Synchronicity. Serendipity. Surreal. Those are three more “S” words that can be applied to Phish’s Friday night performance in Denver. While the show was set to kick off the final run of summer—a season that had been nothing short of transformational for the band—there was a backdrop of tragedy for some of Phish’s extended family. Just the week before, tour mainstay since 1993 and the de facto “mayor of Phish lot,” Scott Ian Nowak, suddenly passed from our world. An original member of Phish’s Green Crew back in 1994, Scottie was a glowing spirit who brightened every situation he encountered—a true beacon of light in tour’s existential circus. Greeting anyone and everyone with a heartfelt “Good Morning!” (even if he first saw you at 7 pm) Scottie infused Phish tour with a purity of soul and luminosity that will sorely be missed.
Just before the final run, one of his closest friends wrote the band a letter explaining Scottie’s undying dedication to their music and culture, and what a painful loss so many in the community were going through. He also requested a dedication of “Esther” (Scottie’s favorite song) during the Denver weekend. And though “Esther” was never played, Phish—in delivering the “S” show—left us with a profound synchronicity for the ages. Had this show been planned for Scottie? Was it purely coincidence? How could it be? Interestingly, after talking to Scottie’s closest friends, the answer to this question just doesn’t matter—it happened. A powerful night of memories was helped along by a show that fit congruently into the cosmic life cycles of the moment.
Though Scottie had no direct connection to the band, some of his very close friends have intimate ties, and though Scottie was just a name in passing to the band members and a dancer to which they had connected to countless times over the years, he was a pivotal and influential person in the lives of so many in the Phish community. Instead of my telling Scottie’s story, I offered this space to some of his closest friends to do just that. Below are anecdotes and memories from Scottie’s friends—vibrant vignettes of an irreplaceable life lived. In honoring their words, I have barely edited these stories at all.
Remembering Scottie:
Scott Nowak, aka “Scottie from Schenectady,” or “Scottie with Overalls” as he would come to be known on tour, started seeing one-off shows in 1993. While working in the IRS office after finishing high school in the spring of 1994, he decided to throw in the towel and took his savings and convinced his long time friend, Scarecrow, to drive the tour. Scarecrow was easily convinced, and the two set out on the epic spring ’94 tour. They attended every show on that legendary run, but the Bomb Factory was a near miss. Scottie and Scarecrow got locked into a vampire’s apartment in New Orleans and had jump out of a two story before spending hours trying to find where they had parked. But they made it to Houston for the second set and then on to the Bomb Factory. I met them two shows later at Paolo Soleri Amphitheater in New Mexico—my 10th show.
I rode with them the rest of that run (the first tour for all three of us) through Red Rocks, Phish’s first performance at the legendary venue. Our meeting was a matter of fate or destiny, as it was and is with most of the connections made on tour. And while I could write for hours about every adventure, you can look over the list of places and venues and only imagine what and how it all went down.
We camped every night, didn’t have to drive through the night to make to the show on time, and we slept under the stars briefly at rest areas. We had four tapes in the car: Phish-Nectars 1988, a random Dead show, Beck’s Mellow Gold and a mix tape made by a high school friend of Scottie and Scarecrow’s. That was the soundtrack to the beginning of our journey with The Phish. We drove through the Southwestern desert, for them, their first time out there, and continued up the west coast while bathing in the ocean and hot springs, dumpster diving and spare changing at gas stations to get from show to show, all the way from San Diego to Vancouver and back down to San Francisco.
At the Warfield shows on that spring run our trusty driver had disappeared and Scottie and I were bound by a bond at that point. We realized that our unity was in our deep love and appreciation of the band and the music, and that nothing would keep us from a show. So while Scarecrow missed the first two nights, Scottie and I held on to every sacred moment of music, clearly seeing for the first time that everyone who attends a Phish concert is there for an entirely different experience. And for us, it was the music. For others, the music allows an umbrella to gather under, to meet other people, for partying, for inspiration, for whatever it may be, the experience is up to the user. Scarecrow showed back up that third night and we were relived as we headed East from San Francisco to Colorado.
Upon arriving at Red Rocks, which was the first show that “Green Crew” had official leadership and actual tickets set aside by the band, we got to the lot and were told that we couldn’t park on-site without tickets. We Jedi’d in and met for the first official G-Crew meeting, led by Jamie and Lisa. From that point on the deal was set for Scottie. He was like, “All I have to do is pick up garbage and I get a free ticket to see the magic circus? Sign me up! ”
Green Crew was where and when Scottie began to touch souls, his infectious laughter could be heard across the parking lots, his great insight into the songs made him someone that was sought out after particularly mind blowing shows to help sort out the mental mind-phuck that the band had presented that night. There was always a level of feeling that certain moments in the show or lines of the songs were very directed at YOU, the concert-goer. Sometimes Trey’s stories would incorporate a sign that we all passed on the drive, or reference a city that was passed along the way, or “Slave” would be dropped on a night that everyone was pressed to make it on time. Scottie was always there to sort out the meaning, decipher the reality from the myth. Between that spring and summer we caught, 40 shows together.
Scottie caught all the ’95,’96,’97,’98 shows, making it to Europe and one Japan run. He also hit the monumental Phil and Phriends shows also at the Warfield in ’99. All the debuts, moments like the Darien Show when the Pranksters came out, he was there. We drove the Island Tour together. It was in ’99 that he stepped away from doing full tours, as real life obligations took hold. Don’t get me wrong he still saw tons but as far as being “on tour,” that was where the parting began. Scottie was a dedicated member of G-crew and continued to pick up recyclables after the shows, even after he stopped getting official band tickets.
Scottie was a part of my life, from day 10 of my days on tour and for everyday since. He called me every year on my birthday, without fail, for the last 17 years. When there were times that I was at shows and he was not, we would either email, text or talk about the pivotal moments of the night for every show that I have been to since 1994. For me, Scottie has always been synonymous with Phish and my first experience with destiny. So when I found out about his passing on Saturday August 27th, I was destroyed. Though we had times of disconnect over the years of Phish’s breakup, we always had our annual catch-ups over our birthdays that were only a month apart. Once Phish reunited, he was unable to attend as many shows, and I was blessed enough to be able to catch a lot of them so we had fully reconnected over the last two years, and were in touch almost daily.
-Jen Chadbourne
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It is hard to put into words what Scottie meant to me and all of our friends. He was a source of constant light and positivity. Someone you could always count on to lighten the mood or make a rough situation better. In remembering Scottie, one of the things that keeps coming up is his ear to ear smile. Since his passing, people have been sharing all of their pictures of Scottie, and in each one, he is flashing that trademark grin. I remember at Darien Lake in 2000, I left my seat during “Suzy Greenberg” to use the bathroom. There was a crazy storm happening outside in the field area and as I walked back, I found Scottie back in the field, completely drenched. I went into the tent, borrowed a stub from somebody and stubbed him in. We walked back to my seats just as the song was winding down. Scottie sat up on two of the seatbacks so he could see over the standing people. As usual, that grin was ear to ear. We all thought the song was coming to an end but they kicked back in for an epic “Suzy Reprise.”&nb