Scott was born 3/4/1955 to John & Dolores Ferguson in Detroit MI and was raised on Lawndale in SW Detroit. Scott married his high school sweet heart Betty on his parents 28th wedding anniversary, 8/14/1976. Scott and Betty have 2 sons John and James.
When Scott was abt 10 he got his first job at a bakery on Vernor Hwy washing pots and pans so he could buy his greaser clothes. Yes a greaser turned biker. Until he joined the Zulus, Scott liked working on cars. Scott joined the Zulus just after his 18th birthday in 1973 and remained a member when he passed 12/5/2024.
Scott retired from Ford Motor Company after 33 years of service - where he worked in the by-products, blast furnace, Boiler Room, parts depot and retired the end of 2006 as a Sheetmetal Journeyman - thanks to his brother; afterwards enjoyed watching all the episodes of Mash, Bonanza, Gun Smoke, Wagon Train, Waltons, Green Acres, Larmie, Wells Fargo among others several times over; as you can tell he liked the oldie moldie programs and westerns.
Grandchildren:
Ashley Zielinski (Ray)
Brianna Zielinski (Ian)
Josh Zielinski
Alex Ferguson
Beatrix Ferguson
And 6 great grandchildren (Giovanni, Jayden, Lucas, Nikolas, Enzo & Gianni)
Siblings:
Gary Ferguson (Becky)
Jennifer/Nathan
Rachael/Jay
Ryan/Jessica
Lauren
Lori Ann Mazur (Steve)
Matthew/Lana
Nicholas
Scott also leaves behind many many friends that became family..
Scott grew up in SW Detroit, Scott & Betty met in the 9th grade drafting class yet did not start dating until after they graduated High School (7/73). Scott & Betty was married at Cass Methodist Church, Detroit MI on 8/14/1976 and remained married until Scott's passing. Scott's 1st motorcycle was a 750 Honda that he and Rojo (another old Zulus member) rebuilt into a chopper.
When The Last Biker Falls Poem
As more and more younger riders take the road I wanted to share this with you.
The old ones stand out now, their numbers dwindling down. They're a sad loss to the American scene, these individualists with the worn down clothes and faces.
You can still see them sometimes, the real ones, some in packs, not as large as a while ago, sometimes alone or in pairs.
The ones who have been here a long time, staying in the life they love, never giving into a system that sucks you up like a vortex if you slip just one foot into it.
He's got his connections - a few like him that care for and protect each other.
Hanging onto the only unique lifestyle left, like old dinosaurs, their faces are leathered and rough by forty, but their eyes still sharp and knowing.
Some are gray in the beards and braids, some are limp in the step and some pain in the kidneys.
Still they know that no other life is life, but merely a dreary journey into everyone else's monotony.
He looks at the new ones, then turns away, knowing they will never know of life on the road.
The new ones are shiny and young and a bit too clean. They're born into a system that has an iron grip now. The new men will never know and couldn't take "the life."
Never a mystery to the old ones, why this life is theirs, but it is, and it's the only one. Some now will never understand, and wouldn't even if explained to them.
When the last biker falls, like the dinosaurs, the sun will go down on a breed of heart of gold.
Tough as nails, free spirited men, who even at their worst, love what's their's and protect it.
In a world wide system that is making all people as alike as manufactured dolls, the earth will be a duller place....
When the Last Biker Falls