Douglas Scott Leigh

Douglas Scott Leigh died peacefully surrounded by family on November 14, 2024, due to complications of Parkinson’s Disease. He was born April 16, 1947, to Evelyn (Solsman) and Gerald Leigh, in Cincinnati, Ohio. He was a boy in Racine, Wisconsin, where he played sports and loved basketball in particular, but was also known for his keen intellect.

Scott graduated from Park High School in Racine in 1965 and his love of learning found him pursuing studies in Sociology of Education, Philosophy and Clinical Psychology at Beloit College, Western Michigan University and University of Nebraska – Lincoln. While he explored many possibilities at the university level and was awarded several degrees, his in-depth and self-guided studies of various topics (as diverse as grizzly bears to Zen Buddhism to AI) was lifelong.

During his college years Scott welcomed his first daughter Megan into the world in 1968 with Tara Seymour, followed by Brittany in 1979 and Bonnie in 1982 with former wife Cheryl (Bethel). He was also a stepfather, and remained a loving and constant presence in his stepson Brian’s life to the end.

Scott’s career included time as an editor of a local newspaper and school board member, but he spent the bulk of his career at Nebraska Public Media in several roles, the last of which was Senior Producer in the Interactive Media Unit, creating diverse content ranging from courses for UNL’s independent High School to an interactive multimedia ebook on “Lost Writers of the Plains” to a companion website to NPM’s “The Price of Water.”

His daughters sometimes joked with Scott that he had a shaky track record when it came to choosing partners, having experienced divorce several times. However, that changed when he met Shaunna Meyer in 1996 and blossomed into a partnership that spanned almost 29 years. Scott’s respect and admiring love of Shaunna was apparent in the way he spoke of and to her; in his actions and delight in the quiet life and rhythms they’d built together. To Scott, every day with Shaunna was a gift.

A perfect day for Scott might find him browsing a used bookstore to add to his legendary book collection, or going for a 30-mile bike ride on Lincoln’s MoPac trail, ballcap on, greeting everyone. He would of course also do some reading; convene a Zoom gathering to connect with far-flung daughters and sister; or delight in a weekly Zoom call with Slava to discuss Tibetan Buddhism (and life).  And no matter what else, 4:45 pm meant his daily check-in conversation with lifelong friend Paul. The end of the day often found him snuggling up on the sofa after dinner to watch a movie from his list of favorites, sandbagged by three cats, holding hands with Shaunna.

Scott was a seeker, and when he turned 60 he decided it was time to put some of the ideas he’d read about for decades into practice; he participated regularly in Tibetan Buddhist meditation retreats ranging in length from a weekend to three months. In the end, after these years of studying various wisdom traditions, his heart resonated most with the Dalai Lama’s “My religion is very simple. My religion is kindness.”

Above all, Scott was kind.

He is greatly missed by his daughters Megan, Brittany and Bonnie; sisters Linda Leigh and Gabrielle Martin; wife Shaunna Meyer and his beloved cats (both his own and the neighborhood cats who frequented his patio). Friends Paul Dorsey and Slava Komarovski and his wife Trang remained dedicated to spending time with Scott to the very end, while sister-in-law Yvonne Meyer provided loving support in myriad ways. Grandson Flynn Leigh-Baker misses how playful and cheerful he was and granddaughter Sparrow Leigh-Baker misses how he really listened to her and cared about her interests.

While health challenges necessarily limited Scott’s world the last years of his life, he still greeted each day with honesty, humor and a willingness to examine and accept what was. He of course read voraciously about death and discussed it openly, which was a gift of sorts; his brilliant mind and words retaining depth to the end. We can still hear him.

To leave a condolence please use the form below.