By Steve Vertlieb: I just saw a tribute to an old friend at Dick Klemensen’s Facebook page. Dick, the editor and publisher of Little Shoppe of Horrors Magazine, is seated to the left of frame, next to Don Kraar, wearing glasses and his trademark smile. This photo goes back a bit. Several of the celebrants pictured are, sadly, no longer with us. Old pal Ron Borst, happily still vital and healthy, is pictured to the right of frame. To his right is the late Gary Dorst whose friendship brightened the lives of everyone who knew him while, Jimmy Bernard, the great British film composer who scored most of Hammer Films’ Peter Cushing/Christopher Lee horror classics is seated to the left of Dick.

In the center, however, with his large hands leaning upon my shoulder, is a giant, bearded bear of a man named John Farnham Scott. John was a wonderful actor, and an even better pal. A pal is someone whom you look to for happy memories, unwavering support and, above all, the love that sometimes can only be shared by men whose common interests and close proximity unite them over the passage of time as more than friends, but as brothers. John was such a soul.

As Dick eloquently recounted in his own tribute to John this morning, he was a solid actor and seasoned performer who had a featured role in the three part television mini-series George Washington which starred Barry Bostwick in the title character role, and which aired on network television many years ago. “His major roles were as General Henry Knox in the 3-part miniseries George Washington (with Barry Bostwick) where he gave a very powerful and touching performance reading the Declaration of Independence. The lead in a romantic comedy (based on Cyrano) called Fat Chance/Fat Angels. And one of the comedy supporting cast in the Robert Hay comedy Touched.”

John was the very definition of a big, loveable teddy bear. He was a big man with a bigger heart. He loved his friends. They were his family. We, his family, loved him back. He was a generous soul who shared his warmth, humor, and affection with everyone fortunate enough to know him. I lost track of John when he grew ill several years ago, and entered a nursing home. I gather from Dick that he’d suffered a stroke at the end. He was a joyous man, and a beloved friend to many of us. I was honored to think of him as such.

“Goodnight, Sweet Prince. And Flights of Angels Sing Thee To Thy Rest.”