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A Tribute to Scott Mackler by Michael Bobrick (Beta Pi 1977)

Scott was a brother unlike any other; his humor and wit were unmatched.

He could light up a room like a living cartoon to which magnetic charm was attached.

Truly one of a kind, with such a sharp mind, and a smile that would spread ear to ear.

He could fart on command, shoot for 3 with one hand, and raise hell with or without beer.

He’d chug a beer in a flash, pound his mug with a crash, then recharge it in one easy motion.

At drinking games he excelled, but he did everything well, his life was a unique blend of success and devotion.

After graduating from Penn, I’d see him every now and then at alumni events and the like.

We were bonded together, forever and ever, by our time at the house known as Pike.

Then came that fateful day that now seems so far away, when he shared his life altering news--

Lou Gehrig’s disease diagnosed, for a moment life froze; a matter of time for those who loved him the most.

But in typical fashion, Scott’s outlook was bright, he remained optimistic in spite of his plight.

He spent time with his family, he reached out to his friends, he put life in perspective knowing one day it would end.

And unlike the majority of ALS patients, Scott continued to live life to the fullest, despite limitations.

It didn’t take long for his motor skills to decline, but the cruel disease that afflicted him could not slow his mind.

With the love and support of his family and friends, Scott continued his neurological research at Penn.

With the help of some high tech experimental equipment, his mind stayed active for years, and his fight from within overcame so many fears.

I  visited with Scott last month at the Mackler 5k, the 14th Annual ALS fund raising event that bears his name.

I’ve been there before, even brought my kids once or twice, somehow just being in Scott’s presence for a few hours made me feel nice.

The celebratory nature of that 5k event was an uplifting human experience whenever I went.

This year in particular, I’m so glad I was there, allowing one last opportunity to let Scott know I care.

Of course it wasn’t just me, there were so many others, including several generations of his Pi Kappa Alpha brothers.

And now that he’s passed, his memory lives on, as a shining example of what it means to be strong.

I’ll always admire Scott’s courage and grace, and the way he fought through adversity to finish life’s race.