Survival Skills Couldn’t Stop Tragic Decline Man Who Died In Custody Ex-Fairchild Teacher

Scott Waterhouse started to die in the back of a patrol car last week, his belly allegedly full of drugs.

Less than an hour later, he was dead.

Yet, three years ago, he wasn’t a small-time drug dealer. Life was quite different.

He taught pilots how to survive and resist interrogation if captured behind enemy lines. Waterhouse, 30, was a survival instructor at Fairchild Air Force Base for nine years, one of an elite group.

“I could write a book about him,” said staff Sgt. Brian Oldham, a former roommate who hadn’t spoken to Waterhouse since he left the Air Force.

“We knew each other really well for a long time. I’m not really surprised that he’s dead. From everything I heard, it sounded like he was on a slow slide.”

Waterhouse, a handsome man with bright blue eyes and light blond hair, plummeted from survival instructor to minor-league drug dealer. In the last few years of his life, Waterhouse slid through tragedies, friends said.

His younger brother died in a car accident. He fell into drugs. His estranged wife landed in prison on theft and forgery charges. Their four children were farmed out to two of his wife’s aunts. His former girlfriend fled with their son from his abuse.

Waterhouse left the military in 1993, narrowly avoiding a court martial for possessing Air Force property. Some explosives were found in his home, friends said, and he left to avoid more trouble.

Fairchild officials wouldn’t confirm why Waterhouse left.

But Waterhouse missed his job. He still asked people to call him “Aqua,” his Air Force nickname. He made his girlfriend bundle up in thick layers for a trip to the 7-Eleven. To impress people, he trotted out his credentials as an instructor in survival training.

“It’s a neat job, but he was a head case,” said his former girlfriend, Linda Woodward, an exotic dancer who left Waterhouse more than a year ago.

Waterhouse lived with her but didn’t work, she said. He acted like a survival instructor - harassing, insulting and interrogating her, Woodward said. He was jealous and complained if she came home five minutes late.

Then his younger brother Keith died in a car crash in 1993.

Scott Waterhouse rode a train home to New Hampshire for his brother’s funeral. He told relatives he wanted to move back East and get his life together. That didn’t happen, and his family didn’t hear from him for months.

In March 1994, Waterhouse spoke to his father. The two argued.

“He and I had a few words,” said David Waterhouse, who lives in Barrington, N.H. “I didn’t think it was anything (important) at the time. That’s the last time I talked to him.”

That year, Waterhouse started using and dealing drugs - crack cocaine, cocaine and methamphetamine, Woodward said.

He wasn’t working. He became mentally and sometimes physically abusive, Woodward said. She now lives in Portland, with her children, including the couple’s 2-year-old son.

In February 1995, Waterhouse’s estranged wife, Valerie, was sent to prison. She pleaded guilty to stealing a saddle and firearms, and forging checks in Pomeroy, Wash. She is scheduled to be released in July 1997.

One aunt was named legal guardian of the couple’s two daughters. Another aunt was named guardian of the two sons.

The girls’ guardian said she wasn’t sure what to tell them about their father.

“How would you feel if your mother was in prison and your father might have died of a drug overdose?” she asked. “It sounds like something from the streets of New York City. This has just been a real stunner.”

Waterhouse’s slide ended in the early hours of Jan. 23.

Officers pulled over his car for a traffic violation about 1 a.m. and learned there was a warrant for his arrest on a traffic charge. They put him in the back of the patrol car.

“This guy was real cooperative with officers,” police spokesman Dick Cottam said. “He was very friendly and chatting with them. The whole thing was a relatively minor deal - until he went into seizures.”

Toxicology results on the suspected drugs he swallowed are due in a week.

“He told me if he ever got pulled over or anything and he had drugs, he’d eat them,” Woodward said. “He thought the plastic (wrapping) would protect him.”

Two days after Waterhouse died, police tracked down his family in New Hampshire and woke up David Waterhouse’s wife.

“She looked out the front window and saw an officer,” David Waterhouse said. “He was the same officer who rang the doorbell 28 months ago with the same news: Our son was dead.

“I know he was broken-hearted over the loss of his brother. He may have been broken-hearted over the falling out with me.”

, DataTimes