Scott Wesberg

John Scott Westberg died unexpectedly in New Orleans on Nov. 15, 1995. He was 44.

Scott majored in chemical engineering and wrote his thesis under the guidance of Prof. Irvin Glassman. After graduation he worked for Westvaco; consequently he attended business school, and then worked at McKinsey in New Jersey. He later moved to St. Louis, where he was employed by Price Waterhouse in their consulting organization; he then went on to form his own business.

Scott is survived by his wife, Dorothy, his daughter, Taryn, his son, Broen, and his parents, Mr. and Mrs. Marvin Westberg

I remember Scott from senior year informing me that my boyfriend Mike was seeing his sister Jeff at CSU. Scott and I went out after that. Pretty interesting situation (as he noted in my yearbook.)

Sheryl Emery Ogden

I will never forget the shock and sadness I felt when I heard of Scott’s passing so long ago. He and I shared many common interests and a huge amount of time during our high school years. He was a smart kid who loved Iron Butterfly and Derrick and the Dominoes. Academics and sports came easy to him. He changed from a gangly (and a little awkward) Sophmore, into a gifted Baseball player by 1969. He went on to play college ball at Princeton, and did well. He also picked up the sport of soccer quickly and contributed a lot to the AHS team in our senior year. But my clearest and best memories of Scott were away from school activities. In summers, legion ball players played a lot of golf. I remember Scott as always being there. He was good. I remember him making a double-eagle at Wellshire GC in ’68, which is very rare even for the pros. I remember poker nights at Bob Silverman’s house. Scott didn’t usually win, but then neither did I. I remember camping and fishing near Steamboat Springs with Mike Coleman, Scott, and Bob. We fished a little, and engaged in other activities 17 year-old guys pursued when away from home. Scott was a bit of a goofy drunk, but added a lot to the personality of our circle of friends. That trip was great fun that ended abruptly when I got into a fender-bender in my Dad’s jeep (no alcohol, thankfully). He and I also took an amazing two-week road trip after our Freshman year in college. Actually, Paul Christy planned the trip, but had to drop out. My brother Hugh (’68), Dave Buffington (’70), Scott and I drove to Lake Tahoe; San Fransisco; up the coast to Vancouver, BC; and then Cour de Alene, ID. My Dad was pleased we were taking Scott’s van. It was way too ambitious of an itinerary, but we met some amazing people, and it was (I believe) the perfect celebration of young men coming of age. He and I stayed in touch for a few years, but our lives went different directions. His parents came to my wedding in ’78, and brought me up to date on Scott’s life. The next time I heard news of Scott, it was the worst kind of news. I regret that I never met Dot or his kids. I hope they had thousands of care-free and exuberant moments with Scott, like those I remember when we were young. My apologies for the length of this remembrance. It wrote itself and was cathartic for me.

Scott Parker