Remarks by Mark Riccobono
We gather together to celebrate a great man—a father, a friend, a leader, a mentor, a trail blazer, and a blessing to us. It is said that a great man is one who leaves others at a loss after he is gone. Scott LaBarre transcends that level of greatness. While as individuals we will continue to feel lost without his physical presence, he has left us with each other—a community that can continue working together to spread the spirit and values that this man shared with each of us.
Scott was challenged by going blind at age ten. But he did not accept the popular message that blindness defined him; he recognized that he could change the future. To quote one of Scott’s favorite artists, Bono, “Pop music often tells you everything is OK, while rock music tells you that it's not OK, but you can change it." Scott always had a greater affinity for rock music, and the world is better off for it.
Despite the incredible program of speakers we have here today, we will only begin to reveal the many dimensions of this great man, his impact, and the spirit he generously shared with us. We must continue to share and celebrate his story, using Scott’s example as motivation in our march together.
In 1986 the National Federation of the Blind made an investment in an eighteen-year-old, assertive Minnesotan by awarding him one of our prestigious national scholarships. That moment was the beginning of Scott’s transformation into a generous, savvy, and unwavering leader of the organized blind movement whose impact circled the globe and affected a diverse set of communities. For nearly forty years, Scott volunteered thousands of hours as a mentor, advocate, elected leader, committee chair, fundraiser, skilled counselor, and dogged negotiator. In addition to his extraordinary volunteer efforts, he dedicated his private legal practice to the advancement of disability rights. As a blind lawyer, his practice was particularly effective in advancing opportunities for the blind, and most recently he served as the Federation’s general counsel—helping to coordinate the most significant legal program impacting blind people anywhere in the world.
He used any opportunity he had to build the organized blind movement. His extraordinary efforts in the implementation of the Marrakesh Treaty, his successful recruitment of hundreds of people with disabilities into the American Bar Association community, and his intersecting work with other organizations will all be shared by others on this program. He was rarely quiet when doing that work—his booming voice was readily identifiable in any crowd—but he did the work with humility, not seeking personal recognition and always preferring to celebrate the effectiveness of collective action. Yet he will always be most loved for the softer things he did—spending time listening to the stories of blind people, teaching students at the Colorado Center for the Blind, and helping people make connections with others in pursuit of their individual dreams.
Our organization will forever be different because Scott LaBarre was a leader in it. It will also not be the same without him going forward. Scott’s legacy urges us to go forward, and fortunately we have hundreds of members who Scott personally mentored to build on that legacy. We have already taken the first steps. In recognition of the hope, love, and determination that Scott poured into our movement, and in acknowledgment of the outstanding impact of his leadership, the Federation’s Board of Directors has established the Scott C. LaBarre Leadership and Justice Fund.
More personally, let me share my experience with Scott’s big heart. He was the older brother I never had. We had a standing meeting every Tuesday morning and, although it was not written in our notes, we always had an agenda item of checking in on our families. His love for Anahit, Alex, and Karter was unending. Fortunately for me, the LaBarre children are older than my own, and his dad feedback has been invaluable. Scott was not afraid of being genuine with his friends, and I will continue to treasure those moments.
Our recent time together has largely been shared over Zoom from our respective homes. Scott made certain that his voice was very present in the virtual room—he got the best microphone he could find. The moments I liked the best were those when the smallest LaBarre needed his attention. We would be talking about some serious matter, and he would ask if I could give him a minute or two. When he left his mic open, I could hear his big booming voice rise a number of octaves as he joyfully called Mocha to go outside. This always involved Scott giving her a lot of love before he returned to our work. I love the contrast of our outstanding general counsel joyfully sharing love with his dog. It expressed so simply the heart that drove everything he did.
It was more than sharing in his love for the LaBarre family—he was also part of my family. In a visit to our home in Baltimore, we could be having a very serious conversation out on our rooftop deck, but, when one of the girls inserted themselves into the mix, Scott stopped everything to engage with them. He would play along with whatever silly scheme they had in mind. They especially seemed to like the idea of pretending to jail the lawyer. They started referring to him as Scott the Dot, and he loved it.
Scott was the reason I always made sure to have gin and tonic in my house. One time I asked my daughter Oriana, who is here today, to ask Scott the Dot if he would like another gin and tonic. Perhaps due to the carbonation in tonic water, she cheerfully went to him and said, “Would you like another glass of gas?” We have been enjoying glasses of gas together ever since, although we expanded the definition to include any beverage that is chosen for the occasion of sharing our hopes, fears, joys, or sorrows. I am certain that in the Riccobono house we will forever offer each other glasses of gas in salute to the man who offered us the spirit of his heart every time we met, and we invite you to share in the tradition.
On behalf of the members of the National Federation of the Blind, I want to thank the LaBarre family for sharing Scott with us. We know that it is because of your generosity, sacrifice, and support of Scott that this community has had the opportunity to connect with each other. It is your love that was reflected in Scott and continues to be shared in this community—a group that will continue to be here for you.
A number of times in his final hours, Scott said to Anahit, “Don’t let them forget about disability rights.” We will not forget and, more importantly, we will continue the mission. Let’s adopt a new rally call to that effort in Scott’s honor as we move forward together. To take the lyrics from a U2 song:
One love, one blood
One life, you got to do what you should
One life, with each other
Sisters, brothers
One life but we're not the same
We get to carry each other, carry each other
One powerful life that has bound us together was Scott C. LaBarre. One life full of love, and we come together to share both the love and the mission of making the world better. One community built by the life achievements of one great man: Let’s celebrate that life by carrying each other as we continue building the future Scott imagined.