Scott Willard's John Stories

I have a lot of great John memories. Once, John called me and said he thought it would be a good challenge to go on three dates in one day with three different girls. I accepted and we lined up our six dates for the day. He wanted all three to be really nice dates and I was worried about the money. He told me a display had fallen on him at work and he was awarded a workers compensation check, and he wanted to blow it all on the dates and that he wanted to take care of everything. (He never was a money saver.) Anyway, our mission was accomplished, steak dinners and all. If you have great memories of a dinner date with John . . . his breakfast and lunch dates might have had fun, too :-)

Thinking of our Mount Graham triple date makes me laugh. It was probably around 1995 and I think Ryan Forbes was the other one of us there. John took Kristy. We went up to the Larson cabin for the day. It was winter and snowing, and we were "well prepared" with a really old 2WD boat of a car. John brought a little VCR/TV that plugged into the car cigarette lighter and we watched a movie wrapped in blankets on the couch in the cabin. John fell asleep during the movie and woke up at the end, very concerned. "I was going to start the car to recharge the battery halfway through the movie." Needless to say, the battery was dead.

Turns out it can be tough to find someone to jumpstart your car on Mt. Graham in the winter, but I think we were home before midnight.

John spent all summer one year working for his uncle in Prescott. I went up to spend a few days with him and we went out bowling with some girls he knew up there. We had been dropped off and he planned on us walking home. Even though he spent the summer there, he didn't know the way. I pointed north to the hill where his uncle's house was and said, "Why don't we just walk that way until we get there." He was unsure and insisted we walk east to the roads he was familiar with. 13 miles later, we arrived tired and ready to sleep at his uncle's house. . . 6 miles from the bowling alley.

John was once very outspoken in his hatred of country music. So, I was surprised to walk into his house one day and find him laying on the floor listening to country music, soaking it up like it was the greatest music he had ever listened to. I asked him why the change. You can all guess, "There's this cowgirl I met in Prescott. . ."

My parents should thank John. I was driving their minivan while simultaneously involved in a "thumb war" with Taffery Twiggs (Lowry) and kind of forgot to pay attention to the road (I didn't want to lose the thumb war). John screamed my name and I swerved back towards the road, but not before smashing a curb pretty hard. The tire was ruined, but without his warning we probably would have hit the light pole instead of just the curb.

John had a way of thinking of interesting things to do, I don't know where he came up with them. One of our more bizarre double dates was when we went to Deer Valley Park and finger painted four full-body painting suits, complete with hoods and footsies. Then, each of us put on the suit painted by our date and walked around the park, hoods, footsies and all.

Thoughts

John went through phases. There are times when I felt like I knew him, and times when he seemed like a stranger. But, I could always count on him. For all his faults, there was nobody quicker to serve, and serve at all costs, than him. He was my first best friend, since the early primary years. We went to cub scouts and boy scouts together. He and I spent a week at "Spade Ranch" horseback riding and rappelling together. We were side-by-side for the polar bear swims at Geronimo, and he was a close confidant during late into the night conversations during sleepovers. We toilet-papered dozens of houses together. There were walks to Zia Records, and even a 2 a.m. Dunkin Donuts run - on foot 4 miles round trip.

I was there when he broke his collar bone. It was me sharing a tent with him when Marcotte collapsed the tent and threatened to throw us in the river if we didn't wake up. I was there when he put his cousin's rat halfway into his mouth. I was there when he dove off of cliffs so high the rest of us didn't even want to go feet first. And, yes I was there when he swam across a partially frozen lake in sub-freezing temperatures.

College, missions, distance, and our family lives separated us from close friendship in recent years, as often happens with childhood friends. But he occupies a permanent place in my memories and is a part of who I am today. His face can be seen throughout my photo albums in locations from Caborca, Mexico to Moab and Salt Lake City, Utah. He didn't tend to refer to me by nickname (Squanto), preferring to just call me Scott.

Oh, and if you ever see me poke my kids' sides to tickle them while making this weird velociraptor face, just know that the spirit & influence of John Larson lives on.