About Us

“Honor Thy Father and Thy Mother”: A Son’s Mission to Protect Others

My story begins with the sudden passing of my mother in July 2024.

For the last several years, my mom had been struggling — physically and mentally. By 2022, she was nearly crippled and had very limited mobility. Despite all that, she was still working at 74 years old while also taking care of my father, who was disabled. She was isolated, depressed, and exhausted. Her only real connection to the outside world — her only joy — was through social media. She loved staying in touch with me, her grandkids, and her nieces and nephews.

That was my mom. Independent. Strong. Fiercely private. She didn’t want to be a burden on anyone, especially me. I lived eight hours away and did everything I could to offer help — hospice care, local services, anything. But she always said no. I think deep down, she just didn’t want anyone to see how bad things had gotten.

After she passed, I had to go back to her home and start sorting through her belongings — not just to grieve, but to figure out how to care for my dad. He depended on her entirely. As I went through her things, I opened a drawer in her desk — and there they were: a stack of gift cards. My heart sank.

I work in cybersecurity. I’ve helped companies recover from ransomware, exposed sophisticated scams, and secured financial systems. So when I saw those cards, I knew exactly what I was looking at. And I knew exactly what it meant.

Just on her desk alone, I found over $10,000 in gift cards. That was only the beginning.

I started digging through her devices, old receipts, photos, and messages. She had been withdrawing cash, sending cashier’s checks, buying gift cards in $500 and $1000 amounts — sometimes daily. I found images she’d taken of scratched-off cards, screenshots of messages from strangers asking for money, and social media conversations with people pretending to be long-lost friends, religious leaders, even IRS agents.

My mother had been targeted and taken advantage of — over and over. Romance scams. Investment scams. Religious scams. Tax scams. All of them.

Even after she passed, I could see scam messages still lighting up her phone. We couldn’t unlock it, but we could see previews. They didn’t stop — not even after she was gone.

And the hardest part? I was right there. I was her son. I’m an IT security specialist. If she had just asked — if she had just hinted that something didn’t feel right — I could’ve helped her. But she never said a word.

About two weeks before she passed, she did come to me and ask one odd question. She told me someone had contacted her, saying they knew her from high school. She didn’t remember him, and asked how someone might have found her online. My internal alarms went off. I warned her — in detail — about how scammers operate. I told her to never, ever send money. She said to me, “I know. Why would I ever give someone money over the Internet?”

Those words gave me comfort. I thought she was okay.

She wasn’t.

In the weeks after her death, as I continued putting the pieces together, I realized she had been scammed out of hundreds of thousands of dollars over several years. And it shattered me.

But after the heartbreak, came the anger. And after the anger… came purpose.

The Fifth Commandment says, “Honor thy father and thy mother.” I couldn’t help my mother the way I wanted to when she was alive. But I can honor her now.

So I made a vow: I would use my skills, my experience, and her story to educate and protect others — especially the elderly — from these predators.

While getting my father situated in a senior living center, I shared what had happened with one of the staff members. She asked me a question that changed everything:

“Would you be willing to give a seminar on elder scams?”

I said yes.

I had never done anything like it before. I wasn’t sure where to start. But I knew my story. And I knew the signs people needed to see. I didn’t want to be paid. I wanted to do it in honor of my mom — from the heart, not for profit.

When I gave that first seminar, I was amazed. The room was full. People were engaged. They asked smart questions. They cared. Many of them came up to me afterward to thank me — and to share that they or someone they loved had almost been a victim.

That’s when I knew: This was what I was meant to do.

If I can help just one person avoid what happened to my mom — if I can stop one scammer from reaching one vulnerable soul — then I’ve done something meaningful. I’ve honored my mother.

So now, that’s my mission: to educate, protect, and bring awareness to the very real threat of elder scams. I offer these seminars for free, with no strings attached, because that’s what my mother would’ve wanted.

Thank you for listening to my story.

If your organization or community would benefit from a seminar on scam prevention — whether for seniors, caretakers, or families — please don’t hesitate to reach out. I would be honored to speak with you.

Scotty R.

“Honor thy father and thy mother.”