Scott Gale Loney

 In Loving Memory

Scott Gale Loney was born April 20th, 1964 to Sharon Gainer, and Charles Loney. Brother to Chuck Loney, and best friend and neighbor to me. He passed away in peace, on May 11th, 2025, not even a month after his 61st birthday. He lived in Smallwood Apartments in Hillsboro. 

I think we moved in about the same time, around 11 years ago, he may have been here before me. He lived upstairs from me, next to another mutual friend, Dan. I wasn't close to the tenant next-door before him, his disability made it difficult to get close to him. And Scott moved in because he wanted a first floor unit.

Immediately we were friends. And then Dan passed away unexpectedly. Both of us grieved for Dan, he was a good friend. Scott and I soon became best of friends. I work mostly from home, so I started knocking on his door on my breaks sometimes, hanging out after work, or he'd come over to my place. I am an avid movie fan and I'm really into smart home tech and vintage poster design. Scott loved what I had done with my apartment, and it turned out that he was into the same things. He liked watching movies with me, and he had a lot of vintage stuff at his place too. Old movie posters, vintage Coca-Cola signage, Marilyn Monroe pictures and a shelf full of nostalgia from the last 60 years or so. He loved the smart home tech I had, especially the lights, and for Christmas last year, I gave him a set of lights for his TV. He absolutely loved them! A little skittish at first on how to control them, but I set it up on his phone and taught him how to control them. 

What set Scott apart was what a loyal friend he was, even from the beginning. Scott was the kind of approachable person you wanted as a neighbor, and an easy person to be friends with. He was a friend of most of the people who lived in our complex. Always giving of himself, if someone needed something. On the flipside, he hated asking people, or depending on people, for help with stuff. For me that was never an issue. I learned long ago, when I was a kid, how to be a good neighbor, how to foster that relationship into a strong friendship, from my mother. She spent most of her life battling one major illness after the other and hated asking for help. But our neighbor Patti, was always there for her, like a sister. That is how I'd like to remember Scott, as a brother, not just a friend or neighbor.

Scott was easy to get along with. We would watch movies every night, and/or TV shows. Neither one of us had cable, but I would get movies online almost daily, and TV shows. Mostly older stuff, like within the last 20-30 years, but a lot of the new stuff too. Some of the craziest stuff. A lot of times, I'd get a movie for us to watch just to make fun of it. It was great. Plus I had Netflix and other services too. He relied on me to help him set things up. I set up his TVs, his phone, his lights and Bluetooth devices for him. 

I think the hardest thing for me, and those who loved him, will be not seeing him around. For me, not having my movie buddy around. He was a wonderful son to Sharon, and brother to Chuck. He stayed in touch with them very closely. His last year was the most challenging for him with his medical conditions. He was in a lot of pain and even more so frustration, but I know he is in a better place now, and no longer in pain. Scott will be missed, but never forgotten.

Romans 12:10 - "Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor." 

Faith Like a Child

"Dear God, surround me as I speak..."

 I've been a blogger now for over eight years. I've written many articles that have touched many lives, provided entertainment, and encouragement. What I'm about to write will hopefully be the most profound thing I'll ever write.

IN THE BEGINNING

I went to a Baptist church when I was a kid. I was baptized when I was 11. At my baptism, I was asked to give my testimony. I regaled a time when I was three years old, my mother taught me how to get into Heaven. She said, "all you need to do is ask Jesus to come into your heart." Three years old. How could I have understood what all that meant? Faith like a child.

It wasn't until many years later that I really became a Christian. I said the prayer many times; confessed my sins many times; asked for forgiveness about a million times, but it wasn't until I was 41 that I learned to surrender, and truly have faith like a child.

I had the benefit of being born into a good Christian home. Not everybody has that chance. But like most children I learned to mute it out after a while. I saw so much good and so much bad at my church. Eventually the bad consumed the good and left me with a lot of bad and uncomfortable feelings.

I've had a hard time with churches my entire life. Youth groups were always hard because of my social anxiety and general awkwardness, but moreover, they were composed mostly of the same kids that picked on me and made fun of me at school. I was always the outcast. In the winter of 1989, my freshman year in high school, our church took a ski trip. My mother insisted I go, in fact, most of my Christmas presents that year were for skiing. I had, not even one friend on that trip. On the ride up, I sat next to the pastor who told me I was talking to him too much and asked me to stop talking. On the slopes, I was all by myself, never having skied before. There were a few seniors that were teaching us to ski.

THE BIG MOVE

When we moved to Oregon, there were surprisingly no bullies. We went to a different church every week, searching for the right fit. Eventually I just got so sick of it, I stopped going altogether, for multiple reasons. I've never really started going like we did when I was a kid again.

My senior year of high school, I started developing depression and PTSD from all the bullies back home in California. I started therapy and treatment. That summer after my senior year was the worst summer ever. I had so much anger in me that it prevented me from enjoying myself, enjoying my life. In 2000 I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder II. The definition is confusing, but basically, to me, that means you are more prone to depression vs. manic episodes. Such pain. My life spun out of control; going down, down, down to the eventual bottom. I applied for social security twice, and was denied twice.

FAILING FORWARD

I went from job, to job, to job. I'd start, then I'd get fired, sometimes for reasons not even disclosed to me. And I lived all over the place:  with my parents until I was 23, then I got my own apartment. It was the first time I had ever lived my myself, outside of the brief time I did when I was in college.  At 24 I was on a bit of an upswing, so I upgraded my apartment, but then fell flat on my face and had to move back in with my parents. I lived with my brother for a while, before moving back in with my parents. I got another apartment for just under a year, and then moved back in with my parents again. I did not get along with my parents while living with them. There was so much animosity, we were butting heads all the time.

Then one day my counselor reached out to me and said "I think I might have found housing for you." It was a tiny one-bedroom apartment with no amenities. I turned it down at first, but then reconsidered given my options. I moved in and immediately felt free. It was my place and everything in it was mine! The apartment was subsidized by HUD and the rent at the beginning was $3.00. This was based on my income at the time which was $0.00. I was so grateful to get this place. Unfortunately, the problem with jobs persisted. I think I counted about 25-50 jobs in a ten year period.

Then came April of 2015. I was without a job, behind on my bills, and couldn't ask my parents for money, again. I said a prayer, and then I said "I just can't do this anymore. I'm done. I've got nothing left." Well, I found a job. I hated it at first but then I got really good at it and it later led to the job I have now which is the best job I've ever had. All because I surrendered. I gave it to God. And in my mind I was calculating the odds, adding up all the complications and I said to myself "God will come through." I cleared my mind and I felt like Luke Skywalker did after he fired his shot into the Death Star. Confident. I was counting on God not letting me down.

A NEW POWER

These days, superheroes are popular. It seems every blockbuster Hollywood produces came from the pages of Marvel or DC Comics. That day in April of 2015 was when I was endowed with my "superpower." No I cannot leap tall buildings in a single bound, fly or run faster than a locomotive. Instead, I now have this sixth sense. When faced with an ominous problem, I feel something, like a voice telling me God will take care of me, that things will work out. He sets my mind and my heart at ease. I can remember each time it happens.

My job is very stressful, taking care of peoples' mortgages during a pandemic; taking care of their homes. Recently management has been talking about adding a new metric in order to make a bonus. To date, I've never hit this metric. I started to panic when I first heard this was going to be expected of me to make my bonus. Later I was able to stop obsessing about it. Then, I felt God tell me everything will be OK as long as I don't worry. In my mind, in only a second, I analyzed the situation and realized that it would be wholly illogical for God to take away my apartment and my livelihood, given it was all from Him. And that's what this whole testimony is about:  faith like a child. "God feeds the birds every day who seem so insignificant in this world. He will take care of you. You just have to trust him," - something my brother wrote me based on Matthew 6:25. There is only one word I can think of that best describes this phenomenon:  hope.

I am in no way perfect in my life or in my faith. I panicked like an unbeliever when I heard they were considering adding this new metric (which hasn't even been officially added yet). But God comforted me, made me feel better. I wrote this article because I feel like I've never really shared my testimony outside of my baptism. I also wanted to communicate the idea that a testimony can change. It can get better, more detailed, and touch more lives. That's not to say if your testimony does not have a lot of details, it's invalid. But I believe in conviction, evidence and proof, and that's what comes with you give up your life to Jesus Christ.

Breaking Bad

I wanted to write about the AMC TV show Breaking Bad. The show aired originally in 2007. I started binge watching it sometime in 2012 I think, on Netflix and then caught the last season as it aired on AMC. I remember, at the time, I didn't really know that much about drugs, especially methamphetamine, but nonetheless, the story drew me in. If you haven't seen it yet, the premise is that a high school chemistry teacher, Walter White, choses to make meth in order to make money to pay for his lung cancer treatment, money that he would in no way ever be able to make on his salary as a high school chemistry teacher. 

The genius of the story comes in the first three episodes; the show makes the character Walter White relatable. I mean, we've all been through something traumatic in our lives. And who hasn't ever faced a problem where the solution was money?

This premise was particularly appealing to me during the period of 2005 - 2013 when I was living with my parents (except for a short stay in my own apartment for one year starting in 2007). I was fiercely struggling with bipolar disorder and always at odds with them. My life was a nightmare, and I would have done anything to get out of it all. I even tried suicide in 2009. My morals at that time were somewhat malleable. 

I've had emotional problems all my life. And as a consequence, I've struggled with employment. I've probably had 50 jobs or more since I was old enough to work, and the reasons I was fired from these jobs or quit were pretty much the same throughout. There is nothing in this world that is worse than the feeling that you are worthless. 

The appeal of Breaking Bad to me was never more attractive than when I was going through the hardest times of my life. So many times I was faced with problems that would have been easily solved with money. Like the time my 1997 Honda Accord needed a new transmission and I didn't even have a job, or the time a collections agency garnished my bank account and took everything I had right at the end of the semester when I was in art school and needed money to pay for printing of my projects, or when I just needed the peace and quiet of my own apartment, away from my nagging parents. I made a lot of bad decisions, that had a lot of negative consequences. I was suffering, and watching an anti-hero like Walter White solve his problems with a reckless abandon PhD in manipulation and gas-lighting gave me a sense of satisfaction, as I imagined everyone who watched the show experienced.

FAST FORWARD

A week or so ago I decided to start re-watching the show. I've seen it before so I knew what to expect. What I didn't know was how different it made me feel. Things for me are much better now. I'm in my own apartment and I have the best job I've ever had. I pay my rent, and I get no subsidies from the government, no handouts whatsoever.

So now when I watch the series again, I get a whole different feeling. Walter White had been good husband and a good father, but his pride got the best of him. He was faced with an unsurmountable problem and instead of asking for help, or rather accepting the help he was offered, and doing the right thing, he chose the easy way out which was to make millions of dollars manufacturing a product that was not only highly illegal, but also led to the suffering of many others. His recklessness cost him his family, his friends and ultimately his own life.

As I mentioned before, Walter White was a master of manipulation and gas-lighting, and it all started with lies. From the first episode, he lied to his wife and son. This disgusts me. I can't even imagine the idea of lying to my wife, the woman I love and chose to be with until I die. I can't fathom a father lying to his son because my father never lied to me. But the rabbit hole just keeps going further and further down a dark path. For some, I think Breaking Bad is a  curiosity, for others maybe fantasy fulfillment.

I think what changed for me was basically everything. And I think it all started with moving into my own apartment in 2013. At that time, it was subsidized by HUD. I was getting EBT benefits as well. I kept praying for jobs, endlessly sending out resumes. When I moved into my apartment I had nothing but a TV, a desk, a bed and some second-hand furniture. The next two years were the most crucial. I had a lot of the same problems, but having my own place was the catalyst, it was freedom. When I started my current job was when I really started to learn, or rather relearn, what it meant to be responsible; to be valued. And I realized just how bad it is to lie, manipulate and gas-light. 

I see Breaking Bad in a completely different light now. It no longer has the same appeal to my basic impulses like it did when I was suffering. I changed. I took the moral high ground and have been able to keep that path. The easy way out holds no sway over me anymore. I no longer get a subsidy for my apartment, nor EBT funds. I no longer have to worry about choosing to pay for my electricity or my rent. I can't tell you how good it feels, and I did it all without committing any crimes.