, but when I pulled up to Metro Cafe today, I found him still here
Monday, May 20, 2013 at 10:23PM ;)
Late this afternoon, as I pulled into Metro Cafe, I was surprised to see the coffee shop's trademark Metro car parked in front of me by the entrance, and the trademark Metro van parked on the other side of the lot by the exit. Of course, it has been the tradition at Metro for Scot to park these vehicles outside the coffee shop as soon as the weather starts to turn warm. Despite the snow and cold of the weekend, today was sunny, the temperature reached up into the 50's and most of the remaining snow melted, so you might think this should not have surprised me at all.
But it did. Scot Starheim, the brilliant, creative, enterprising, relentlessly hard working, yet giving, loving, husband and father who built Metro Cafe and rebuilt the Metro vehicles, passed away peacefully Sunday at 1:46 AM in the presence of his wife and family. I am told his brothers parked the Metro vehicles here for him.
;)
Barista Krisitina, just before closing time today in Metro Cafe. It was quiet at that moment. No customers. Just her, me and Greg. Except for Sundays, when Metro is closed, every day from April 30 on I have, as usual, pulled up to the Metro Cafe window to be greeted by one or more of Carmen's four baristas, but never by Carmen. I have missed her. It has been sad not to see her here.
She was at the hospital with Scot, standing vigil 24 hours a day, seven days a week, with her sister Theresa always present and with other family members from both sides coming in, too. Carmen knew if she opened the door to Scot's room to those other than family, well-wishers would flock in by the drove, so she limited visits mostly to family only. She turned off her phone.
One day, I could not stand it. I felt I had to communicate with them in some small way so they would know I cared, but I did not want to intrude into family space, either. So I decided I would stop at the hospital, write a note and leave it at the nurses' station to be given to them.
As I wrote the note, Carmen suddenly appeared at my side. Her father had been in the lobby with her mother when I came in and he told her I was there. She greeted me with a warm and tearful hug, then took me back to Scot's room where she, Theresa and one of Scot's brothers watched over him. He slept the whole time I was there, but I am glad I went. That little visit meant a great deal to me.
I have often pondered how, one day I drove down Lucille Street, saw that the old "Dog Wash" had been torn down and something new was coming up. Then, suddenly, there was a coffee shop with two antique cars parked outside. I drove up, bought a coffee, just as you would expect me to do and, as no one would expect, struck up some deep friendships.
;)
Ever since Metro opened four years ago this coming July, I had thought Greg and Scot had known each other for a long time. This was because just about every time I saw Scot, I also saw Greg - whether it be in the coffee shop, at Scot's house, at his shop where he rebuilt his beautiful red Corvette or out in the back working on the magnificent gold mining and dredging machine Scot invented and built.
Today, Greg told me he actually met Scot and Carmen on the very same day I did - the day Metro Cafe opened. Right after that, he went to work in the cafe for Carmen but Scot also saw how Greg liked to work with his hands, to build and tinker as he did. He recognized a kindred soul and so took him under his wing and hired him to work with him in his oil spill response business on the Slope and on whatever other projects he took up.
Now, Scot has left Greg with a number of tasks to finish up - including to refurbish the interior of the Metro van parked out there, beyond the window.
;)
Scot was a tough, tough, man. He was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer not long after Metro opened. The odds against him were high but not impossible. He suffered through his treatments and fought his cancer to remission.
But then it came back again. He was expected to die last winter. When I left, first for Hawaii at the end of January and then to Nuiqsut and Barrow for Kivgiq in February, it sounded like he would likely be gone by the time I got back. But he wasn't. He was hurting, but he was up and around, working, driving back and forth from Metro.
Last month, despite the odds, he was making plans to take Carmen and Branson on a cross-country vacation this coming summer. They would start out in Florida and drive by motor home from there. At the beginning of the week that began a month ago, the doctors said he would likely be gone by Wednesday. But he wasn't.
As he always had to that point, Scot proved himself to be a much hardier individual than medical science could measure.
On April 28, I attended Branson's First Communion at Sacred Heart Catholic Church and posted a two-part spread. I did it for Scot, in the hope that in some small way, my blog account might help him experience vicariously this important event in the life of his son and family.
I originally built the post to end on this photo of Scot holding Branson at his baptism seven years earlier - but I couldn't. It looked too much like a memorial photo. I did not want Scot to see it and think I was memorializing him already.
Now, a memorial is appropriate.
Branson, I need not tell you how deeply your father loved you. You felt his love when he held you at the moment this picture was taken, you experienced this love every time he took you to hockey, when he taught you to drive a four wheeler and let you help him park the Metro Vans. You know. You will always know, not withstanding the deep pain. I was always impressed by how in face and feature, you look just like your dad, but are graced with your mother's beautiful Mexican complexion.
I was also impressed by how grown up you sometimes seemed when you were helping your dad with some task, like last spring, when you helped your dad park and secure the Metro vehicles at this very time of year. Now your mom is greatly going to need help from this grown up side of you.
And Carmen - I have no words. With the help of your husband, you have added so much beauty, fun and wonder to Wasilla in a way no one in this community had ever experienced before. Scot is gone now, but through you, Branson and Metro Cafe, he will long remain here with us.
Margie, I and all our family send our condolences. You are all in our hearts and prayers.
Reader Comments (14)
I am so very sorry, Bill. Through your words, over the years, I have grown to know this family, and have prayed for Scott's health and peace. May all who knew and loved Scott find comfort in the fellowship of love that will surround them now and forever.
I too am sitting here in tears. Oh, Carmen -- there are so many of us who know you through this blog that are thinking about and praying for you and your family today. Thank you, Bill, for introducing us to so many wonderful people in Alaska and telling their stories.
Carmen, Branson and family, I send my love and sympathy. Thank you Bill for doing this memorial of a wonderful man who so loved his family and this community. RIP Scott.
This is photojournalism at its best. My deepest sympathies to Scot's family and friends, whose love will enrich their lives forever.
Oh, NO! Oh, I am so very, very sorry! Please tell Carmen that I am sending her huge hugs from New Mexico. From A Former Customer (Mocha and biscotti and a treat for my dog)
Carmon, I came to know and love your family through Bill's blog (bless you Bill). My words can't express how very sorry I am for your tremendous loss. All I can do is send my prayers, and love to you & Branson & wish you nothing but peace & loving memories of your wonderful husband. He WAS such a remarkable and loving man.
As others have expressed, I feel like I know Scott, Carmen and Branson. Your words have expressed what I feel and are a testimony to a family who has brought so much to you, your local community and the world community via cyberspace .
As happenstance has it, just prior to checking your blog, I stopped by another blog only to find out that that person's father had just passed away, after a 2 year illness. She was as eloquent as you have been, Bill.
Carmen and Branson, you are in our thoughts. May the happy memories comfort you as you navigate your future.
Debbie in California
Carmen, you are in our thoughts....Love and Strength to you and Branson.... I will pray you all find Peace..
Go in peace...condolences to the family.
I agree with Wendy, this is photojournalism at it's finest.
Carmen and Branson you are in our thoughts.
Bill, thank you for bringing this to us.
Thank you for sharing this Bill. Carmen, if you read here I am so sorry for your loss. Your shop is the brightest spot on Lucille and I'm so thankful for the beautiful establishment that you and Scot created and it will always be a wonderful legacy to remember him by. Please know that many of your customers are thinking of you during this difficult time.
My heart aches for little Branson. I've come to enjoy seeing him in your blog as much as I enjoy seeing your own little crew of wee ones Kalib, Jobe, and little lynx. Just the other day as I was reading about Branson's first communion, I thought what a handsome little man he had become...Prayers and thoughts to both Branson and Carmen. Funny how all this time she was dealing with her husbands illness, yet everytime I would see her in your blog she had such a brilliant smile. Tough Chick.
As your readers said, Bill, thanks for introducing us to this wonderful hard-working family. Scot was a tough fighter, whose spirit will inhabit Metro. Here in suburban Philly, we have a wonderful diner - Daddypops - started by Ken and Karen Smith. Karen died of a brain tumor when she was in her 30s but Ken and the diner are still going strong. Their daughter started another Daddypops in New England, New Hampshire I believe.
I assumed that Scott had done the battle and won. This is a shock to hear. I am sorry for Carmen and Branson, and for all the people affected by this news in your little community.