Scott Haberman passed away unexpectedly at the age of 57 on Oct. 1, 2026. He is leaving behind a world made better, warmer, and more beautiful by his presence.
His passing leaves such a profound loss for all those who loved him, but it also leaves something extraordinary: a lifetime of memories, countless acts of kindness, friendships that were family, and a love that touched all those around him.
Scott was a truly magical human being. Honest and sincere, courageous and gentle, deeply loving and endlessly funny, he possessed a rare ability to make people feel that they belonged.
His humor was contagious, often mischievous, and his creativity around being a prankster never ceased to amaze.
A love for the ocean and the outdoors
Scott was deeply connected with the ocean and water. He loved to fish, dive, boat and swim. The ocean had a deeper meaning for Scott. He understood the immense power alongside its profound peace, perhaps symbolizing the balance he carried within himself: strength and gentleness, adventure and stillness, wildness and calm.
He was equally drawn to the mountains and the outdoors, where he was a skilled and enthusiastic adventurer/camper.
He shared nature’s boundless lessons with his grandkids and nephews, teaching them how to respect its rhythms, and learn how to exist within it. Through him, he established an early love for the outdoors that built a foundation for a lifetime in nature.
A builder of homes, and of belonging
Scott was a builder in every sense of the word. He built homes with his hands, relationships with his heart, and a sense of belonging wherever he went.
He built his own home from the ground up, creating a place that was unmistakably his both inside and out. It is a reflection of his creativity and his deep appreciation for the life he and Alyssa shared.
Surrounded by cactus and succulents that he curated, it is a mirror of Baja, a place Scott and Alyssa loved dearly.
You can catch the familiar scent of the sea air in the afternoon breezes and the pink sunsets from their deck. Both seem to warm your soul and will be a forever reminder of Scott. The most remarkable part was what happened when you walked through the door.
If you were in Scott’s house, you were part of his family. There was always room for one more, always a place at the table, and always a welcome that made you feel you belonged.
At the holidays, Scott always extended an invite to anyone who didn’t have a place to go. All were welcome without question and the table was forever crowded, spirited, and comforting.
A warm fire was often burning in the hearth, the crackling wood was a constant invitation to come inside, sit around, and feel the love. In many ways, that fire was Scott himself: warm, generous, reassuring, and capable of bringing people together simply by being there.
If you are at the table, you are family
Scott loved to cook, and was a master on the grill. Endless tri-tip, steak and lobster, or whatever could be cooked over an open fire, he understood that a meal was about so much more than what was on the plate, and that the drive to Santa Ynez to his favorite butcher was never too far to go.
Of course, an open fire was rarely just an open fire with Scott. Most times, they were started with some kind of homemade flamethrower, because that was his way. Full gas!
Scott’s hospitality was an instinct, never a chore. His meals created memories and his gatherings became traditions, creating a huge family of those around him.
A gentle giant and a forever friend
Scott had a special love for animals, particularly his dogs, who were often giants in size but invariably gentle in spirit. They seemed, in their own way, to reflect the man who loved them. Mocha, Enzon, Mako, Khana, they all carried an unmistakable strength, yet offered a unique sweetness and quiet companionship.
That combination was deeply Scott-like. He possessed a strength that required no announcement, an immense courage that was so quiet, and a gentleness that made others feel safe.
He lived with a remarkable commitment to being genuinely himself; living authentically, loving wholeheartedly, and accepted everyone for who they were. His friendships were built on sincerity, loyalty, laughter, and a willingness to show up when it mattered.
A lot of people will remember Scott as a friend, but more often than not, also considered a best friend.
A brother, a father, a husband, and a legacy of love
Above all, Scott was a man whose life was woven into the lives of the people he loved.
He leaves behind a beloved wife, Alyssa; her son Lucien (Amiyo); his son Max; his cherished grandchildren Ayla and Arlo; his brother Brett (Sarah), nephews Asher and Bodi, who to this day, still call him “Uncle Sock;” and family Lynn Remington, Norm (predeceased) and Jane Habermann, Lisa and Mark LaFaille (daughters Kate and Lauren), and Steve Brillhart (Denile).
For all those he touched, Scott’s legacy will live in the lessons he taught, the adventures he made possible, and the confidence he inspired to explore the world with curiosity and openness.
The family Scott gathered around him will live on in the traditions, memories and values he leaves behind. The house that created a home, the future being built in Baja, the love baked into every Saturday morning pancake or Dutch Baby, and the unquestionable acceptance you had in being his friend.
Scott has reminded us that life is not measured only in what we accomplish or what we leave behind, but in how people felt because we were here.
Did they feel welcomed? Did they feel loved? Did they laugh a little harder, feel a little safer, or find the courage to experience something new? Did they know that, no matter what, there would be a place for them at the table?
We have lost one of the greats, a rare and beautiful soul. May the ocean he loved bring us peace; may the mountains he explored remind us of his enduring strength; may the door always be open for us to come in and feel the love.
There will be a Paddle Out in Scott’s honor and memory, 3 p.m. Saturday, Oct. 24 at Leadbetter Beach in Santa Barbara. Please feel free to join at the beach or in the water.