Heavyweight - 2025 Update: Scott

Episode Date: June 19, 2025

This week, we check back in with Scott to find out what turns his life has taken since the original episode aired in 2019.When Scott was a heroin addict, he crossed a line he thought he would never cross. And he’s been trying to uncross it ever since.CreditsThis episode was produced by Jonathan Goldstein, Stevie Lane, Kalila Holt, and BA Parker, with editing by Jorge Just. Special thanks to Emily Condon, Alex Blumberg, Nathan Foster, Jacob Eppler, and Jackie Cohen. This episode was mixed by Bobby Lord. Music by Christine Fellows, John K Samson, Blue Dot Sessions, Michael Hearst, Michael Charles Smith, Podington Bear, Shadowlands, Stratus, Haley Shaw, and Bobby Lord. Our theme song is by The Weakerthans courtesy of Epitaph Records.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Pushkin. Stevie Lane, I'd like to welcome you into the studio. Thanks for being here. Oh, um. I'm recording, I hope you know. Oh, thank you for telling me. Okay, so I have your verbal consent. Yes, I'm opting in.

Okay, so I'm recording. I'm also recording. I don't remember being asked your verbal consent. Yes, I'm opting in. Okay, so I'm recording. I'm also recording. I don't remember being asked for my consent. Um, Jonathan, can I record? Yes, you may. Thank you, Jonathan. Um, so we're going to be re-listening to an encore presentation of an episode that we did or that, you know, you produced six years ago about a man named Scott.

Yes. And here's a little glimpse behind the curtain. There's a lot of investigation that takes place. And you're captain of the Heavyweight Investigative Bureau. I love pretending that my job is a PI. Well, it's kind of, I mean, it's like it is. That's what I am. You did a lot of research.

I did. I will say that this is an episode that genuinely at every turn, we were surprised by what happened. Yeah. And that was really, I feel like that was like really fun while making it. Yeah.

But like, I do feel that that translates into the story in a really amazing way. Yeah, and at the very end, I'm gonna catch up with Scott. We're gonna find out where in his life he is all these years later. So I guess, should we play it for the people? Without a do or a don't? Let's sit back, pop the footrest on your barka lounger. And enjoy. But!

Oh, sorry, did I scare you? No. No, okay, well, I just wanted to say sorry I got excited, but first a word from our sponsors. This is an iHeart Podcast. Let's play Truth or Dare. Okay, go ahead. No. Jackie, you cut out. Yeah?

You cut out. I couldn't hear if you said Truth or Dare. Which one did you say? No, I'm not willing. I'm not interested. I don't want to play Truth or Dare. Have you ever... Have you ever peed in a shower?

Tell the truth. Have you ever peed in a shower? Tell the truth. Have you ever peed in a shower? John? Jackie? That's just not a question, John. Is it because the answer is yes? Affirmative. Okay, have you ever peed in a bathtub?

Negative. You've never peed in a bathtub? That's disgusting. Why would you pee on yourself? I'm not saying that I did. You just did. You just said you did. No, I didn't. You just said you did. Okay you could. You were surprised but I hadn't. No because I'm not in the hot seat. You are.

You're not in the hot seat. I thought we were having a conversation. I want to have a conversation. We are having a conversation. Okay you could. This is not a conversation. From Gimlet Media, I'm Jonathan Goldstein, and this is Heavyweight. Today's episode, Scott. Okay, we're rolling. So, Scott, first of all, thank you. Okay, we're rolling. So Scott, first of all, thank you. Maybe the thing to do would... No, absolutely.

Yeah, go on. If you're lucky, the mistakes you make as you move through life are small and harmless. Calling your teacher mommy, leaving gum in your jeans in the wash, or talking over the person you're trying to talk to. No, no, sorry. Sure. Hang on a second. Yeah.

Could you tell me more? Scott, can you? Yeah, yeah, yeah. But the mistake Scott made wasn't the small kind. It was the big kind. Big because it hurt his dad, one of the people Scott loves most. And he's been trying to fix that mistake for the past eight years. For Scott, the story all begins when he was a kid, which is when he first discovered drugs.

The first one was weed. I mean, that was when I was 13. And then alcohol. And then it quickly kind of descended from there. So I first did cocaine when I was 14, 15. First did meth when I was about 15. And then it was around that same time that I was 14, 15. First did meth when I was about 15. And then it was around that same time that I found opiates.

Scott's mom suffered from chronic pain, and there were always pills in her medicine cabinet, stuff like Oxycontin and fentanyl. It was this feeling of like finding a missing piece to a puzzle. All of a sudden my anxiety was gone. I didn't have as much self-doubt. And I was able to speak

my mind and connect and talk and approach girls. And at the time, it really felt like a cheat code that I would have for life. And for a while, it worked. Scott graduated high school, then college, and found his way into a job as a well-paid graphic designer. But he was still using drugs the way he always had, to manage his anxiety and make friends. Like the friend who got him to shoot heroin for the first time. And I say friend now, but looking back on it we weren't necessarily friends at all. But he said, if you can give me a ride to go pick up some drugs, then I'll give you some for your trouble.

And so we're driving down I-70. He's in shotgun. I'm in the driver's seat with my arm extended out over the middle part of the car as he shoots me up for the first time. And I instantly passed out and kind of swerved across three lanes before he grabbed the wheel and then I kind of came back to, you know, a foot away from hitting a guardrail. That right there just threw gasoline onto the fire. It went from, you know, doing it on the weekends once or twice a month to doing it every weekend to doing it every few days, to every other day. Within a year, Scott lost his job and moved into his dad's basement, back into his childhood

home in Colorado. He still needed to get high every day, and now had no money. There were boxes in the basement filled with old jewelry and silverware, stuff that had belonged to Scott's mom before she'd passed away. So Scott started stealing stuff from the boxes, to bring to a pawn shop down the road. He figured an item or two wouldn't be missed, but pretty soon it became a daily thing. All the while, the voice in the back of my head was still there, knowing what was right and what was wrong, and so I felt immense guilt.

Soon the boxes were empty, and Scott began to eye other things. Things right out in the open. Things that belonged to his dad. So like a radio on the shelf just right there in the living room, taking that. And then a baseball signed by the early 30s New York Yankees. You know, Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig and everything like that. Did your dad know what was going on? I mean, my dad is a very unique person.

He's kind of like chronically petrified of direct conversations. You know, I remember even as a kid, he would have me order the pizza, you know, when we were ordering a pizza or something like that because he didn't want to talk to the person on the phone. So Scott's dad never brought up the missing stuff. Until Scott started taking money.

I knew right where his checkbook was. It was right there on the secretary by the front door. And I had a light table where I put down a piece of paperwork that I'd found with his signature on it and then put the check over it and kind of traced over it. The checks were small, $60 here and there. But soon the account was thousands of dollars overdrawn. So, his dad had to make a decision.

It was one thing for a clock to go missing, another thing entirely for his savings to disappear. So, the man who couldn't bring himself to pick up the phone to order pizza, picked up the phone and reported his son to the police. So, then they piled me into the back of the police car and then brought me to the jail. Were you scared at this point? I was petrified. I was petrified of the legal consequences I had, but I think I was equally or more petrified

of the detox that I knew that was coming. I remember scrawling out the hours I was sober on a little jailhouse notepad that they give you. And, you know, I was doing $300 a day of heroin at that point. So it was a really, really, really bad withdrawal. There was just a series of horrible days where I just couldn't stop crying. I would have these kind of vivid dreams of seeing family or being happy and then wake up to realize I'm still in a jail cell. A couple weeks into his detention,

a garbled voice came over the loudspeaker. Scott had a visitor. Nobody had visited me yet, and so I thought it was a mistake at first. So I go up there and there's my dad. Come to visit me. But, um... But Scott's father wasn't there to offer support. He was there to present his son with a list of all the things he'd stolen.

The radios, the watch collection, the family silver. It was two columns containing some 50 items. And at the very top of the page... His most prized possession, the Luger. This German pistol that my grandfather had taken off a German in World War II. This gun was something that I knew was like his pride and joy. That was like the quintessential memento and the biggest piece that my dad had to remember his dad by. And so that was the one big thing that I had promised myself that I would never take.

And I took it. Of all the things Scott had stolen from his dad, of all the mistakes he'd made, this is the one he regrets most. I've only seen my father cry when his dad passed away, when my mom passed away and in that jail when he was telling me about him knowing about the gun being gone. You know, this was a piece of his father that he thought he would be able to hold on to for the rest of his life and I sold for $1,400 worth of drugs. For four months, Scott sat in jail, awaiting trial. When he was finally sentenced, the judge decided to dismiss the charges if Scott completed

this two-year treatment program that was modeled on rehab programs from the 70s. Scott would have to shave his head and scrub the floors with a toothbrush, that kind of thing. The judge told Scott that of the roughly 300 people he'd sent there, none had made it through. So that was encouraging right at the very beginning. But I was like, get me in. Whatever I need to do, I'm going to do it. After two years, Scott walked out of the facility and he's been clean since. He has a wife,

two young kids, and a job at a residential treatment facility in Colorado where he works with addicts and their families. He's trying to make up for who he used to be by paying it forward, but there's one person he's never been able to pay back. I have all but forgiven myself for a lot of the things that I've done in the past, but this is one thing that no matter the amount of counseling, it still bothers me on the deepest level that I did this to my dad. So about five years ago, Scott took his dad's list of the stolen items

and set off to recover the Luger, along with everything else. So I went to the old antique stores that I used to go to. I went to the old sports memorabilia spot to see to. I went to the old sports memorabilia spot to see if I could track down the baseball that I had sold. He succeeded in getting some things back, a crossly antique radio, a ham radio. And that Christmas, with his sister, all his aunts and uncles gathered round, Scott surprised his dad

with the items he'd recovered. Scott was feeling pretty proud of himself. Until Uncle Bill piped up. And my uncle basically says, well, is the Luger in there? Is the Luger one of the things that you were able to get back? Uncle Bill was close with Scott's grandfather. Like him, he'd also served in the military. He believed the Luger should have been his to begin with, not his little brothers. And it was like, no, no, I wasn't able to find that. And then that led to probably about a 10-minute spiel of his about how important that gun was to him.

And I remember the day when I found out that that was stolen, it still bothers me. And it was just like in the middle of Christmas morning. And we're handing out presents, and every word that he said just like, ugh. It felt like a kick in the gut. And how do you think it made your father feel? Very uncomfortable, very uncomfortable, yeah. Yeah. But he's not the type of person

that would toss it back in my face. You know, that's kind of my uncle's style, but not necessarily his. Although Scott's dad didn't say anything, Scott understood that his dad felt the same way as Uncle Bill, that it was nice to have all those items returned, but the only one he really cared about was the Luger, and it was gone, all because of Scott. I know that there's still trust issues there.

I know that there's still pain there. And I've told him over the years that I'm going to do what I can to try and get it back. And I know by the glean in his eye that that would matter quite a bit, and that if I am able to track this down, it would be seismic. No matter what Scott accomplishes in life or how good he feels there's always that nagging voice that cries out, what about the Luger? Were you able to get that back? Even when Scott is relaxing in front of the TV, if anything about World War II comes on, he has to change the channel.

And so Scott's come to me. He wants to find his grandfather's Luger and has no idea where to begin. My first thought is, why me? Why not the guys from Firearms Chat Podcast, the Reloading Podcast, Wasted Ammo Podcast, Socialist Rifle Association Podcast, Concealed Carry podcast, New Shooter Canada, or Gun Girl Radio, the firearm show for the Second Amendment woman. I'm more the wistful type than the pistol type, more the pun type than the gun type. Do you think we'll have to go to a gun show? I don't know. I think it

just kind of depends on where it ended up. Like the thing that's a little scary, and maybe I'm completely like out of line with thinking this, but is it possible like that these guns can filter back into like a kind of netherworld of? Like Nazi sympathizer people? Exactly, like, yeah.

It's possible. Yeah. I don't abide by Nazi sympathizers, but I'm rapidly becoming a Scotsy sympathizer. ["The Scotsy Sympathizer"] As Anton Chekhov once said, "'If a gun shows up in the first act, it must be fired in the second,'

and that's a lot of presh. But as Jonathan Goldstein once said, if a gun's to be fired at all, please don't let it hit me in the wallet because that's where I keep the charge card I use for purchasing quality products like the ones coming your way. Not knowing where to start, I spend several hours on a gun collector's discussion board run by someone named Jan with an iron cross for an avatar.

I introduce myself to my fellow gun nuts and announce that I'm looking for a gun. Right away, an internet pop-up pops up telling me that my content has been blocked and to quote, see administrator immediately. After the Gimlet Media HR department confiscates my computer, I unholster my weapon of choice, the telephone. I dial gun dealerships all over the country to seek advice. It's going to be almost impossible. There may not be any type of record.

Because it could just be in some private collector's collection. It's going to be hard for you. I'm going to tell you straight up. Do you know when it was sold? Do you have any type of serial number? Of course, a serial number. Scott doesn't know the serial number, but he admits there's one person who might. Uncle Bill. My dad's older brother. Yeah. Mr. Christmas Morning

himself. Are you in touch with your uncle? I am. I mean not a ton, but I am, yeah. So maybe he would be a place to start. Now, I'm, I mean, of course there's a cloud of anxiety. My chest starts tightening when I think about actually doing it. Shortness of breath would come next, then burning in the chestal region. It was sounding to this reporter like the healing process had already begun. But maybe we could both do it. No.

We could do a three-person call. With me on the line as his emotional defibrillator, Scott dials up Uncle Bill. Good afternoon, this is Bill. Hello, Uncle Bill. How are you? I'm good. Mr. Goldstein. Yeah, hi. After Scott and I jockey over who will hide behind whose petticoats, Scott boldly peers

out from behind my petticoats and asks Uncle Bill about the serial number. I believe it had a fairly low serial number, but unfortunately we never took a photo of the writing on the inside of the holster. So you don't have the serial number? I do not. But the moment we bring up the gun, it's Christmas morning all over again. It's a piece of history, of his history.

That was part of what formed him to be the man that I knew. And that's about all we have from him from that era. And now we don't have that. So... MUSIC When Uncle Bill speaks of the gun, it's as though Scott, the person responsible for its disappearance, isn't there, even when he pipes up to defend himself. The gun disappeared to help beat his habit.

And I was royally pissed at him. Yeah, I paid off every cent. I wasn't really happy with his dad either. It wasn't like I was going to go and beat him up or anything. But I was pissed. He felt a need to, quote, keep it safe, and then he didn't keep it safe. Do you still feel like you fault your brother for that? Somewhat.

Now the reality of World War II vets is that they didn't really like to talk about the war. We didn't have PTSD as a diagnosis. The damage was usually dealt with with alcohol. And he and an awful lot of them drank too much. And that's how they self-medicated. After the war, Scott's grandfather became an alcoholic. He spent his days in an easy chair with a glass in his hand. And in the evenings evenings he kept a bottle of whiskey on the nightstand to make sure he didn't wake up in withdrawal. Like the Luger, it seems addiction has also been a part of Scott's family for decades. Before getting off the phone, Uncle Bill does offer a couple helpful bits of

information. He tells us that the Luger was a Mauser and that returning World War II soldiers were often issued something called bring-back papers, documents detailing any items they took home. If we could find those papers, Bill says, there's a chance the gun's serial number might be there. He also says that if anyone has the bring-back papers, it'd be Scott's older sister, Mary, the family record keeper, and also one of Scott's biggest supporters. He's a good person and an honest one. When Scott was in jail, Mary was the one who visited most, gave him money for the commissary,

and helped him with his court case. When I explain the length Scott's going through to get their dad's gun back, Mary becomes emotional. The whole thing reminds her of a story from when they were kids. Mary, Scott, and their dad had gone out shopping. He accidentally stole a bookmark from a store just because he thought we had paid for it and we hadn't. And he cried all the way home and made us go all the way back to the store almost an

hour away to return it. Mary still sees her little brother as the same well-meaning kid who's trying to make things right. She's not sure she has the bringback papers, but wants to help. So over the weekend, she digs through their grandfather's old stuff. She finds wartime postcards, letters to their grandmother, photos of their grandfather and his army buddies huddled in foxholes. And then she found the actual document, the bring back papers. Holy cow, okay, so what and...

I know, it's pretty crazy, yeah. It's yellowing with, it almost looks like it has a coffee stain right through the middle. And then it has just written in underneath it, Luger pistol serial number 459. Wow. This is Giovanni. Hi Giovanni. How are you, Jonathan? I'm good. How are you?

I'm doing well, doing well. I get Giovanni's number from another gun dealer who tells me that if I'm looking for a World War II era Luger Giovanni is my man. Giovanni owns one of Colorado's largest historical firearm shops and is something of an expert in Lugers. And so, armed with the serial number, I get ready to make some headway. The serial number is 459. Okay. No.

You have an incomplete serial number. Giovanni explains that Luger serial numbers have both numbers and letters, so there could be a 459A, 459B, and so on. I re-examined the scan Scott sent me, but no letter.

How many 459 serial number guns are there probably out there? Lugers? Probably about... It could be a hundred. Hoping to narrow the pool, I tell Giovanni it wasn't just any Luger. It was a Mauser. Does that give you any...

Nothing. Okay. Nothing. So in giving you that serial number, it's not like you can look it up in a database or anything? No. Oh, absolutely not. No. Hmm. What would you do if you were trying to track down this gun? I would give up.

Before hanging up, Giovanni says there's one last thing we could try, retracing the gun's path. Go back to the pawn shop clerk to see if he has a record of who he sold the gun to. Giovanni says the clerk has no obligation to reveal that information, but it's worth a shot. The clerk's name is George, and he and Scott were friendly back when Scott was living with his dad. They're still connected on Facebook. So Scott messages, asking if George

might be willing to talk to us. And George says yes. And then he calls me back a couple minutes later just in tears. It turns out that when George bought the gun from Scott eight years ago, he intended to keep it for himself. At the time, George and his wife were expecting a baby. And about two weeks after I had sold him that gun, he found out his wife had brain cancer.

Oh my God. Like really aggressive brain cancer. And she ended up having to go undergo really a aggressive radiation. And so because of that, they ended up losing the baby. Just months after buying the gun from Scott, George sold it to pay for his wife's medical bills. And then she passed away a number of months after that.

And it just brings up these kind of horrible memories that he's trying to avoid diving back into. Each time the gun has changed hands, it seems it's been in the midst of violence, desperation, and personal tragedy. While George doesn't want to talk, he does remember the name of the person he sold the gun to, the owner of a rare coin and gold bouillon shop, a man named Klaus. I just keep my collecting interests private. Some people think just because you buy Nazi guns that you're Nazi.

When I first phone Klaus at his store, he's reluctant to talk. He's nervous about being judged for his hobby. I'm a collector, but you know, some people associate collecting World War II German memorabilia with, you know, Nazism. I reassure Klaus that that's not what I think. But over the course of our phone call, I become less sure of what I think. I have a Luger serial number seven. What makes it so interesting that Hitler's party pin number

was number seven. So he was, you know, the party member number seven. I have a number seven Luger. How did you acquire something like that? I have some things that are very, very unusual. You know, I came, I'm an immigrant. I came from Germany. My grandfather was a Nazi officer and my father was in the youth. I have many questions for Klaus.

First and foremost, why are you telling me, Jonathan Goldstein, about your familial ties to the Nazis? But I'm not here to interrogate Klaus. I'm here to find Scott's gun. So I try to steer us back on track. I tell Klaus that I'm calling on behalf of a man named Scott, whose grandfather once owned a Mauser Luger that George sold to him some years ago. Klaus tells me that's not possible. He tells me he never bought a gun from George. He doesn't even know who George is. And besides, he says, he's never owned a Mauser Luger. Maybe you're mistaken, I say. All these guns kind of look alike.

Black, shiny, shooty. Maybe you lost track of it. Maybe it fell behind the couch. Klaus tells me he'll look around, but he's noncommittal, just trying to get me off the phone. Then, at 11.13 p.m., I get a text. Hello, Jonathan, it reads. Call me at your convenience. And speaking of convenience, no need to so much as move a muscle, because I'm about to march right over there and dump a truckload of savings

directly onto your face. [♪ music playing, drum beat, music ends. ... ... This is Scott. Hey, this is Jonathan Goldstein speaking. How are you? Well, I have some news for you.

I found the gun. What? Yeah. Are you kidding me? No, no. Are you kidding me? No. Oh my god.

Yeah. You found it. Yes. Wow. Yeah. I'm blown away. It's a matter of whether we'll be able to get it. did. And it was an interesting conversation. So you found the gun? Yeah, you know, I was surprised. Last night I took a look and I went into my vault room and I found it. The Luger was still in the original holster.

Attached to it was a tag with Scott's grandfather's name. Would you be open to the idea of selling it back to him? Well, my first thought is probably not. It's just that I legally purchased the gun and I mean I'm a collector, you know, I paid for it. I mean, would you say that his grandfather paid for it with his service? I mean, it's war-boundy that someone brought over from Germany. You know, he didn't pay for it. From Klaus's perspective, the gun Scott stole was already stolen property.

He took it off of a German officer. And you know, as we spoke prior, my grandfather was an officer in World War II and you know my thoughts were gee you know could that gun been his? At this point I'm not really compelled to let go of the gun but I still give it some thought. So the way that we left it was He said that he'd think about it. Okay well, I Won't start celebrating yet, but we know who has it. We know where it is. So now it's just kind of tactfully Figuring out what it's gonna take to get it back. I

Really I really do respect your optimism. I don't think we're going to get the gun back, personally. I'm going to try. We're going to get that gun. Since Scott's not ready to admit defeat, I suggest he try making his case directly to Klaus in a letter. So Scott writes from the heart. He explains the full story of his addiction, his time in jail, and his guilt about his dad.

My greatest regret was that I would never be able to get this heirloom back in the hands of my father, Scott writes. But now, for the first time, that seems like a possibility. Eight years ago, I was so addicted to heroin that I was pretty sure I was going to die. That fact has since been replaced with another, more hope-filled one. Second chances are real. Klaus receives the letter, but offers no response. Two weeks go by and still we hear nothing. So I send another email.

Klaus's answer is short. I have considered Scott's response and I have decided to not sell the gun at this time. If my position ever changes, I will contact you. Klaus. That's just ridiculous. Settling on the fact that we know where it is and not getting it back, that's just like super frustrating.

But I mean, there's gotta be something we can do. Scott says he's willing to pay whatever Klaus wants for the gun. So again, I contact Klaus. It's not a money issue, Klaus responds almost immediately. I am just not interested in selling a gun to an individual. I can't figure out what exactly Klaus means by an individual. Maybe in the past he sold guns to organizations or museums.

When I write him back, he responds with this. Based on the background information, I would not sell this gun back to Scott. So it's not really an individual per se, it's this individual. Scott's letter hadn't made Klaus feel sympathetic. It had made him feel nervous. Like with Scott's criminal past, a gun and a second chance

might not make for a great combo. If there was any hope, it's now gone. Well, I have an update. Update? Okay. A couple days later, I catch Scott at work. Yeah, I have another update. Um... Uh-huh?

It looks like Klaus is willing to sell the gun. Oh! You're kidding me. No, you were right. Oh. You were right to the guy. I probably would. I just thought, you know, it seems like the guy really wanted that item back. I just didn't want to be haunted about it.

I can't even believe it. But there was still one thing that Klaus hadn't changed his mind about, and I feel bad having to tell Scott. He is saying that he is willing to sell the gun, but he won't sell it to you. Klaus doesn't trust Scott. Bottom line. I mean, he doesn't know me. He doesn't know that I've become a contributing member of society. After everything Scott's done to redeem himself,

the rehab, the good works, Klaus's judgment stings. But Scott gets it. It's something he's experienced before. People accusing him of theft when things go missing. Women breaking things off when they learn he was once an addict. The world still sees Scott as a bad bet. But he sweeps aside his feelings to address the more pressing question, who can we get to buy the gun? The first person that comes to my mind is the person who's always believed in Scott

most. What about your sister? Yeah, absolutely. No, she would be totally open and willing to do that. Oh, 100 percent. Well, it looks like we're going to be buying a and willing to do that. Oh, 100%. Well, it looks like we're going to be buying a gun. Let's buy a gun, guys. Right.

Except we don't. After looking into Colorado's complicated gun laws, we learned that because Mary's not a full-time Colorado resident, it's illegal for her to buy the gun. So we discuss options. Scott's wife could buy it and give it to his dad, but that's also illegal. In Colorado, only blood relatives

can gift each other guns. We consider Uncle Bill totally legal, but Scott's worried he'd buy it and then want to keep it for himself. Out of viable family members, we consider getting a middleman to buy the gun from Klaus, then sell it to Scott, who can then give it to his dad. But as it turns out, Out of viable family members, we consider getting a middleman to buy the gun from Klaus,

then sell it to Scott, who can then give it to his dad. But as it turns out, there's a term for this, a straw purchase, and it's a federal felony. It's been nearly two weeks of phone calls with Scott, with lawyers, with the Colorado Firearms Unit, and with each passing day, I become increasingly nervous about Klaus changing his mind. So I present Scott with what might be our last remaining option. His dad, Wynn. Scott falls silent.

For the first time in the course of this quest, he seems defeated. The thought of placing his father Wynn, the man afraid of the crack-voiced pizza boy, in a room with Klaus, the man with the gun vault and the Luger that may or may not have belonged to Adolf Hitler, makes him wonder if maybe it's all just gone too far. But at this point, it's the only way to get the gun. So Scott agrees. Wyn will buy the Luger. After the break, Wynn and Klaus.

Hello. Hi. Scott and his dad, Wynn, meet me on the way to see Klaus. Hi. Mary's here, too. She's come along for support. Klaus told us to meet him at a gun shop, he knows, where they can run the necessary background check. We all get into Scott's car. People with microphones and stuff. Ha ha ha.

Scott's dad, Wyn, is seated up front. He's brought along the Luger's empty case, which sits on his lap. Wyn is bright-eyed and smiley, but knowing from Scott how shy and nervous his dad can be gives his jolliness a slightly forced quality. Oh, there's road work. Case in point, when our ETA gets pushed back due to road work,

Wynn bursts into song. Road work. Or this is Wynn as Scott tells us about his day. It's pretty dark day. Wynn is the one giggling in the background. I got four people into detox programs this morning. So a lot of distraught parents and overdosing teenagers to deal with this morning. The destination is on your left.

Maybe you can even pull in, oh what does it say, private parking? We pull into a parking lot and we all get out of the car. All except for Scott. After the way Klaus responded to his letter, he's afraid if he goes in, he'll blow the whole deal. Uh, we'll be right back. Cool. Well, have fun.

Yes. All right. From behind the windshield, Scott watches as his father ambles towards the gun shop, empty gun case in his hand. I can imagine how Scott's feeling. Scott already believes he's failed his dad in so many ways. Sending him to buy back his own gun in a rundown-looking gun shop with bars on the windows must feel like one more failing. Let's buy ourselves a gun. Time to buy a gun.

At the door, a large man wearing sunglasses and a holstered gun silently greets us. Wind ducks inside. The walls and shelves of the gun shop are full of Nazi medals, Nazi helmets, Nazi hats, belts, uniforms, guns, and swastika armbands. And at the center of it all is Klaus, who is, at present, chumily talking to a large-tattooed clerk with a white gotae. They quiet down when Windyn Mary and I approach. Hello. Hello.

Klaus appears to be in his 60s. He's a slight man with thinning, slick-back hair. Wyn walks over, smiling nervously, as Klaus turns to greet him. And then the grandson of a Nazi officer shakes hands with the son of an American soldier. As Mary and Klaus introduce themselves, I adjust the levels on my recorder. The goth-ade man has a look about him that says, I don't listen to podcasts.

Just the same, I take a deep breath, scoop my testes out of my MPR tote bag, and, in my best vocal approximation of Ira Glass, demand my journalistic rights. Uh, and, um, would it be okay if we were to be recording for the thing that we're doing in the background? Absolutely not. Okay. Absolutely not. Now, Cut it.

The Luger sits on a glass display counter. Winn walks over. That's it, he says. His father took it off of my grandfather, Klaus jokes, to the goth-aid man. The gun is pristine. Mary and I take turns holding it. It's heavier than we expect. Winn hands his driver's license over

for the background check. While we wait, there's an awkward silence. I consider asking if anyone's seen Mamma Mia 2 Here We Go Again, and if so, whether they thought the closing Super Trooper number at the Hotel Belladonna was a bit much. But before I can clear my throat of anxiety mucus, the background check is complete. After all the hoopla, it took all of ten minutes. Wyn gives Klaus the money and Klaus gives Wyn the gun. For perhaps the first time ever, the Luger changes hands without incident.

Klaus watches as Wyn carefully places the gun back into its case. Don't let it get out of the family anymore, he says, as the goth-aid man watches us wind our way to the exit. On the ride back, everyone is quiet. I imagine Scott is feeling relief. Mary, pride in her brother. But watching Wynne in the front seat, staring out the window, gun case at his feet, it's hard to say what he's feeling.

God, this is crazy to see. At Mary's apartment, we all huddle around the dining room table. Scott's grandfather's gun has been placed at the center. Scott and Mary marvel at it. Well, I'm amazed that the tag is still on it. Yeah, and then it has a number. Four, five, nine. Look at that. This is crazy. You understand how crazy this is?

If Wynn does understand how crazy this is. If Wyn does understand how crazy it is, it's hard to tell. There's something muted about his response. In fact, since we've entered the apartment, Wyn hasn't seemed interested in his father's gun at all. When Scott asks him if he'd like to hold it, he declines. While Scott and Mary pass their grandfather's gun between them, wind sits silently.

I try to draw him out. Did you put any hopes in ever getting that gun back? I thought it was unfortunate that it disappeared, but I wasn't saying, darn, I wish I could find that gun. It's just a material object. No one is sure what to say. Sure, it's a material object, but it's a material object that carries great meaning. It's a material object that connects him to his dad. I was not as close to my dad as I would like to have been. The guy with a glass of Scotch whiskey in his hand sitting in the easy chair, tossing

out criticisms as needed. The way you grow a better son is to criticize him. For the first time all day, Wynyn isn't cracking a silly joke or smiling. My main memory of my dad was being afraid of him. I remember one of my early memories is that I'd somehow succeeded in getting a bruised bone on my shin. And I was like three years old. And my mother was sufficiently concerned that she took me to the doctor and had it x-rayed. And it was, oh, how in the world did little Teddy,

that was me then, get a bruise on his bone? And I think what it is is I think I got kicked by a guy wearing size 12 wingtips. Scott's never heard this story before, and it seems almost like he doesn't want to believe it. Were there good parts about your relationship with him, if you had to name? If I had to name?

Hmm. I don't know. He was just kind of scary all the time. Winn explains that his relationship with his father wasn't the same as Bill's relationship with their father. I think I felt criticized mostly for not being as good as my brother. He always did well in school and I wasn't always so wondrous. And I always saw myself as a little more plump and a little less athletic.

Bill was always the louder voice in the room. So that Christmas, when Bill lectured Scott about the significance of the Luger, Scott had assumed Bill was speaking for his dad, too. But he wasn't. I saw it as this treasured possession that linked you to the good parts of grandpa. But your relationship with him is complicated and different than I even knew. Scott was right in believing that the gun was a reminder of Wynn's father and that it carried a lot of meaning for Wynn.

He just misunderstood the nature of that meaning. To know that like Scott had been thinking about it all these years, even maybe past year having thought about it, how does that make you feel? It makes me feel loved, that he would make it a part of his life to try to track it down. It feels like maybe I was at least partially successful in not being like my dad. Yeah. That I was somebody he could run over to and climb up in the lap of when he was little and stick his fingers up my nose. He used to like to do that.

I could never stick my fingers up my dad's nose. I did. Wynn looks over at his son. Don't let it bother you anymore. The greatest prize that I got out of this whole thing was the fact that even though all this crap disappeared, I got to get my boy back. The funeral plot that I had bought for myself to be next to your mom, I thought I was going to have to bury my son in it. And I am delighted that I never had

to do that. That's ever so much better. Maybe eight years ago, during Wynne's visit to Scott in jail, it wasn't the missing gun that had made him cry. It was missing his son. But now, the gun tells a different story. The gun has grown, so it's not just my dad anymore. It has a whole story to tell about my son and it's back. Returned by this guy here. Thank you for doing all that.

Of course. A few weeks later, I get this text from Scott. The other night, it reads, I stumbled upon a World War II documentary. And for the first time in eight years, Scott didn't change the channel. Now that the furniture's returning to its goodwill home Now that the last month's rent is scheming with the damage deposit Take this moment to decide If we meant it, if we tried We felt around for far too much From things that accidentally taught us Scott? Hey, Scott!

Scott? Hello, how are you? I'm good, how are you? Guest. Good. I'm good. This is kind of suiting that we're out of sync. I'm good, how are you? Yes. Good. I'm good. This is kind of suiting that we're out of sync. This is exactly what happened during our first interview. Do you remember?

I remember. That is suiting. Yeah, I just wanted to catch up with you and see what's changed. I mean, the biggest change is my dad passing away. Oh, I'm so sorry to hear this Thank you. I mean it's It was truly in his style of how he let us know that he had liver cancer was a

group text message and the words were I have Terminal cancer and there's nothing that they say I can do And the words were, I have terminal cancer, and there's nothing that they say I can do. Very sad news, oh no, kind of a thing. And that was in alignment with his wanting to avoid talking over the phone. Yeah, he wouldn't even talk with the pizza delivery guy.

Yeah, and so then it was, yeah, it was about a year, a little over a year, a little over a year from when he sent out that mass text that he passed away. Do you think that returning the Luger changed your relationship with your dad in his last years? Our relationship opened up on a much deeper level after this. And I mean, that's the full circle part of it is you go back to, you know, those early days, my dad changing the locks on his house.

So you go from that fear of me to cut to 15 years later, I was the only person with a key to his house. I was the one that was at his bedside all throughout him declining through this disease. And then I was the executor of his estate. Like I'm the one combing through and looking through all of these things to figure out what sentimental belongings to hold onto and what to let go of. Where is the gun now?

After my dad was diagnosed, he had offered the gun to me. Oh. And he said, I would like you to have this just because of all of the work and everything you did to get it back. But it meant so much more to my uncle, you know. Yeah. So it's actually Uncle Bill who has the gun now. Scott, thank you so much for talking.

Yeah, absolutely. Thanks to everyone who helped put this episode together. Thanks to everyone who helped put this episode together. We'll be back next week with another Encore presentation and along with it, another update from our guest. This is an iHeart Podcast.