Scott Stapp - Special Edition

Creed Worldwide

I was sitting on the floor one day trying to see how far I could stick my finger up my nose. I was bored. I had already colored a beautiful picture for my mom and just finished up my box of animal crackers when I hear a loud beating noise on the other side of the room. I looked and saw this kid hammering a yellow Tonka truck violently against the wall. I had to have that truck. It was a dump truck, and every little boy has to have a yellow Tonka dump truck. I had just gotten a new pair of shoes, and everyone knows that a new pair of shoes makes you run faster. All I had to do was run by, lightening fast, take the truck, and it would be mine. So I ran and grabbed the truck, but the kid wouldn't let go. We struggled for a minute, pulling and pushing with all our might. I thought I had it, but suddenly the kid jerked it away and began to beat me over the head with it. That hurt. In desperation, I used my secret weapon, fingernails, and dug them into his face. That only made the scuffle worse. Before I knew it, we were both crying and in big trouble.

That was how I met Scott Stapp. Needless to say our parents were told of the incident and wouldn't you know it, they liked each other. My parents actually forced me to hang out with this kid. So the friendship began. I was four, he was five, we both had only sisters and hated girls. He became the brother I never had.

Boy, I sure could tell you some funny stories about Scott. One time after we watched Mary Poppins, Scott tried to talk me into climbing on his roof with an umbrella and jumping off. No way!! I was not doing that. It was a movie. People can't fly, but he really believed we could fly. Up he went, umbrella in hand, determined to prove to me that he could fly like Mary Poppins. Off he jumped and down he fell, smack on the ground.

Another time after watching our favorite movie, Superman, he got two towels and two clothespins. Then he tried to talk me into jumping out of a tree with him. Is this kid nuts? Doesn't he remember Mary Poppins? I guess not. Up he went, and down he quickly fell. This attempt required a hospital visit. Scott just couldn't get it through his head that men were not supposed to fly. To this day he still thinks he can fly.

As we grew, there were many more experiences to be had, and Scott wanted all of them. He always had a knack for getting us in trouble. Being the good friends we were, we routinely blamed each other for everything we got caught doing. Even though we always used the other to save our own butt, like brothers, we never held a grudge. We did everything together and one beautiful day we discovered girls.

Scott is a hopeless romantic, and the first time I ever noticed Scott could sing was in the fifth grade. He had a crush on this girl and was desperately trying to get her attention. I watched him scribbling something on a piece of paper, but I didn't know what it was. Apparently it was his first song. Off he went to sing to her. It's funny how when you know someone as long as I have known Scott you can compare childhood memories with the present. The look on his face when he did his first performance to that little girl reminds me of the face I see now, passionate, sincere, inspired, and yet still the look of a little boy. At the time I thought he was weird. I mean what ten-year-old writes songs? What ten-year-old sings to girls? I guess I now know what he was preparing for, but then I just couldn't understand. So his road to being an artist began, and what a rocky road he chose.

Singing always came really easy for Scott; it was just a natural ability. A lot of things come easy for him though. He was one of those guys who was good at everything. You know, the one you hated. In high school he played baseball, basketball, football, and still managed to get good grades. Don't ever tell him this, but I always looked up to him a little. He was so driven. We went to different high schools, but every weekend we were at the hip, and still looking for trouble. I remember we went wandering through the streets of down town Orlando. Naturally, the freedom of the street always leads to trouble, or was it Scott who found the trouble? Don't get me wrong, we were good kids, just very curious. That curiosity would always leads us to places we weren't supposed to be, abandoned buildings, back allies, roof tops. The nights usually ended with Scott and me running as fast as we could from a security guard. We had done nothing but wander around, but rent-a-cops need excitement. A good chase probably made them feel like they were doing their job. Usually, on our way home we would go to this lake near my house and sit on the dock. Sometimes we just stared at the stars and talked about what we would be when we grew up. It's interesting to think about those nights now, because Scott would always tell me he was going to be famous one day. I would just listen and say things like, "Yea, OK, and you can fly to, huh?" I wasn't trying to be mean, but what are you supposed to say when someone says that to you? To be honest, deep down I really wanted him to be famous too.

During this time the only thing I remember about him musically was that he could impersonate anyone on the radio. I mean it was scary how close he could make his voice sound to the original singer. Having a guy like that around was a good way to impress girls. It worked like a charm, meet two girls, talk for awhile, have Scott sing, get their phone number. Just like that! Isn't it crazy the lengths a boy will go to impress a girl? We did some stupid things, but looking back I think we had a pretty good time.

As many teenagers do at this age, Scott began to have the family problems. Without going into detail, I know he felt really oppressed by his situation. I remember he left home once, and lived in my closet for about two weeks. We couldn't let my parents find out because they would call his parents. Every night he got in by sneaking through the window. He slept on the closet floor with the door shut in case my parents walked in. I have never really asked my parents, but I am pretty sure they knew he was there. I think they felt bad for his situation. Scott just wanted to be able to be himself, be an individual, have the freedom to think, and develop his own ideas. That seems to be very typical of how we all felt back then and still do now.

Soon came college, and it appeared that my buddy and I would be going our separate ways for awhile. Scott was off to a small college in Tennessee, and I was off to Florida State. Scott was very excited about college because he really yearned to learn new philosophies. He was always a thinker, and craved new ideas. Scott was searching for something, but he didn't quite know what it was.

About six months later after we started college, I got a call from Scott, and things weren't going to be good. He was leaving college because he felt restricted there. The desire to be a free thinker was not highly accepted at his school, and Scott was causing such a stir, they had asked him to leave. I think it was his first step towards Creed. By now, writing had really become an important part of his life. So off he went, back to Orlando.

O-Town was just what he needed! This is where his love of rock and roll was born. I got a call one-day from Scott. He was dating this "hippie-chick" as he called her. He went to tell me about all the rock shows she took him to, and all the new music she introduced him to. He was finally in his element. After years of trying to figure out why he wrote poetry, why he sang, why he had this unquenchable desire to experience life, now it was all clear to me: "Rock and Roll, baby!" The only problem was that Scott did not know any musicians, or how to meet them. I know he looked hard in Orlando, but nothing seemed to feel right. Scott called me one day to ask if he could come crash on my couch for awhile in Tallahassee. I thought it was a great idea! My best bud and I could hang again. So off I went to help him move his stuff. We fit his whole life in the trunk of my car. He jumped on his motorcycle, and off we went to what would become the birthplace of CREED.

It's all down hill from there. Scott met Mark soon after and the rest is history. Scott never fails to remind me that he told me years ago this would happen. I still don’t think he really knew, but I guess that when you want something so bad, you make it happen. It amazes me when I think about how little decisions made such a difference in the big picture. Sometimes I still can't believe what has happened to my friend.

Remember that story about Scott thinking he could fly, and I said he was crazy? Well, he has finally convinced me that I can fly too.

Thanks Scott for being such a good friend and giving me music that feeds my soul.

.Thad Thompson