At St. Cloud Commons, the sound of children playing fills the air.

St. Cloud boasts Cabell County's first all-inclusive playground with playground equipment designed for every child no matter their physical abilities.

This evening, the playground plays host to about a dozen children laughing and chasing each other, enjoying the last bit of sunlight left and the cooling temperatures.

Sara Lingenfelter is watching her daughters, Molly and McKenna, enjoy the slide and artificial tree on the playground.

The Lingenfelters are from Barboursville and the girls are burning off some steam following their brother's baseball game.

"This park is wonderful," Sara says. "It's nice to see something like this here for the community."

As the Lingenfelters leave, a commotion stirs on the other side of the playground.

A young boy playfully torments three young girls on a seat that spins.

"Stop spinning us, Scott!" one of the girls yells.

Like any young boy the cries go unheeded and he just spins them harder until an adult intervenes.

"All right, go do something else," Jason Hicks tells the youngster.

The reporter sits down and catches the young man as he is speeding by with a question.

"What's your name?" the reporter asked.

"Scott," the little boy says.

"Hey. That's my name, too," the reporter said.

"Hey Jason! He says his name is Scott, too," the young man yells at the adult tasked with supervising this young perpetual motion machine.

"What's your last name, Scott?" the reporter asked.

"Parsons. I'm Scott Parsons," the boy said.

That's when the day got weird for the reporter, also named Scott Parsons.

"No way! That's my name, too. I'm Scott Parsons," the reporter said.

With that, the young Scott and the three girls who were with him stopped playing and focused on the man sitting on the bench.

"You're name's not Scott Parsons. You're making that up," the younger Scott said.

"I'll show you my driver's license," the reporter said as he reached for his wallet.

"Wow! He is a Scott Parsons, too," exclaimed Zoe Hicks who, along with Aaliyah Hull and Kaleigh Parsons were with young Scott Parsons at the park.

Jason Hicks brings the youngsters to the park almost every evening, he said.

"We all have bicycles and we only live a few blocks away," Hicks said. "We ride our bikes down here and it lets them burn off some energy after being in school all day."

Hicks said they have been coming to St. Cloud for quite a while. They will use the playground, play on the baseball and softball fields, and explore the creek.

"It's good to just let them be kids," Hicks said.

Watching the children play, the reporter notices that the younger Scott has a different type of accent. His accent has a richer country sound to it.

"Scott, where are your from?" the reporter asks.

"I'm from East Lynn," the boy said.

"He's from someplace out there," Hicks said. Younger Scott and his sister live with Hicks. It's an expanded family that seems to be working.

While Hicks describes how to get to the area where Scott is from, the directions start to sound familiar.

"Is he from Mill Creek?" the reporter asks.

"That sounds right," Hicks said.

More names were discussed and familial connections were made and it was determined that the reporter, the older Scott Parsons, and the younger Scott Parsons are leaves on different branches of the same family tree.

"Buddy, I think we're two nuts from the same tree," the reporter says to the younger Scott.

"You mean we're acorns?" he asks.

"Yeah, buddy. Something like that."

Hicks tells everyone to get to their bikes, as it was growing darker and time to get home, and the children comply.

"I'll bet he's a handful," the reporter comments.

"He doesn't stop moving," Hicks said. "He runs on the tips of his toes. He'll wear out a pair of shoes in a month."

"Do you get good grades in school?" the reporter asks all the kids as they get on their bikes. The girls answer yes. Scott has a different answer.

"Sort of. I get Cs," he said.

"Well, so did I. We must be related," the reporter said with a laugh.

With the sun below the horizon and a fog settling in, the day in Huntington comes to a close. But not before a distant voice is heard.

"Goodbye, Scott! It was nice to meet you!" rings out as the third-grader's waving shadow fades into the mist.

"You too, Scott. Do good in school and be a good boy!" the reporter yelled back. "Other Scott Parsonses are counting on you!"

"I will!" he closed.

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