USA First Lady Dr. Jill Biden and Second Gentleman Doug Emhoff

Dear First Lady Sarah Stitt,
Scotty was born January 10, 1989. Our son was full of love. He said, “Everybody should love one
another the same.” I’ve been told, “Everyone who knows Scotty loves Scotty, and everyone
knows Scotty!” He never tried to overshadow anyone but made everybody else’s light shine.
From a trampoline injury to football and hockey wounds, small pain pills helped. That grew. Scotty
was a valued asset for several years at Go Fresh in Tulsa. They treated him like family.
He was a talented musician. He left us nine songs he wrote and sang. He was a lyricist and
creative artist, specializing in graffiti. Skateboarding was a hobby for him growing up. He was now
just beginning the best chapter of his life.
He finally made it back home to Tulsa and was happy because he was near his friends whom he
cherished until his last breath. We were roommates for his last five years, so I know a lot about
his habits as an adult. I saw his struggles and his courage as he quit heroin and fentanyl cold
turkey. He won the last two years and two months of his life. He won!
Scotty was the friend who had everyone’s back, even when they were wrong. Several have told
me he was always there with the right thing to say to encourage and uplift. He was happiest when
he was with good friends. He enjoyed going to concerts with them.
We had traditions. On our birthday we’d take the others to Red Lobster for dinner. He loved his
Chevy Impala SS. I helped him buy it as a project car. We named her Cecilia after his grandfather,
Rev. Cecil Hurt, 33rd degree. Scotty was the lead singer in a garage band. They used our
garage, but I can’t remember the name of the band. I just know that I knew where he was, and I
knew he was safe.
Years bring change. Scotty dealt with deep depression from childhood traumas and feeling his
friends didn’t really love him. He went deeper within himself. They loved him but weren’t as
supportive in action. In public, he put on a smile. Even at his lowest, he was there for friends who
needed a shoulder or kind words. He didn’t understand that not everyone is as actively loving as
he. Agape Love shone from him like a bright light.
Scotty was very photogenic, and he never missed a photo op. He was so smart. Although, he only
made good grades when he wanted to. I learned just how smart he was when he was living with
me as a roommate, budgeting bills, designing living spaces, and cooking things. It was a nice
surprise.
We are asking for your support and recognition of our loved ones. Please consider memorializing
all of those lost to fentanyl and the drug epidemic in Oklahoma, on a Memorial Wall.
I could write about Scotty all day, but I’ll end with this. My life is gone. I’ll never be the same. The
one who loved me was ripped away. It’s a life sentence.
Dianna Hurt Carlyle – Scotty’s mom; forever 33
Tulsa, Oklahoma
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