Kevin Scott Pridmore

The pictures we all have in our minds of Scott Pridmore are the ones that make our hearts all the more blown apart as we contemplate a way forward — smiling, goofy, crazy, handsome, loving, full of life.

Always.

Scott, our beloved dad and husband, uncle, brother and friend, died on Sunday, Nov. 24, 2024, in a tragic accident. He was 62.

Larger than life, gregarious, mischievous, Scott created a lifetime of memorable moments that those who knew and loved him can hold on to in the coming days and weeks.

Most of all, he made a life with his family and friends that was filled with love and laughter and jokes and generosity. (We will probably never know how many people he gave emergency funds to, almost always without anyone needing to ask.)

His wife, Helen, and daughters, Chase and Cara, loved loved loved this man. And he loved them back so big.

Scott’s outsized personality permeated every aspect of his life , whether he was working out a sign deal as vice president and sales director of Mid-South Signs, rocking out in his local band Ian Faith or patiently teaching dozens of kids at Smith Lake how to ski, tube, JetSki or wakeboard.

Mr. Scott, they called him. (And truth be told, many adults did as well. He was so good and dear and generous to so many people.)

Let’s linger on that beautiful aspect of Scott’s life. The lake.

It was always his dream to have a lake house where he could walk onto a boat off a dock and have all the water toys a man could want. But his dream wasn’t just for him.

He wanted his girls to grow up at a place where they learned all the right moves in a wake behind a speeding boat as he encouraged them to be ever fiercer and fearless. But he also taught them how to be responsible and considerate boaters. A perfect blend of Scott and Helen, deftly folded into a “Lake Life” culture that will live on, with Scott as its emeritus mischief maker.

Yes, that. Let’s talk about Scott’s unique form of humor. Some might say he was a bit too pointed in his wittiness, putdowns, needling and teasing. Damn, he could push everyone’s buttons and did quite often (just ask Helen, his daughters or any of his coworkers). Delivered with his drawn out Southern accent, his observations and devastating put downs would leave you squirming and gasping, “Wait! Did he just say THAT?!”

Helen was the perfect counterbalance to that and to Scott’s wildly imaginative approach to life. When she met him, she thought, “Hmm, band guy.” And if you know Helen and her love of rock and roll, this was the ultimate equalizer. She could handle this guy.

They would have been married 39 years this coming March.

Rock music was another huge aspect of his life. He, along with his cousin David, formed the band Easy Street in 1977, soon adding Scott Whitaker, Greg Tubb, and later, Brooks Ivey. Although the band went through many iterations — XEZ, Moby Dick (with Billy Peel) and finally, Ian Faith (adding Brady Warren and Johnny Parks) — Scott was always there with a steady beat on his drums and a near genius level of creativity in his designs, marketing and arrangements for the band. His final Ian Faith band mates Scott Hollis and David Pridmore were like brothers to him, and he to them.

As many roles as he played, Scott’s most outstanding one was as a husband and dad to Helen, Chase and Cara. (He was also a de facto dad to so many others, including Helen’s sister, Suzy, and his nephew, Bo.)

They were often a crazy crew when they were all together at the lake. He once created their own version of “Fear Factor” there, where he challenged the girls to eat increasingly disgusting concoctions for ever increasing sums of money. They loved it.

And they loved all of the crazy — though well-intentioned — water slides and creative handlebar swings and other contraptions that his tinkering mind would create.

When traveling abroad, which they did several times as a family, Scott would often go out of his way to embarrass everyone with his antics by doing awkward dancing in front of street bands or donning crazy glasses and speaking in gibberish. Chase’s “tribute” videos of these excursions are priceless.

If you’re reading this and waiting for the obituary part, here it is, reluctantly and with great sorrow.

Scott was preceded in death by his father M.L., his mother, Frances Faye, and his sister, Debbie. He is survived by his stepmother, Elwanda Pridmore, his brother Mark, his brother Patrick, a sister, Melanie, and countless nieces and nephews.

He was a role model and confidante to his two son-in-laws, James Hazard and Ryder Heath.

Friends and relations too numerous to count will also grieve this wonderful man for a lifetime to come.

And let’s not forget Mack, their chocolate Lab, successor to Sam and Gus before him.

Recently, Scott and Helen had been taking trips and indulging their passion for experiencing the joys of life together with just the two of them.

This was from a post Helen made back in the summer, when she and Scott got to see her favorite band, 30 Seconds to Mars:

“Life hack: Pick your bucket list band, find out when they are playing at Red Rocks and book the damn tickets!”

***

A funeral service is planned Wednesday at 3 p.m. at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church.

A celebration of Scott’s life will be held afterward at Huck’s.

For those wanting to honor Scott and his family with a gift reflecting his generosity, please consider a donation to the Columbus-Lowndes Humane Society or Special Needs, Special Spirit, P.O. Box 5387, Columbus, 39704

Larger Than Life

A tribute by Chase Pridmore Hazard read at his service

It’s a common phrase for people to say “to know him is to love him,” but I don’t think that phrase applies to anyone more than it does my father.

It was almost impossible not to love him. Despite how difficult he sometimes made it. He had a talent to him. A way to really get up under your skin and aggravate the shit out of you. But what I came to realize as I grew older, is that was his own little love language. If he loved you he was going to push your buttons to the very edge. And lord do we know he really loved my mom. There’s a reason why they all call her Saint Helen.

Many of you were also lucky enough to be on the receiving end of that quote, unquote love. My dad loved his friends. He loved his family. He viewed a lot of his friends as family. And he could make friends with anyone. He had this remarkable goofy charm about him that drew you to him. And because of that had friends from all walks of life. He didn’t care who you were, where you were from, or how many times you’ve had “run-ins” with the law … which, let’s be honest, he was probably an accomplice to.

Because of that, my father used to tell me growing up “do as I say not as I did” … because he knew it would be impossible for me to not start hearing the famous Scooter Pridmore stories from people around our small town. Typically not any PG-rated stories, as many of you might imagine. When people would find out who my daddy was, I learned early to follow up with “but don’t hold that against me!”…. Especially when it came to Heritage Academy teachers.

And while they may not have held it against me, it became impossible to deny that I was indeed my father’s child. It was a common joke for my dad to say “you must get that from your mother” anytime I made a vulgar gesture or used profanity. And my mom would just give him a look that managed to say exactly what she was thinking.

Into my adulthood my mom would often call us twins. And despite me being a little angry that I inherited his feet, I loved being his twin. We had our own little language and we would bicker, cuss and yell and laugh at ourselves, because it was like fighting with yourself in the mirror. Almost every day he would come by the store on his way home. Sometimes I think he would come by only to aggravate and drive me, my mom and Suzy absolutely crazy … but would give us his little laugh and usually a hug and yell “love ya” before leaving. Which usually would follow with me telling my mom, “I don’t know how you live with him”.

To be fair, my husband probably feels the same way about me most of the time. My dad instilled so many things in me and my sister. Our stubbornness, our work ethic, our inability to stay still, and most of all our humor.

My dad had the best and most unique sense of humor. In fact, when he would give up aggravation for Lent every year, he would substitute it for some extra humor, as he called it. My dad was never afraid to be himself. He could act goofy anywhere and in front of anyone. Which to our advantage, has provided our family with a lifetime of joy and laughter.

It’s hard to feel lucky right now. But I know our family is lucky. We are lucky to be so close. And to love each other so fiercely. We loved spending time together and taking trips where my dad provided us with endless entertainment. We have a lifetime worth of memories with him. Even though a million lifetimes wouldn’t be enough.

I could go on for hours, maybe days, telling stories of my father. He was the best. The best husband to my mom. The best dad to Cara and I. And I know he would have made the best grandfather to his first grandchild come this summer.

We grieve for this time we have lost with him. But I know he lives on through me, my mom and sister, through my Uncle Mark and all of our family. Through my sweet husband, James. And Cara’s husband, Ryder. And through many of you.

Our family thanks you all for your kind words and prayer. And we appreciate you all being here to celebrate my one-of-a-kind Daddy.