On June 14, 2025 Walter Scott Bower III passed away exactly where he wanted to be, in his home with his namesake, Scotty by his side. Preceded in death by his wife Barbara Henneke Bower, father Walter Scott Bower II (Babe), mother Lois Dee Bower (Buga) and his sister Elisabeth Anne Ames (Widdy). Survived by his four children Lois Bower Bjornson (Dave), Rena Bower, Walter Scott Bower IV (Kelly), John Andrew Bower and his nine grandchildren: Tony, Nels, Andrew, Kylan, Gunnar, Grace, Johnny, Odessa and Mary.

Born February 9, 1938 he was raised in Fredericktown PA where he lived in his family hotel. He was a graduate of East Bethlehem High School and earned both a geology and education degree at Waynesburg College and his doctorate in education at Ohio State University… Dad had an enjoyable 35 year career as a professor at West Virginia University where he made many lifelong friends. A college professor he was, but that's not nearly all he was.

The photographer: He was born with a beautifully artistic eye which was expressed through his love of photography. He took beautiful pictures of the most ordinary of things. His main focus was always on the children that surrounded him. He was seen most often with a camera in his hand, ignoring everything and everyone except what he was looking at.

The historian/writer: He spent a large part of his life doing research. Researching everything that interested him and he did it the hard way, with a pencil and leg work - the internet was a myth of the future. He traveled around to libraries, historical societies, and cemeteries, oftentimes, taking one of his children with him.

He first began with the town where he was born and raised, writing down everything he found and finally sharing a book with the town during our Bicentennial celebration. He then began researching his own family history, spending decades researching and writing what he found doing his best to fill in any blanks. Many books were created from this endeavor - these he shared with his children.

We grew up knowing that we were living in the house built by John Bower in 1806, having been sometimes dragged on the research missions - all so we would know where we came from. We literally grew up in and around history.

His canoe: A constant companion and his preferred form of water travel, ever secured to the top of his van, traveling across the country with whoever he chose to be with him. Just something he wanted to try and soon fell in love with. He researched Indian water trails, canoe camps and rivers best suited for that type of travel and he visited them all. He had a true love for a contemplative Journey that allowed you to just breathe.

His bicycle: his favorite mode of travel by land was on two wheels with pedals in between. Often seen riding around town, he spent most of his trips on bike trails with a good restaurant at the end. My mom participated in many of these trips - the free meal at the end, that she didn't have to cook, I believe, was the real enticement for her.

The traveler: A traveler of the American Countryside including a three-month trip to Alaska and also two adventures into England. A connoisseur of cheese and good bread for which he was willing to travel hundreds of miles to find the good stuff. A careful driver, to put it nicely. To his children an immeasurable amount of hours stuck in a car that by the time you were able to exit the vehicle you were so glad to get out that you didn't care where you were. It was a true test of patience and endurance that could drive a kid to the edge of lunacy. A claim of hunger as a reason to stop was met by an apple and a fresh roll being tossed your way.

Let's face it, he was one of a kind. Different than all those around him. He definitely marched to his own personal drummer. As children if we heard a whistle, you knew you were in trouble. A "talking to" we never received. It was a whistle and The Chair. The chair we had to sit on, in silence, for what seemed like forever. He didn't help you with your homework because that was your job, but if you didn't understand a word he would explain it to you until you knew it better than your own name. He would be angry that you dug a hole, but stand with you with tears in his eyes while you buried a beloved pet. An avid reader that tried to share his love of books with his children, but it really only took, with one of them. He gave the most thoughtful of gifts, customized for the person he was giving it to. He carried a map of the United States in his head that he could pull out on a whim directing you in places he hadn't been for a decade. He could ignore you while you were in the same room with him, while at the same time dutifully eating the Santa treat that was left for him. Of course, at the Bower house, there was no milk and cookies for Santa. Santa was sick of milk and cookies by the time he got to our house - or so Dad told us. We believed him; for at the Bower house, Santa got cheese, crackers and a beer. One of a Kind indeed.

With a loaf of bread, a wedge of cheese and a bag of apples beside him, he readies himself for the journey ahead. Scanning for humans or any vehicles in his immediate vicinity, he ever so carefully pulls his car onto the road. As we watch, an unfortunate car comes barreling (as dad would see it) down the hill and gets behind him. We see dad's car suddenly jerk violently to the side of the road, coming to a slamming stop. The car passes. And slowly he scans his environment again and pulls onto the road, middle fingers flying, he greets all who come near. And slowly, ever so slowly, he creeps down the road and out of our sight, and onto his next adventure.

Friends are welcome to attend a memorial gathering from 3 to 7 p.m. Friday June 20, 2025 in the Greenlee's Fredericktown Funeral Home LTD.  42 Bank St at Crawford Rd. Fredericktown, PA.  A graveside service will be held at 11:00 a.m.  Saturday in the Fredericktown Cemetery.  An online guestbook is available at www.GreenleeFuneralHome .com