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BORN
1937
DIED
2018
FUNERAL HOME
575 South Snelling Avenue
Saint Paul, Minnesota
John SCANLAN Obituary
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Memories and Condolences
for John SCANLAN
Sponsored by St Paul Pioneer Press.
Alice LaBarre
October 25, 2023
John....one of the kindest man I have ever known.
Blessed be his memory.
Alice LaBarre
Dorothy Scanlan
October 25, 2020
He was an amazing, kind, and considerate man, who changed my life after I became deaf. It is a debt that can never be repaid. Meeting him was a blessing. He was a true friend and an outstanding psychiatrist.
From Frank Zondlo, M.D.
November 21, 2019
John's Prayer Card: In Loving Memory of John M. Scanlan
It had a Gaelic Cross on one side. On the other, the Prayer of Cardinal Newman:
May Christ support us
all the day long
Till the shadows lengthen,
and the evening comes,
and the busy world is hushed,
and the fever of life is o'er,
and our work is done.
Then in His mercy may He
give us a safe lodging
and a holy rest,
and peace at the last.
Amen.
Goodnight, Sweet John, Goodnight and take your rest.
November 17, 2019
The day that John wore his hearing aids for the first time, he got out of his truck, stopped, and realized he hadn't heard the birds sing for months. He was so pleased.
John with the MHHI Team
November 16, 2019
Dancing at Norah's and Mark's Wedding, 9/98
November 16, 2019
November 14, 2019
I wanted to find a photograph that could capture my fathers humor and bright intelligence, his wisdom and strength in advocating for causes and people, his drive to make things better.
Underneath all of it though is this current of love, this being seen and held in love.
I am so grateful for all of it.
I love you so much Papa.
Martha
Beth Scanlan
November 13, 2019
What a gift to be loved like this.
For as long as we live, they too will live,
for they are now a part of us as We remember them.
Sarah Boggess
November 13, 2019
From my earliest memories, you were always genuinely interested in what people had to say, starting with us.
You demonstrated that hearing is passive and that listening is intentional and engaging.
Throughout your life, you encouraged the importance of being open to the voices of others, and were always looking for ways to make that easier and more accessible.
In doing that, you helped people to find their voices, and to use them ... and to listen as well.
Thank you for always listening ... from the very beginning.
I miss you and love you, Papa - always and forever.
November 13, 2019
November 11, 2019 Veterans' Day, Armistice Day
There was a Service of Gratitude at Northrop Auditorium, for the families and friends of those generous people who, along with John, donated their bodies to the University of Minnesota's Health Sciences Programs.
There sere 700 of these donations in the past 12 months, and Northrop Auditorium seemed almost filled, so there were about 2300 people there.
I am posting some links to this extraordinary Service. We could not get over how many students from the Health Sciences Programs were there to help, how much thought and work and sincere gratitude had gone into the evening.
I am posting some links to the Service. Particularly memorable and moving were the photos of the people who donated their bodies.
And as a postlude to the program, there were Service/Therapy Dogs in the lobby, to be petted and fussed over. And, courtesy of the Veterinary School, a Therapy Chicken. I have yet to hear of a Therapy Cat.
Service of Gratitude Links
Invitation
https://med.umn.edu/sites/med.umn.edu/files/2019_service_of_gratitude_print_invite_master_0.pdf
Program
https://med.umn.edu/sites/med.umn.edu/files/2019_sog_program_final.pdf
Video
https://mediaspace.umn.edu/media/t/0_j6guj1yl
The dock at the Bullet - Ely, Minnesota
Beth Scanlan
November 11, 2019
I love this picture of Papa on the dock in Ely, from one of our many summers spent there together with our families. He is peaceful and surrounded by beauty and love. I miss you and love you Papa.
Papa and me, Oregon.
Norah Garrison
November 11, 2019
On one of our beloved family vacations in Oregon. So grateful for all that you shared with us, Papa! Miss you and love you always, Norah
Germany - Papa and me, 2 years old.
Rachel Scanlan
November 10, 2019
So much love, always enough to go around. He made us all feel loved and important. Weren't we lucky?
I love you and miss you, Papa, and am so grateful.
October 28, 2019
October 26th, 2019
It''s eaxactly one year since John died. We remembered it by getting together (Martha, in Montana, joined us in spirit). We ate well and watched old videos. Sometime in the early 90's we had acquired a video camera, and had such a good time recording, some of the videos to be sent to people not living in town (we never sent them). We had film of weddings, birthday parties for the Littles, ordinary days, footage from vacations in Ely, at a resort called by others, the Silver Rapids Lodge, and by us, the Bullet.
But it was such fun seeing the little Grands, the dogs, and John in his prime, dancing, laughing, canoeing, playing with the Littles, joking, singing and teasing.
And extraordinary and distinctive flowers from The Grands:
Dear Grandma:
We are so lucky to be carrying the lessons and love Grandpa taught us simply by being himself. We can feel him with us every day, in every way. We will be thinking of you this weekend and sending you all our love.
And a text from Hannah:
things i am remembering about grandpa today:
-how attentively he listened to everyone around him, whether that was hazel telling him about the tea set she was playing with, or grandma telling him how well-done she wanted her steak cooked.
-him teaching us to play cards.
-his dedication to the rules, and his gentleness and grace when other people broke them. (again, especially with cards!)
-how generous he was with his time and attention.
-his laugh.
-how much he loved music, and learning, and trees, and nature.
-how fully he believed in the people around him.
-his dedication to helping people, especially in his work.
-how evidently clear he made, every minute, the amount that he loved grandma and every member of our family.
i see him in so many things, but mostly in you and your sisters. i love you so much, and i wish i could be with you today. i'm listening to Turning towards the morning and thinking of him
October 22, 2019
St. Patrick's Day (again):
John's favorite t-shirts: one of my favorites among John's favorite t-shirts, is the O'Gara's one. It's a conventional knit golf shirt, with the O'Gara's logo. John wore it with a tie, absolutely unheard of; I have never seen that before or since. And of course, it was a St. Patrick's Day tie. He had a well-developed sense of benign mischief, which stopped short of cruelty or malice.
Alice LaBarre
October 16, 2019
A hero to his staff and the deaf patients:
When I think of Dr John Scanlan I remember a kind man of action. He learned of a need for psychiatric services to persons who were deaf or hard of hearing and quickly developed one of the few programs in the nation for both inpatient and out patient for persons deaf and hard of hearing in the late 1970s at St Paul Ramsey Hospital, now Regions Hospital.
I was a teacher of students who were deaf and hard of hearing at St Paul Technical College. I had no counseling training at this time and so I sought out the Ramsey County Mental Health Center.
We met a social worker whose boss was Dr John Scanlan. When he heard of this new patient he said there must be other persons who are deaf who need mental health services too There were none at this time.
JMS as we called him quickly began learning about deafness and started learning sign language. Before he became fluent he was able to read sign language...a good thing for a psychiatrist. It is also unusual for sign language learners to read it skillfully before being fluent themselves.
JMS took every opportunity to learn about the deaf culture by going to deaf community gatherings, workshops and national meetings on deafness. As the Director of the Psychiatric Unit at Ramsey Hospital he soon began to hire staff fluent in sign language as well as persons who were deaf themselves, a deaf social worker a community outreach worker a deaf Psychologist and sign language interpreters.
After I got a counseling degree he hired me as an outpatient therapist and facilitated my getting training in treating deaf persons who were sexually abused. He and I went to many national conferences to present and both of us consulted at the Boys Town National program in Omaha NE. We learned that students who live in dormitories are particularly vulnerable to abuse. Often perpetrators said they cant tell? We learned that if you asked the question about abuse in a way the patient could understand the answer may often be yes....and treatment would begin.
Sensitive, kind, caring, wise creative and patient are the adjectives I would use to describe my friend and mentor JMS
Alice LaBarre
October 9, 2019
THE BEARTOOTH
In one of the photos, John is standing with Darby, our St. Bernard dog, on top of the gorgeous Beartooth Pass, between Montana and Wyoming. It is much more civilized now, with a parking lot and railed walkways, but when we were there, in the 70's ?, there was nothing except us, tiny meerkats and a spectacular (if scary, for some) view. Obviously, John is not scared.
October 9, 2019
JOHN ON CALL
Looking over older photos, I note that everytime there's a picture of John, unless he's on vacation, he is wearing a pager on his belt. Before the pager, there was an answering service, so doctors always had to be near a phone. After the pagers, cell phones were developed.
It looks to me as if John was on call most of his adult life, night and day. He never minded it, never complained; it was just part of the drill,as it is for most first responders, police, and firemen.
Some of the working hours were harder, 12 on, 12 off. He never complained, but one time, when he was an Intern at Cook County, he fell asleep over dinner, while eating french fries.
September 30, 2019
In one of the photos of John, he's smiling and wearing a hard hat, not a stethoscope. The occasion was the groundbreaking of the site of the new Neighborhood House, for which he helped raise funds.
The caption below the photo is from his speech on the day he was elected to the Honorary Board of Neighborhood House. It is a great honor.
This is the caption: At Neighborhood House, I see children of many colors and hear many accents.
What I've come to realize is that, despite their differences, the children are blind to the colors and deaf to the accents. All they see is friends.
John really and truly believed that. If you woke him in the middle of the night, you would hear the same thing.
September 27, 2019
https://www.tpt.org/food-that-matters-donations-that-count/
This is a link to a production about the Food Drive that John organized at BCBS, for Neighborhood House. It clearly shows how much fun he made it, and also reflects his thinking on organization, major social issues, and the hows and whys of successfully involving management in community projects.
September 26, 2019
September 26, 2019
September 26, 2019
September 21, 2019
A NOTE FROM PAYJAY
John's older brother, Patrick, called Payjay by the family, lost his lovely wife, Char, back in March of this year. He sent along this note:
I find it interesting that the big things in her being gone I thought would loom largest do not- but those little things - Guess who I saw today ... or What's on TV tonight .... or Where do we keep the..... Even though we sat in our chairs quietly reading or watching the tube, that very silent presence of her played a far bigger role in my life than I realized or appreciated. I guess I'm unfolding a more profound definition of marriage for myself.
As I put it to my kids, God loaned me an angel for 65 years. And you truly had a noble knight. What more can we ask ?
September 8, 2019
a note about racing down a serene Summit Avenue on a Sunday morning; he always won the race. I don't know how, he never cheated, but he always won, even with a van full of my Mom and all the kids.
September 6, 2019
BACK TO MINNESOTA
In 1972, we left glorious California, and moved back to St. Paul. Life in California was so sweet: not only did they grow geraniums in hedges, while MN grew geraniums on windowsills, but living in the San Francisco Bay area, the purple fog came in every night across the Bay, while the white fog came in every night from the Coastal Range.
Nevertheless, our parents were aging, it was time to take our turn to help, and besides, as clumsy as it sounds, our kids and we as a family never knew the Sacraments: Baptism, Extreme Unction, Matrimony, because we were transient people. So it was time to change. Again.
It wasn't easy adjusting to the Midwest: no fog, no ocean, 4 seasons, but we did it. Leaving California was hard, but what the heck, we had left Europe, so we must know how to do this?
John had a good appointment with an exciting Psychiatrist, at St. Paul Ramsey Hospital (now Regions), who recognized that Scanlan had a lot of ideas and gave him freedom to put them into place. (I was talking to John's chief one time at a party, and as he was talking to me, someone passed by and he greeted her in Tagalog). Scanlan used to say that when Vic wanted to be really impenetrable, he would slip into another language. I think he probably spoke ten languages.)
Anyway, we arrived in MN in July of 1972. In November of 1972, my beloved Mother had a very severe stroke. (She lived until 1979, with my Father doing most of her care, along with us, and the help of home health aides.)
But on Sundays, my Dad loved his Church, in an area a couple of hours away, so the family signed up to take care of my Mother on those days, so my Dad could go to his Church.
On our Sundays, I would drive over to my folks' house house early to staff my Mom, so my Dad could leave. Later on in the day, John would take the kids to the Doughnut shop on University Avenue, and they would pick out doughnuts, and then they would drive over to my folks' home, and we would load my Mom up on a ramp (made by loving sons-in -law), and we would take off and race down Summit Avenue, Scanlan and my Mother in the wheelchair, with the kids, and me alone in my red Ford Escort, racing to see who would get to our house first.
Thank God those were serene Sunday mornings in St. Paul.. History does not record who got there first or how often. And Heaven only knows what my Beloved Mother thought of the whole deal.
Norah was born in St. Paul.
September 4, 2019
CHRISTMAS WITH SCANLAN
One Christmastime, after seeing all of our neighbors' Christmas decorations, John wondered whether we should take our turn and activate the shed. This idea came to nought. He was absolutely delighted to see someone's outdoor display of the creche, bracketed by two Hallowe'en leaf bags.
Another Christmastime, after some suggestions from him that we tone it down or something like that (which I considered equally unpleasant), we discussed it, and John afterward announced to someone that he was not authorized or qualified to discuss changes in the Christmas mores.
He used to turn up the recording of Handel's Messiah REALLY LOUD when he was putting lights on the Christmas tree. His favorite recording was Joan Sutherland's and Grace Bumbry's.
Another year, he gave me the Star Wars' R2D2 robot for Christmas. Martha was decorating the house on Christmas morning, while I was at Church, and heard this disembodied voice saying, again and again, Hey, RD with no results. I THINK she eventually told him the command was Hey, R2, which eventually worked, and I loved my R2.
During our Cathedral of St. Paul years, all of us sang in the choirs and rang bells for 3 or 4 services. (There was always at least one Santa Claus in the Midnight mass congregation.) After that, we would drive down to St. Paul Ramsey Hospital, go up on the Psych Ward, and wish staff and patients Merry Christmas. Then home to a glorious brunch. That was before the Grands.
September 3, 2019
It was sometime in the 80's that John (by this time quite fluent in American Sign Language ASL) thought he would pursue some time in China utilizing sign language and a Medical Degree in Psychiatry. I have no idea how this came up, but he wrote an inquiring letter to Peking.
Here is their response:
Dear Dr. Scanlan,
This is to acknowledge the receipt of your letter. We appreciate the friendly sentiments shown in your letter that you wish to work in China with your family, but I am sorry for the difficulties in our arrangements.
With best regards,
Sincerely yours,
Liaison Division,
Foreign Affairs Bureau
Ministry of Health
Peking, China
Heaven only knows what the Chinese thought of his offer, but I believe that it was during this political period in China, where the population was encouraged to have only one child, preferably male, and here was this guy with five daughters. He moved on, never again offering his services to another country. But I think he had a philosophy of If you don't ask, you'll never know.
September 2, 2019
John's Illnesses
Looking over John's medical history, it's surprising how much he achieved, since he was seriously ill so often.
John's chest problems began when he was 21 or so. He remembers sitting on his front porch, within shouting distance of St. Thomas College, as his class was graduating, in June of 1959. He could hear some of the program, but wasn't there, because his right lung had collapsed, a Pneumothorax. He was to endure at least 9 more between 1959 and 1974.
The diagnosis remained the same during those years, but initially the only treatment was rest, generally two weeks or so, and later on, insertion of a chest tube, to promote scarring (which would kept the lung inflated). Again, during those first years, diagnosis was made by stethoscope, labwork and x-rays; there was nothing else. CT Scans weren't available until 2000 or so.
In Spring of 1974, he had a Talc Insertion Procedure, again, to promote scarring.
In Spring of 1976, he had a Pleurectomy (removal of the lining of the lung), again, to promote scarring.
Inbetween times, he had a Lung Cancer scare, a hospitalization for Megaviral Pneumonia (very like Legionnaire's Disease), and numerous bouts of Pneumonia.
He wasn't diagnosed with MAC, Mycobacterium Aveum Complex, until 2015. MAC is caused by an almost universal bacterium; it is a non-contagious cousin to TB, and while it is so common, only people with compromised lungs become infected.
Besides lung problems, he had
a Hernia Repair
Back Surgery
MOHS Procedures
Prostate Surgery
Trigger Finger surgery
a Heart Attack with Stent Insertion
John had always practiced medicine in a teaching hospital, often affiliated with a University, and he always thought he had the best medical care available. And during these difficult times, he never lost his sweet disposition.
August 30, 2019
John never shied away from giving advice or direction; in fact, his "What works best for me..." became a gentle family tease, sometimes accompanied by eye-rolling.
August 26, 2019
At John's Memorial Service, in her Eulogy, Beth alluded to unequal recess/ play space for boys and girls in grade school, and how Scanlan did something about it.
John went to the school and measured the separate spaces, just by walking them, went to the school, and then wrote this letter to the Pioneer Press, who published it:
We read with interest the Feb. 22 Dispatch article on the play pattern of little girls. The article points out that 10 and 11-year-old-girls tend to limit their body movements, play turn-taking games, and play in small groups. Boys the same age are roaring on the playing fields in large groups, competing in team sports. However, the article did not address the issue of space available.
Our daughters complained to us about the lack of play space at our local school, where the playgrounds were divided by age and sex. Out of curiosity we took the trouble to measure the spaces, and were dismayed to find that boys were allotted 10 times the space, per child, as girls. It is hard to get much of a large group competitive team sport going when the space is approximately one square foot per girl child, on a sidewalk and boulevard.
When we asked about this, school officials explained that girls that age just want to stand and talk anyway, and boys need more room.
Our point is that sometimes opportunities for play styles simply aren't the same, sometimes for very foolish reasons.
As Beth noted, the school policy was changed. It's interesting to note that John did not name/shame the school. That was his style: he would, if he deemed it necessary, and he did, when it came time.
August 26, 2019
Last week, Rachel and I drove up to Fergus Falls, which is about three hours north of here. When we lived there, the town had a population of 13,000, and 27 churches and 3 bars.
During his Psychiatry Rotation (from Medical School), at the old Ancker Hospital (now Regions), John met an exciting Psychiatry Senior Resident, from the University of Minnesota. His name was Ralph Hirschowitz, and he made a great difference in John's medical career.
Hirschowitz was from South Africa, had served as a Medical Officer in the Israeli War of 1948, after which he emigrated to the United States, Minnesota, to be exact. Then he began his psychiatric career at Fergus Falls State Hospital, where he became passionately devoted to the new movement of deinstitutionalization of mental health care, which included and embraced the concept of rural mental health centers, rather than large institutions.
John found this concept rewarding and thrilling, and, wanting to know more about it, he kept in touch with Hirschowitz during his tour in Europe, and after we returned from Europe, we went to Fergus Falls so John could work with Ralph. The work was as exciting as John had hoped, and it was this association that moved him from General Practice to Psychiatry, and a Community Psychiatry Residency.
The appointment to Fergus Falls promised housing, so we moved into the second floor of the Administration Building, which was built in 1893 (it is now on the National Register of Historic Places.) It was a beautiful huge apartment, with windows 15 feet high, and a central hall that was about 1/3 the size of a football field. The hall was so long that the kids used to have rocking chair races. It had clearly been used to house patients one room had 12 beds but we had a living room with a fireplace, a galley kitchen, a formal dining room, 3 or 4 more bedrooms, and a marble bathroom that was large enough to hold the usual accouterments plus a washer and dryer.
We couldn't go into the building it was empty and locked, but we walked around the beautifully maintained grounds and remembered what it was like to live there.
Sarah and Rachel went to the Claire Ann Shover Nursery School in Fergus Falls,, and Martha was born there.
It was a lovely day.
August 21, 2019
John's Illnesses
IN April of 2015, John was admitted to Regions Hospital for a serious lung difficulty. And while he was there, he had a very critical hemorrhage. He was having a procedure in Interventional Radiation at the time, so he was surrounded by technology and doctors, luckily, since the doctors said, had he hemorrhaged on the ward, they couldn't've saved him.
So he was intubated (a tube down his throat) and connected to oxygen and a respirator, which would do his breathing for him. Only he had two tubes, one into each lung (to prevent leakage into the other lung). When you're intubated, you can't speak, but you're not necessarily unconscious.
So when it came time to remove the tubes, he still couldn't speak, but he was aware of what was going on, and anxious to have the tubes removed. So he started using sign language and finger-spelling.
Daughters there responded, also finger spelling, and the technician, removing the tubes, scolded John, saying he didn't want him to waste energy.
And another year, around Hallowe'en, some of his tests were so off normal, specifically his CT Scan and his Sed Rate, that we suggested he could take them out and wear them for Hallowe'en, they were so scary.
John was never cowed by Black Humor.
August 20, 2019
Two quotations John was very fond of, used each as a bottom line for his e-mails:
What does this sudden uneasiness mean, and this confusion?
Because it is night and the barbarians have
not come
and some men have arrived from the
frontiers
and they say that there are no barbarians
any longer
and now, what will become of us without
barbarians?
These people were a kind of solution.
-Cavafy
They make a desolation and call it peace
-Tacitus
August 16, 2019
Toward the last, John sat in his recliner, in a corner of the room.
I had a bunch of photos ( we had moved from one apartment to a larger one) on a window sill close by. I was
lamenting how I hadn't got the photos organized efficiently, into hanging on the walls, and then realized all he really wanted to do was look at pictures of his girls.
He was so sick, and he loved us all so much. With John, again, there was always enough love to go around.
August 16, 2019
There's a photo posted of an Organ Recital program, played by Kathrine Handford, an internationally known Organist and Professor. It's from the Church of St. Louis, King of France, in St. Paul. The organ is a superb Casavant.
Kathrine is a good friend, and she dedicated the program to the memory of John. It was a great honor.
She played a Praeludium by Buxtehude, a Corrente Italiana by Cabanilles, a Prelude by de Vate, and a Prelude and Fugue by the great man himself, Johann Sebastian Bach.
What a wonderful tribute!
(Incidentally, Kathy says she can get 10,000 steps on her Fitbit by playing just one Bach fugue.)
Norah Garrison
August 16, 2019
August 7, 2019
John finished his professional career at Blue Cross Blue Shield of Minnesota, in Behavioral Health Services, which included Psychiatry, Mental Health and Substance Abuse. These are some memories of the people he worked with:
He was never afraid to infuse Joy into his workwe were blessed to have him at the Blues.
I am sure he will remember me when I get to Heaven. Rest in Peace. Once a Scanlan, always a Scanlan. (She was a Scanlan.)
I had the peasure of working with Dr Scanlan at Blue Cross. He touched so many lives I will always remember his warm smile that could make a bad day turn to a great day. My sympathies to the family.
I had the pleasure and privilege of working with Dr. Scanlan at Behavioral Health Services/Blue Cross/Blue Shield. He was an extremely caring and wise man, well-loved by the staff and always someone who had a clear vision of what was best for those seeking service as well as those rendering it Rest in peace, Dr. Scanlan. Thank you for sharing your huge heart with all of us. My condolences to his family and friends.
Dear Beth, please be assured of my prayers for you and for your dear Father. May he now rest in the loving arms of our Creator, Amen. We will offer a Mass for your Father sometime this coming week. Please be assured of my prayers always. Remember all the wonderful memories you have of your Dad especially the ones that made you smile and be thankful to have such a great Father. Peace and all good.
I worked with Dr. Scanlan for several years and absolutely loved the man. His quiet intelligence, his care of staff and his contagious laugh made working with him a joy. My heart goes out to his family that I am sure will miss him terribly. What a great man.
I also knew and had the pleasure of working with John at Blue Cross in Behavioral Health. He was a gentle and caring man, with a heart for the care and mental health of those with special care needs. My prayers for comfort go out to the family. John will be missed by all those who new him well and those whose lives were improved through the psychiatric care they received from him.
Catherine Dittberner Lloyd
Aunt Dorothy and cousins: We knew him as our gentle, kind Uncle John, with a wonderful smile and always good wishes to us and our family. What a wonderful and touching tribute to his life, his career to improve the health and safety of the communities he served, and the gifts of love he bestowed upon his loving family.
August 5, 2019
NANCY BRADY'S WELCOMING REMARKS AT THE MEMORIAL SERVICE FOR JOHN M. SCANLAN
November 23, 2018
Welcome. I am Nancy Brady, the President of Neighborhood House, and I am deeply honored to welcome you here this afternoon, to this very special service for a very special man.
I met John Scanlan and Neighborhood House at the same time in my life, and I fell in love with both of them and Dorothy too.
John and Eileen McMahon, who's here today, and I were a trio, charged with raising the money needed to build this building, this beautiful, beautiful building, for our community, for this neighborhood, and for Neighborhood House.
Without John and Eileen, this building wouldn't be here; it just wouldn't.
John was still working at the time, and yet he dedicated countless hours to reach out to new people, explaining the Neighborhood House story, and asking them to help buld this building, this building that would strengthen this neighborhood, that would honor heritage and tradition and would welcome everyone. And as you can see, John was successful.
Through his dedication to Neighborhood House, and as you can tell from the obituary and the back of the program, he was dedicated to our community in lots of ways and, most importantly, to the people of our community.
Through his dedication to Neighborhood House, John helped countless families move from surviving to thriving.
John helped insure that people experiencing trauma and poverty in St. Paul had a place to come where people would treat them with respect, focus on their strengths, and help them find a pathway to build strong, rewarding and stable lives that benefited them, their families, and our community.
He helped newcomers connect with long-term Americans; people that believe that you can be a great American and be deeply connected to your heritage.
John helped families who were trying to build a better life for their children, helped them to have a person to walk with them, encourage them, and support them.
And he did all of this with his wonderful smile, optimism, perseverance, encouragement and support.
That's what John did for all of us at Neighborhood House: staff, participants, his fellow volunteers. He was there for all of us through his leadership, encouragement, support and a helping hand.
Neighborhood House meant a lot to John. And I'm here today to assure you that John meant a lot to Neighborhood House.
We are going to miss him. But he will live on. He will live on in this beautiful building.
He will live on in the strength of the many people who were once Neighborhood House participants and who are now leaders in our community.
And he will live on in our hearts.
Thank you.
July 30, 2019
We just happened to be in Duluth for John's 50th Birthday, and went on a sailboat ride on Lake Superior. John enjoyed it so much that I gave him sailing lessons for a birthday gift. Of course, he cottoned to it easily, and taught me, among other things, that, if you're stomach is uneasy, look to the land. It worked.
He took some more lessons himself, led a few trips with friends, and signed on for a sailing lesson on the Columbia River loved it, but didn't go again. He did tell one story about his captain, who was sailing on the Columbia, and, having not been paying attention to his whereabouts, turned around to find himself looking at a city, complete with lights. He quickly found out it was an aircraft carrier.
History does not record whether he set a record, moving out.
Before the Grands arrived, John took all of our kids living in town, on summer sailing vacations in the Apostle Islands. He lost the halyard only once.
July 29, 2019
I remember, at the wedding receptions, the d.j. - or I - always wanted "Daddy's little Girl". I loved watching John dancing with his girls; I never wanted, in fact, always insisted I not be part of it. It wasn't about me, and John always had enough love to go around.
July 28, 2019
WHERE WE LIVED, PART I
John and I married on a Saturday, in May,1962, when he was a senior in Medical School. We had been dating for three years or so. I was a nurse on the Pediatrics Ward at the old St. Jos' Hospital (now HealthEast), and when I say old, I'm serious. The old hospital had marble walls on some of the wards, ceilings so high that occasionally night staff had to call a supervisor to rid the ward of a bat.
John was the president (Archon) of his medical fraternity, Phi Beta Pi. It was right across the street from University Hospital, in those days.
When we married, he was on an Internal Medicine Rotation, and for a wedding gift, the Chief gave him Monday off.
We lived in an apartment in St. Paul, in 55104, where Sarah was born. we were caretakers, to save money until we moved to Chicago, after John graduated in 1963. In those days, after Medical School Graduation, future doctors moved on to an Internship, and there was a matching program, where each new graduate could choose from almost any hospital in the United States. Most had three choices. John had visited Cook County Hospital in Chicago, a County Hospital with 3000 beds, and he chose that one. His Father was so unhappy that John had limited his choices, but Scanlan sailed forth, was accepted, and in June of 1963, along with Sarah we moved to Chicago (actually Oak Park, one block out of Chicago.) Rachel was born in 1964.
Internship was a 12-month contract, but John elected to stay on an extra 3 months, for more experience in Pediatrics. It was during this time in Chicago that John flew to Washington D.C., to request military service in Europe. As I have explained elsewhere, the Vietnam buildup was beginning, and all Doctors were always draftable. It worked, and John would be heading to Fort Sam Houston in January, for basic training.
So we moved back to St. Paul for a couple of months. At first, john worked in the ER at North Memorial Hospital, then went to Texas for basic training.
Training was different for the M.D.s, who went in as Captains. The Drill Sergeants were, well, Sergeants, and therefore inferior to Captains in terms of rank.
After finishing 6 weeks of Basic Training, we then moved to Germany sometime in 1965. First we lived in Heidelberg, in Army quarters. Then we moved to the small town of Viernheim, outside of Mannheim, in Baden-Wurttemberg, halfway between Stuttgart and Frankfurt. That was called living on the economy. We learned some rudimentary German, learned about the culture. One of the first German phrases we learned was Es regnet jezst so viel (it rains now so much), and that was certainly true it wasn't until the last day we lived on Klosterstrasse that I realized we could see the Alps from our house - the weather was either rainy or cloudy all the time. Beth was born here.
When housing became available, we moved to the base, Benjamin Franklin Village, a piece of USAER, the United States Army in Europe. John was a General Medical Officer, and there is at least one story of when he was on call, disarmed a disturbed GI.
Living on the base was so interesting. Among other things, at 7 PM every night, Taps was sounded on a base-wide broadcasting system, and all life stopped, while the flag was lowered. Everyone, including children, stood stock-still with hands over their hearts, while Taps was played. Living in Germany was the second time we had met people from all over the country Chicago was the first- and besides that, we had family friends available as near as Munich.
We were so lucky to be in Germany in those years. World War II had ended
only twenty or so years ago, and there were still buildings in Mannheim that had shell holes in the walls. (It was the same in France.) We had travel opportunities, sometimes with the children, sometimes leaving them with safe friends. We toured Germany, Switzerland, France, Italy, East Berlin (the Brandenburg Gate was there, with the Wall in front), battlefields, Cathedrals, monasteries, churches, museums, England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales (at night). So many highlights, among them, Stonehenge, the Cathedral at Canterbury, Winston Churchill's grave, the Verdun Battlefield, Paris, Florence, Rome. The British Museum, Ronchamp.
After Germany, we flew back to the U.S., John on a MATS flight, and the three children and I on Air France, where, as I remember, there was no milk for the children, only fruit juice. (I still remember walking through Orly Airport with three small children, Sarah walking point and Rachel walking mopup.) John met us in New Jersey, and, since we had bought a VW in Germany, and had it shipped, we drove back to Minnesota.
July 27, 2019
WHERE WE LIVED, Part II
While on a Psychiatry Rotation at the old Ancker Hospital in St. Paul, John had met and kept up with a brilliant Psychiatrist, and he had decided that he would like to work with him for awhile. That man was in Fergus Falls, Minnesota, so we moved to Fergus Falls.
At first we lived in the Administration Building, on the second floor. I had never seen ceilings that high. I think it was built in the 1890's, and the kids called it the castle house. It used to be a ward, and one room had 12 beds in it. There was a -block long entry hall, where the kids used to have rocking chair races.
After some months, we moved to a small house in town, and lived there until 1968, when Martha was born. During this time, John had decided he wanted to specialize in Psychiatry, and Community Psychiatry at that. There were two places in the United States that offered a residency in Community Psychiatry (almost all Psychiatric Residencies were invested in Psychotherapy) so he wrote to and was accepted for a Community Psychiatry residency at California's San Mateo County Hospital, just outside of San Francisco.
So in late June of 1968, we flew to California, and John began his residency there. Soon after we arrived, the Administration did not honor its contractual agreement for a stipend, so John organized the other Residents into a Union, and they negotiated their salaries/stipends. I think that was the beginning of his reputation as a troublemaker. (If you remember, one of the things Dr. Steve Butzer said about John, he was comfortable with conflict.)
Interestingly enough, one of his first patients was a man with
Munchhausen's Syndrome, which is almost impossible to diagnose, but John did. He was always one of the best Diagnosticians I ever met.
In California, we lived in three different houses, always renting, looking as if we were one step ahead of the sheriff. The girls never spent Christmas in the same house.
John stayed on an extra time, getting more experience in the areas he wished to, and worked at the the San Mateo Hospital ER, and also chemical dependency/addiction units.
In 1972, we moved back to Minnesota, John having found work at St. Paul Ramsey Hospital, in the Psychiatry Unit, with an exciting Chief, who early on, recognized John's talents and gave him free rein.
We bought a house in St. Paul, started the girls in the closest school (St. Mark's, where John had gown up), and Norah was born.
AS noted elsewhere, in 1986, John left St. Paul Ramsey, with Dr. Steve Butzer, and we moved to West St. Paul, to the Delaware Avenue House. In 1998, we moved to the Oakview Road House, and stayed there until September of 2017.
That year, we moved to Lilydale, where John died on October 26, 2018. His ashes are here, at home.
July 24, 2019
Seeing one of the maintenance people trying to start a machine with one of those pull string/ropes reminds me of a winter day when I was trying to start a snowblower. I pulled and pulled, and nothing happened, and I was so mad I dumped it in the trash. John drove into the driveway from work, noted the trash, just picked up the snowblower, put it into the garage again, came into the house, and didn't even ask about it.
July 17, 2019
Here is a note from a beloved sister-in-law, also widowed, who, on looking back on some memories and reminders, says, about them, We had so much fun. It struck me as a wonderful and pragmatic way to move memories forward.
Maybe it's reminiscent of Willie Nelson's Good Hearted Woman, another song John loved. I think Roanne Rowan introduced John to Willie, for good or ill.
These are the great lines: it's about we had so much fun:
She just talks about the good times they've had
And all the good times to come
July 10, 2019
The lines from the Birthday message for John, as well as his first (and personal) obituary are from a very old Scots/Irish drinking song, The Parting Glass Generally it's sung in some pubs at closing, by all the patrons there.
O, all the money that e'er I had,
I spent it in good company.
And all the harm that e'er I've done,
Alas, it was to none but me.
And all I've done
For want of wit,
In mem'ry now, I can't recall,
So fill to me the parting glass,
Good night and joy be with you all.
O, all the comrades that e'er I had,
Are sorry for my going away,
And all the sweethearts that e'er I had,
They'd wish me one more day to stay,
But since it falls unto my lot,
That I should rise and you should not,
I'll gently rise and I'll softly call,
Good night and joy be with you all.
Often this last verse was followed by the pubkeeper saying, mournfully, Do yis not have a home to go to?
The Parting Glass along with Shoals of Herring, Handel's Water Music, and the entire Handel's Messiah were some of John's favorite music, although he had a soft spot in his heart for Beethoven's Ninth. And his taste was wide and eclectic, including, in his teen years, Stan Kenton's The Peanut Man.
July 9, 2019
HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOHN MICHAEL
1937-2018
"But since it falls unto my lot,
that I should rise and you should not;
I'll gently rise and I'll softly call
Goodnight and joy be with you all."
Love forever, Dorothy and John's Girls
July 6, 2019
John's ashes rest here at home, in his black Doctor's bag, with his name on it. Along with it is his gavel from when he was President of the Ramsey Clinic Associates, 1981-1984.
Next to it is the framed American flag, folded into the formal triangle, the one given to veterans and heroes. He would've been so proud of that.
Nearby is a letter from the President of the University of Minnesota, saying, among other things, We are very proud to claim Dr. Scanlan as an alumnus. Your husband's dedication to family and friends, extensive contributions to the field of medicine, and commitment to his community and country will not be forgotten.
Dr. Scanlan's spirit will live on in the lives of those he touched, I know there can be little consolation for such a loss, but I wish you comfort in your memories and strength in the companionship of those you love.
June 19, 2019
Mary Ann Scanlan Fitzpatrick, 1935-2017
Today is the anniversary of the death of John's dear Sister, Mary Ann. Among other things, she taught him to dance (the box step) and also, as they did the dishes together for years, when the family lived at 1946 Laurel Avenue, she taught him the Campfire Girls' chant for when one is lost in the woods. I don't remember the first part, the call, but the answer, was
A-D-E-D-I-D-O-D-Yoohoo!
So every year, we have that inserted into the St. Paul paper, signed, love, J'Michael, which is what she always called him.
He delivered the Eulogy at her funeral, at the Church of the Assumption. Interestingly enough, at the Funeral, when the family carried her ashes up to the altar, they had placed them in her sewing box.
June 11, 2019
There s a really nice photo here of John , looking very serious - Norah and I were talking about it, and we said to each other," if we were going to caption this photo, it would be, "And the answer is NO".
When he said "no", for whatever reason, you didn't fool around with that.
I don't remember anyone trying out a ...but what about?
It reminds me that I was talking on the phone (long distance) one day with a daughter who was contemplating some maneuver, and he heard it as he was walking down the hall, and said, in that final Scanlanesque way, "No", and she heard him and said, "Oh, okay."
May 20, 2019
One of the things I remember about John, is that he was so game to do stuff he hadn't done before: I think it came from his Harrington gene pool I remember one time when he was out of town (often), and his Mother and his Aunt (Sister Alcuin, CSJ, neither of them young), needed a ride to Church.
I picked them up in a vehicle called The Thing, what Beth had called, a kind of German runabout military vehicle they both got in, and off we went neither of them could've been under 70, but neither batted an eyelash. John had that same game - let's do it spirit about him.
May 15, 2019
JOHN, Easter AND THE Handbells at the Cathedral of St. Paul
On Easter Sunday one of our favorite anthems to ring and one of the most difficult, was a Richard Proulx (a giant in American church music) arrangement of a most beautiful text from Jane E. Lesson (1800-1881): Here are some of the verses of
CHRIST THE LORD IS RIS'N TODAY
Christ the Lord is ris'n today:
Christians, haste your vows to pay;
Make your joy and praises known;
At the Pascal Victim's throne. Alleluia.
Christians, on this happy day,
Raise your hearts with joy and say:
Christ the Lord is ris'n on high,
Now He lives no more to die. Alleluia.
Hallowed, chosen dawn of praise,
Easter, queen of all our days:
Zion's children now come forth;
East to west and south to north. Alleluia.
Dorothy Scanlan
May 10, 2019
EASTER with JOHN
John becoming the Bellmaster at the Cathedral of St. Paul, came along at a perfect time in his and our lives. We all made music, whether singing in the Adult Choir, the Children's Choir, or the handbell choir, usually in more than one ministry. (One of the photos shows an arrangement for bells by John, for one of the hymns or psalms sung. Now it looks like hieroglyphics.)
The Cathedral had bought a complete set of Petit and Fritsen handbells (I think no longer being made).
They were European, and very different from the bells used in the conventional church music programs. They were not melodic, but relied more on tone. And overtones, perfect for the Masqueray Cathedral of st. Paul, with its 12-second echo.
In the Easter Vigil liturgy, the church is darkened still from Good Friday, and gradually, although it seems like suddenly , in the liturgy, Christ is Risen. So as Christians in this liturgy, we are in the dark Church, the new fire is lit, the congregation is holding lighted candles, and this is what John arranged: from the four corners of the Church, darkened (except for the congregation holding lighted candles), John had bellringers begin ringing slowly, one at a time, as if the wind had begun to pick up. The rings built and multiplied, the sound building and all the lights turned on eventually, the glorious bells are ringing, the Cathedral illuminated, and the organ begins the introduction to Jesus Christ is Risen Today, the Easter hymn. With these rich liturgies, the congregation was usually around 3000 people or so, all of them singing. It was an absolutely unforgettable moment, wonderful theater, and years later, leaders wished/tried to repeat the moment of the Scanlan bells.
May 10, 2019
HOLY WEEK and EASTER
Holy Week is always a sea of memories for the Scanlans. In the past, we were very active in the music ministries at the Cathedral of St. Paul. A good friend was the Organist there, my sister Janet was the main Cantor, Director of the Childrens' Choir, and very active in planning the liturgies; another good friend was the Music Director, and John was the Bellmaster. Since the Cathedral is the home church of the Archbishop, the liturgies and Holy Days were grand and meticulously planned, down to the minute of how long the Processions would be, and who would be in them.
From another site: This was Palm Sunday: The Palm Sunday Processions, always organized by Janet. She brought not only our whole family into the Liturgies, and Spiritual/Working Life of the Cathedral, but many of the people she knew. One of the highlights of the working Liturgical Year, was Holy Week, and especially, its beginning, Palm Sunday, one week before Easter.
That opening procession was something I will probably never see the likes of again: coming forward in all three aisles, the able, the lame and the halt, at least one person in a wheelchair, people with walkers, people in suits, people in jeans, people of all colors, the most ordinary, the obviously wealthy, handbells everywhere: everyone acting as if they were about welcoming Christ, who just possibly might have come to save us all, no matter who we were or what we wore, or whether walking straight and tall was important. They were all there because Janet knew them and asked them. What a way to begin Holy Week!
After the glories of Palm Sunday, the liturgies were much more somber, leading up to Holy (Maundy) Thursday, and the Remembering of The Last Supper, then the very subdued service of Good Friday.
At the close of Maundy Thursday, the Eucharist is moved to a side altar, usually carried by the Celebrant (at the Cathedral, it would be the Archbishop). It was a minimal procession then, just John using the clapper (we didn't use music during that holy time), and the Archbishop.
Dorothy Scanlan
April 17, 2019
April 15, 2019
Notre Dame is burning, and I am heartsick. John and I were there in 1966.
Backup:
While John was interning in 1963, at Cook County Hospital, in Chicago (which, at that time was a hospital of 3000 beds),
he heard some Residents (the next step up in the medical order- in those days, it was Medical Student, Intern, Resident, Attending) talking about how some of them went to D.C., to the Pentagon, to request placement (in those days, all MD's were permanently on call as reservists, and eminently draftable- they were reservists/dratable for life). So Scanlan flew to D.C., to the Pentagon, and requested active duty in Europe. Please don't think it was easy telling his parents that he was in D.C. at the Pentagon.
By 1966, we had moved from Family Quarters in Heidelberg to the little town of Viernheim, (that was called living on the economy, and we were renting from a German couple) to the Army base near Mannheim. We left the little Scanlans on the Benjamin Franklin Village Army base, with an Army Sargent and his wife, who did a thriving business taking care of families while military parents toured.
John found an older Mercedes to buy, until we bought a Volkswagen. True to the German spirit, we were required by contract to maintain it regularly and to keep it clean.
We went on a European tour with a good friend, a Benedictine priest, who had studied in Rome, and was currently studying in Munich. He knew Europe well, and spoke German, Italian and French. He was an extraordinary tour guide. We drove through and stopped in Munich, Bavaria, Garmisch-Partenkirchen, Ottobeuron, Strasbourg, Basel, Salzburg,Paris, Vezelay, Rheims, Florence, Rome and the Vatican, not necessarily in that order. Our priest friend offered Mass in the catacombs in Rome and in a convent in Ireland. We saw a lot of Churches and Monasteries, all of them worth seeing.
We ferried to the British Isles, toured London, Canterbury, Winston Churchill's grave, Edinburgh, and on to Ireland: Dublin and Cork.
Our friend, the priest/tour guide, had friends all over Europe, so we met extraordinary people in Rome, Edinburgh, Rheims- his friends had a great time making fun of Americans speaking French (badly).
Dorothy Scanlan
April 14, 2019
Family Life with John, in the 70's:
We moved back to Minnesota from California in 1972. John had finished a community Psychiatry Residency (the only one in the country) at the San Mateo Community Hospital, (in the San Francisco area), and stayed on another year, as the ER Psychiatrist and Chemical Dependency Medical Director.
In terms of our family, Norah was born in St. Paul, in May, of 1973.
Anyway, Scanlan, working in the Psychiatry Ward at St. Paul Ramsey (now called Regions), saw a photo of a rental cabin over a river, in Montana; he called the owner, and we made arrangements to go: John and I, the four girls and Baby Norah, three months old, and Bruno, a large mastiff-type dog. John had already rebuilt the Scanvan, as the kids called it, complete with curtains that he sewed.
(The Scanvan is the same one that, when Beth was driving it into the parking lot at SPA, would inevitably falter at the entrance, causing a backup, and immense embarrassment to Beth. The school was small enough so that everyone knew that was Beth driving the Scanvan- or not driving, as it turned out. Who else owned a great big green van?)
Those were such interesting times: I-94 wasn't finished yet; (it follows the Yellowstone River, which we picked up near the Eastern border of Montana) so that allowed for interesting small places to stop and eat. We usually picked up the Widji van at Laurel, out of Billings Widji going to the Absarokas, and we continuing to Butte and I-15. The young/older Scanlans usually knew someone in the Widji van, and that was fun.
We always stopped at Livingston, and there was a wonderful buffet at the railroad station, right next to the tracks, with the trains coming and going: such interesting times. (One time we were eating there, and, having been to the laundromat in Darby, on Highway 93 - famous for Pray for me, I drive 93- we were all relatively clean (we thought), and a cowboy next to us eating at the buffet, paid for Martha's meal, telling us the reason he did so was to clean him up and take the little feller to Yellowstone.)
The cabin we rented was in the Bitterroot Range, in Northwestern Montana. It was built right on the East Fork of the Bitterroot River. The water was potable, it was so clean. The girls spent hours, days, on the river, fording it, going from rock to rock, along with Bruno, whose specialty was chasing thrown rocks, with his muzzle way under water, but always coming up triumphantly, with the thrown rock.
And he had another specialty the cattle in the area were free-range, in the pastures, on the road, and at least one time, one of the kids said, Oh, look at that, the cattle are all in a circle. John, realizing immediately what was happening, roared, BRUNO and the dog came immediately, having successfully rounded up all the cattle in the vicinity. We had to go apologize to the neighbor, whose cattle Bruno had successfully rounded up, in spite of the fact that there was no need to round up cattle. After that, when it was appropriate, John kept Bruno chained to nothing. The dog never caught on. (This is the same dog who, once he figured out we were packing, laid for hours in front of the gate, so no one could get out, and no one could forget to take him along.)
We stopped going to Montana when the Bureau of Mines was fighting with the Bureau of Land Management, and too often there was a helicopter buzzing the formerly pristine area.
Helen's Flowers.
April 5, 2019
Helen's Flowers
April 5, 2019
John with the winning entry in the Neighborhood House Food Drive, which he organized at Blue Cross Blue Shield of MN. Since the Food Drive ended on St. Patrick's Day, he is wearing his trademark green wig.
April 5, 2019
John with the winning entry in the Neighborhood House Food
Drive, which he organized at Blue Cross Blue Shield of MN. Since the Food Drive ended on St. Patrick's Day, he is wearing his trademark green wig.
April 5, 2019
John's hieroglyphics for ringing bells at the Cathedral of St. Paul.
One of John's favorite hats, knit by Norah.
April 5, 2019
April 5, 2019
April 5, 2019
April 5, 2019
April 5, 2019
March 28, 2019
For John's Memorial Service, on November 23rd, 2018, Helen Boggess, Sarah's and Jeff's eldest daughter, who is working as a floral arranger, made two arrangements, which she brought with her on her flight from Chicago (pictures with captions, are posted).
She wrote perfect, memorable descriptions of both of them:
This arrangement ( no. 1), is from his five daughters in honor ot the many fond memories they have of family trips out to the American West. It includes many types of grasses and flowers found on the prairie: Star of Bethlehem, Queen Annes' Lace, and grasses originally in John's and Dorothy's West St. Paul home. There is also Bay, to represent Wisdom, and Bells of Ireland, to honor John's Irish heritage.
This arrangement (no. 2) is from his twelve Grandchildren, in honor of all he taught them. The Pine is for his love of the Outdoors, and of Minnesota, and the Magnolia leaves represent the Magnolia tree in the childhood front yard of four of the Grandchildren. The Delphinium represents his July birthday, his open heart, and sense of lightness. The Iris represents Wisdom, and the Rosemary is for Remembrance.
March 17, 2019
St. Patrick's Day was always a special time for the music John loved: This was a favorite CD:
The Harp, That Once Through Tara's Halls, the instrumental version
The Harp, That Once Through Tara's Halls, sung by the Three Irish Tenors,
with the poem/text of Thomas More
Come Back to Erin, Mavourneen, Robert White
The Garden Valley, Da Danaan
The River and the Ocean, Noirin Ni Riain
Faith of Our Fathers, Frank Patterson, a genuine Irish Tenor
Marie's Wedding, the Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem
Oh the Days of the Kerry Dancers, an early Julie Andrews
The Irish Girl, Da Danaan
The Shoals of Herring, the Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem, one of John's all-time favorites
The Wild Colonial Boy, The Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem, a family favorite forever, even named a dog after that
Macushla, from the movie Michael Collins
Ireland, Mother Ireland, Robert White
Across the Bay Da Danaan with Harlem
When Irish Eyes Are Smiling and My Wild Irish Rose Mitch Miller
You are the Call, I Am the Answer, Da Danaan
Long Journey Home Elvis Costello
The Minstrel Boy Leroy Anderson arrangement
The Minstrel Boy from Blackhawk Down
The Parting Glass the Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem
This last one, of course, is the one that we used in John's first obituary.
Dorothy Scanlan
March 16, 2019
March 16
Tomorrow is St. Patrick's Day. And March is also the Food Drive for Neighborhood House. When he was working with Neighborhood House, John helped organize a Food Drive/Contest within Blue Cross Blue Shield of Minnesota, along with a group of nurses and staff, who were always willing to have fun. (Some days, he would go on lunch runs with a group of nurses, to local garage sales. (One time he came home with an Elvis on velvet wall hanging, which I eagerly snapped up.)
Anyway, the food drive culminated on St. Patrick's Day; by that time, for as long as it went on, it became a stiff competition among the many cubicles and the results were wonderfully elaborate, each one trying to outdo the others. The winner had to have the most food, in pounds, as well as have an imaginative setup for the display.
For this occasion, he always wore a green wig. He had so much fun, and so did everyone working on the food drive. AND they raised a lot of food for Neighborhood House. He could never see why working on a good cause shouldn't be fun.
John loved the Irish music for St. Patrick's Day, moving far beyond the traditional Danny Boy. He enjoyed especially the Da Danann group, loved The Clancy Brothers, and Paddy OBrien, who was his teacher for the Irish Button Accordion.
His taste was wide, and sometimes reflected the writing of G. K. Chesterton: The great Gaels of Ireland are the men that God made mad, For all their wars are merry, and all their songs are sad.
February 25, 2019
Life with John
When we were in Yachats, Oregon, John decided we should all learn to eat fresh fish, shellfish, whatever, and so we all ate his ceviche. It didn't exactly TAKE, but he moved on.
One year, John decided, since getting hooked on American Sign Language, that we were all going to move to China. He even wrote to China, asking about moving there with me and his five daughters. As I remember,
China wrote back, saying We are sorry about our arrangements (I think that was a no).
And, besides that, at the dinner table, at 1936 Summit, as I remember it, the Scanlan daughters said a resounding NO Besides that, I, Dorothy, had found a disturbing (at least to me) AP photo of one of the only refrigerators in China being hauled across some desolate plain. BUT the daughters won the day, and we didn't move to China. I don't remember Scanlan being distressed or disappointed he just moved on.
We never could be quite sure whether he was serious about moving to Highway 93, near Hamilton, Montana, where we would buy a motel, the kids would do maid service, and he would do psychotherapy and sign language. We thought it was a joke, but were never quite sure. Luckily, it came to naught.
Another year, he bought a smoker and made beef jerky. It was the best I ever tasted; we used to take it along on our trips to Montana.
One time we were in San Francisco, when his parents came to visit. (That might've been the year his Dad gave him $!00 to get a haircut, which he didn't.) We went into the City, got our fill of something, and planned to take the always-crowded cable car to the next stop, and I said to John, What about your Mother? (John's Mother was a perfect lady, not young anymore, seemed mild and easy to live with, but was a formidable money-raiser) and he said, Don't worry about her, she'll be the first one on, which seemed a little cold-blooded to me, but sure enough, when I finally got on, there was Loretta in one of the front seats.
February 21, 2019
Life with John
Another family joke: everyone knows I can't arrange cars: I'm okay with one driver, one car more than that, it's not easy. So we would be arranging to go somewhere, and I would say brightly to John, Why don't we drop off a car? and he would say, patiently, every single time, And how are we going to get home?
Another year, he got really interested on growing Iris, and we had (what we thought was) a perfect site. So we went to an iris farm, bought wonderful iris, and they were John's for quite awhile. Eventually he moved on to other things, and a couple of years, for Father's Day, I would weed the iris bed, HIS iris bed.
We were at a ST. Paul Ramsey Dinner one year, at the Town and Country Club. We- John and I were relatively new to the community, although he and I were both native St. Paulites. The Head of the Psychiatry Department, for whom John was working, asked me whether there was something he could do to keep John happy? Flourishing? Anyway, I said, Don't let him get bored. It worked. Vic Tuason was the best boss anyone could've created for Scanlan. Actually, Scanlan might have created him.
For about ten years, he baked. He baked bread for an informal religious group we belonged to, he baked for Christmas gifts, he baked for Easter, he baked for Thanksgiving Family Dinner. His favorite bread was a Gourmet Granary Bread, but he baked at least ten different breads in his baking years. In fact, we used to argue over who got the kitchen when, in the pre-Christmas/Advent time of the year, because his baking took up the kitchen in prime time, for 6-10 hours, while I needed it for the usual Christmas cooking and cookies, etc.
Eventually we worked it out, and he got the kitchen when he needed it, for as long as he needed it but it had to be negotiated.
Some of his breads:
a Granary Bread
Chrystopsomo
a braided Easter Bread, with Easter eggs set into it, after baking
Chocolate Bread, with chocolate butter
Christmas spirals (this recipe called for 5 C. cooked ground walnuts)
Swedish Limpa Rye Bread
February 20, 2019
Life with John
Sometimes, when the anniversary of a death of some one we cared for, would come up on the calendar, and, especially with an un-looked-for, unwelcome death, and I would say to John, Should I send a note ,or something or will that be too hard for him/her?) Will that remind them?
and he would say to me, Do you think they don't remember it?
One year John sewed. He found Frostline kits, and sewed ponchos for all of us, in various bright colors. He made a down vest, which Martha wore to eternity, he made down-filled mittens for us to wear to our beloved hockey games, he made curtains for the Scanvan.
There was an ongoing joke about John and I leaving motel rooms: no matter where the locale or zone, when we left the room, no matter where we were going- Breakfast? Parking lot? Lobby? - , I would turn right and move on, Then I would hear, behind me, John's voice, patient as ever, but knowing, Dorth? And I would figure it out once again, and turn left and try to keep up.
That culminated in the joke about our tombstones: mine would be a little to the right and ahead of John's. His would be set in stone and the one word inscription would be Dorth?
February 12, 2019
February 12, 2019
February 12, 2019
February 12, 2019
February 12, 2019
February 12, 2019
February 12, 2019
February 12, 2019
February 12, 2019
These are some of John's favorite t-shirts.
February 12, 2019
Double Date 8/18
February 12, 2019
The Lions : John Scanlan and Gene Jax
February 9, 2019
January 26, 2019
JOHN'S MEMORIAL SERVICE
November 23rd, 2018
Sarah's Eulogy
I'm Sarah, one of the Daughters, or, the HIPPA Squad, as my Mother called us, in my Father's hospitalization.
He would be so happy to see all of the people here, as I think my Dad was a natural Networker, or Inclusionist. He was happy bringing people together.
As I thought about what I wanted to say, I guess there are a lot of things I want to be grateful for, and funny things about my Dad, that I thought of:
For a long time, he drove a Taurus, a Ford Taurus, and no matter where we went, there was a parking place close to wherever we wanted to get out. If we ever wanted to go somewhere crowded, we knew that if Papa drove the Taurus, the Spirit of Taurus would be with us, and we would be dropped off very close to where we wanted to be.
I remember his patience, as he taught us many things:
he taught us to drive, and when he was teaching me to back into the driveway, and I confused the accelerator and the brake, and went through the garage door, he was nonplussed, and said, Put the car in drive and move out.
He always commanded respect without using a loud voice. I remember when I was taking my Drivers' Ed, and during one of my Behind the Wheel lessons, the instructor said to me that I had done such a good job that I could be done early. AND he happened to have a date. So when I got home, and my parents said, Why are you home so early?, I said, I was doing so good.... And the next Drivers' Ed lesson that I had, my Dad was out front, saying, to the instructor, I know you'll be extending the lesson today to make up for the time she missed last time.. And the man just nodded his head.
So I guess I have a lot of thank-yous:
I want to thank him for teaching me that it's important to trust my instincts, as important as it is to explore my options;
for showing me that being assertive is not being aggressive;
for the lesson that generosity with time and talent can be as valuable as treasure;
for the emphasis that he placed on education, and the fact that it never ends;
for helping me remember that listening to my children can be as valuable as any option I can give them.
I want to thank him for illustrating the priority of investing in my marriage;
for nurturing my love of reading, music and history, and writing;
thank him for teaching me to change a flat tire;
thank him for showing me when to see the forest and when to see the trees;
for pointing out that there are times to question authority and that one can do that respectfully;
thank him for the creative lesson that peanut butter, Cheese Wiz and Spam can stand alone or they can be combined;
thank him for encouraging me to say what I mean and mean what I say;
thank him for teaching me the importance of being on time (although that is still a work in progress).
I want to thank him for all the times that the car did not leave in five minutes.
I want to thank him for taking the scenic route;
for emphasizing respect, responsibility, and honesty,
and thank him for the love that he gave to me and to my Sisters and to my Mother, and how important it is that we share that with each other.
Love you, Papa!
January 22, 2019
JOHN'S MEMORIAL SERVICE
November 23rd, 2018
Beth's Eulogy
I am Beth Scanlan, another proud daughter of John and Dorothy Scanlan.
Thank you for being here today with us, as we escort my beautiful father on his way.
If he were here, he would be standing in the back of the room, leaning against the wall, probably with his arms folded across his chest, his truck already started and warmed up, waiting for my mother.
We used to tease about that. My father would say Get the hook! in reference to the invisible hook he would use to try to disengage my mother from a room. I believe my father bequeathed the invisible Scanlan hook to his son in law, Jeff Boggess. Hopefully it will work better with Sarah than it did with my mother.
Our father was Papa to us. He was also known as Scans, Skinny, J'Michael by his family of origin, and affectionately referred to as simply Scanlan by my mother.
When you were with Papa, you never felt like he wanted to be anywhere else but right there with you. He was always present, attentive, listening. He listened with his eyes, and spoke with his heart. I will always remember his beautiful eyes, and how he spoke with expressive gestures with his hands.
He lived with intention, and was a force of justice for so many people and communities, including his daughters. Sometimes quietly, sometimes not so much
When my sisters and I were attending St. Mark's grade school in the early 70's, the girls and the boys had separate playgrounds.
The girls' playground was a small corner of a parking lot. The boys, however, had an area 5 times that size, and in addition, they blocked-off the street in front of the school for the boys to play football and other sports.
Papa measured the two playgrounds by simply walking off the steps it took for him to stride from one end of the girls' playground to the other. Then he did the same with the boys' playground.
And then he walked into the school. Can you imagine that conversation, which likely started with Let me get this straight and resulted in coed playgrounds.
Papa was a source of comfort and humor, a perfect balance of lightness, ease and tremendous emotional strength.
He entered every room like an embrace. We will miss his physical presence.
He was fundamentally good humored, and as an adult looking back, I realize I appreciate that humor a lot more now than I did when I was young.
Like when Papa would pick us up from school by driving all the way up the sidewalk to the front door of the school. Nevermind Mr. Schumacher standing next to us with his arms folded across his chest, and a smile for my dad hiding behind his stern look.
And as if it wasn't bad enough, our car at the time was a Volkswagon Thing, which looked and sounded like a German runabout military vehicle.
Growing up, we would eat together as a family every night, and at the table we were encouraged to express our opinions and participate in healthy debate.
We learned to find our voices, and how to agree to disagree. Little did we know at the time that those lessons were arming us for the world.
Papa taught us through empowering us, giving us the tools and letting us figure out how to use them. Through him, we learned to recognize that we get to make choices.
Vegetables weren't a big hit at our dinner table back then. Instead of making us eat a big pile of vegetables, we had to eat one vegetable for every year we were old. So when I was 7, for instance, I had to eat 7 peas, which at the time seemed like torture.
We could take as long as we wanted to eat those vegetables, we just couldn't leave the table until they were all gone from our plate. The choice was ours; you could stay there at the table all night if you wanted, and some of us did. (RACHEL!) There's Papa, empowering us one vegetable at a time.
We learned to be fair, to get along and to share. If we got stuck, he wouldn't solve it, but instead would come up with an opportunity for us to figure it out ourselves.
Opportunities like giving us a nickel and we had to figure out how to share it between three of us. Or if there was one sister you weren't exactly getting along with, he would suggest those two share a room.
We wouldn't necessarily call him a peacemaker, but perhaps a peace dealer.
He was always encouraging and supportive of whatever we wanted to do. He attended all of our sporting events John and Dorothy were a fixture on the sidelines during our high school years and beyond. They drove down to Grinnell to watch Norah's soccer games, then got in the car and drove back the same day.
They were our biggest (and only) fan club for the adult sisters' co-ed soccer games, often times watching the games from inside of his truck, with the grandchildren.
Growing up, he knew all of our friends. They would always greet him with a Hello, Dr. Scanlan!
Papa was such an incredible dad. He was engaged and involved, recognized and celebrated us all as individuals, and somehow always had enough time and love for each of us.
He was patient and consistently good humored, even during the last few years while facing a terrible and debilitating disease.
Papa was hospitalized the week before he died. When it became clear there was nothing more they could do for him, hospice was introduced and there were decisions to be made.
All seven of us were there, along with a team of doctors. It felt somber and sad, as we came to terms with the inevitable. They needed to know what my father's wishes were as far as life saving measures.
If you were to have an event while you're here in the hospital that would require resuscitation and intubation, one of the doctors gently asked him, If that happens, Dr. Scanlan, what do you think? my father softly responded Well, if that happens, I think you didn't plan very well.
On his final day at Regions Hospital, there was a parade of doctors and medical staff who stopped by his room to say goodbye and thank him for his service to the hospital and to the community, for allowing them to treat him and be part of his medical care team, for teaching them about his illness.
It was astounding to witness the grace and courage of our father, how he appreciated everyone for the role they played in his care.
Dr. Siwek, was the last one to pass through his room that day. Like the others, he thanked my father, expressing what a gift it had been to be part of his life, said how much he enjoyed the conversations he'd had with my father and my mother at my father's many appointments over the last several years.
Acknowledging the daughters in the room at that moment, Dr. Siwek commented to my father about his supportive family being there with him. My father replied What a guy's got to do to get some attention
In looking back on the gifts we received in life from our father, many common threads stand out presence, simplicity, humor, love, honesty and integrity. Each of us carries some of my father with us and I see him shining in my sisters.
In my sister Sarah, I see his innate sense of justice and fairness, his call to service, and ability to lead with gentle firmness all wrapped up in love.
Rachel has captured our Papa's sense of exploration and curiosity, and like him, she sees the world in front of her as an abundance of teaching and learning opportunities, in the beauty of the prairie, the birds, rock formations and stars. All the things our parents showed us on our many trips out west.
Martha has our father's gift of seeing through kind eyes and has his generous soul, filtering it all through her heart. Like him, she has a peaceful presence.
Norah has his ingrained belief that it is possible, whatever it is. You can see him in her spirit of adventure, and wonder, and her gentle and calm presence. Like Papa, there is no line between love and family.
We can all see him smiling back at us, in the faces, voices and actions of his grandchildren.
Our father chose to donate his body to the Anatomy Bequest Program at the University of Minnesota Medical School to support medical research and education.
This brave and selfless gift is a beautiful example of how Scanlan continued to give of himself, even in death. It is an amazing, yet not surprising, legacy for our father. In death, he becomes the teacher again.
As is seen in his extraordinary life's work, he strove to make sure everyone had an opportunity.
He believed. He believed in possibility, and choice, and hard work.
He believed in standing up tall, sometimes taller because someone else cannot.
He was always learning and lived with wonder at the possibility and promise of better.
He loved.
He loved my mother. It is the ultimate accomplishment to have someone in your life who looks at you the way my father would look at my mother.
He loved his family.
He loved his grandchildren.
He loved his dogs. (The cat, not so much.)
And he loved his community.
May you continue to inspire us:
To enter each day with a generous heart
To serve the call of courage and love
Godspeed, Papa. I love you.
January 21, 2019
JOHN'S MEMORIAL SERVICE
November 23rd, 2018
Norah's Eulogy
In these last few weeks since my dad died, I have been overcome by a tremendous feeling of gratitude. I can't believe how lucky I was to grow up with my 4 sisters, my mom, and of course, my dad. When I had sports and activities, he would always be there. He spearheaded countless adventures and road trips. He was a united front with my mom. He put family first. I thought that is just what fathers did.
Now, as a parent myself, I appreciate the subtlety of his parenting, and how much he fundamentally shaped who I am today. My dad was not a center of attention sort of person or parent. He led by example by being kind, fun, gentle and full of grace. My kids, when they were little, actually named him beautiful Grandpa.
His love and caring for us was an absolute constant. Unconditional. Consistent. As a young person, I probably took this for granted because I knew I was loved - wasn't everyone? This virtual cocoon of love around me gave me an immense amount of freedom - to follow my dreams, to take risks, to be my true self - because I knew that I was loved and respected, just because that's how my world was.
He also made me believe in myself. He took great interest in what my sisters and I were doing, studying, playing, talking about. He was an amazingly attentive listener. He asked questions. He always led with curiosity, not judgement. He played cribbage with us, laughed at our sisterly antics and jokes, talked about our school work with us. He always made me feel like I was interesting and worth talking to and spending time with, even when I was young, and that I could be whatever I wanted to be. So I walked through the world believing that.
This is not to say that he was satisfied with whatever we did - on the contrary - he had very high expectations. And there was nothing worse than the fear of disappointing our parents. Not because there were specific goals that we hadn't met. His high expectations had more to do with being true to ourselves, and being our best selves. Having him as a parent made me self-reflect: am I being as nice as I know I should be to others? Am I being as welcoming as I should be? Am I doing my best work? These are the questions I still ask myself today.
He allowed us to choose our own paths. My path happened to include wanting to move to rural Alaska with Mark, who I had dated for 2 weeks and my parents had hardly met. And we talked about it. He did not say are you crazy? or No. Granted, he was a very good judge of character and he and Mark clicked right way. Still, he trusted my own decision making and did not pressure me to make the conventional choice, but rather to trust my gut and follow my heart. That was the best advice advice I ever got!
My dad was a great advisor - from the friend dramas of early years to complex ethical choices or life decisions. He would listen and give advice, but in the end he would turn it back on us. He'd say, You have to make the decision that you can live with. This simple question... Can I live with myself if I act this way? If I do that? If I make this choice? Will it eat away at my conscience or will I sleep well? This did not always lead to the popular or easy choice, but I learned to know if it was the right one by how I felt.
And when we did mess up and make mistakes, he was the greatest of consolers. In those moments of sadness or anger or regret, we could always count on him to seek us out and give the big hug that meant:
forgiveness
It's going to be ok
You're ok
We love you
This will get better.
Last night as we each gave thanks at the Thanksgiving table, I was struck by my dad's impact on all of us. Not surprised, but in awe of the similarities in the gifts that Papa - that beautiful Grandpa - gave us. The things we will miss in his example live on: affirmation and a sense of being truly heard and seen, the wisest of counsel, leading with curiosity rather than judgement, a great sense of humor and fun, life-long learning, kindness and love
A human safe-harbor. We will miss him so much.
January 20, 2019
JOHN'S MEMORIAL SERVICE
Rachel's Eulogy
Hello thank you all for coming today it means the world to my family. I'm Rachel Scanlan, one of the Basketball Squad, (The Hippa Squad as my mom likes to call us) and we'd like to tell you a little bit about our Dad, or Papa, as we called him.
My Dad was an extraordinary man. An incredible Father. He was always kind, endlessly patient, and probably the truest human being I have ever known. He was dearly loved, and he loved dearly.
He was really really good at his work. But when he was not at work, he was 100% Papa. He left his work behind and gave all of himself to us.
When he came home from work, he would greet us with hugs and smiles, and a how was your day? Then he and my mother would have their own private time in the kitchen, talking about whatever grown-ups would talk about at the eve of the day. We knew this was not our time, and we would play outside, or set the table. Then we would all have dinner together and talk and laugh and eat and commune. After dinner he would lay on the floor in the living room, reading the paper or a magazine or book. When we were little, we would climb all over him, taking turns doing his hair. Sometimes he would play music and sing to us.
There are so many facets of him that I am grateful for, and truly deeply love and appreciate. What I want to share with your today, though, was his adventurous spirit, which was woven together by his curiosity, his sense of wonder, and his drive to always be learning something new.
His adventurous spirit created special times for us when he was home. Early on in our family life, when he was working so much, he would make Sundays very special. He would take us to pick out donuts for breakfast. Sunday night dinners were steak and potatoes, cooked outside by him on the grill. When we lived in California, we would have weekend adventures at the beach, or in the redwoods, Mount Shasta, Half-Moon Bay, or playing games at home with each other or with the dog. He was creative, and often had a project going on that we would help with. At some point he bought a little 3-wheeled mail car, which we all painted together, and he would drive us around in that. We always had big unusual dogs, whom he love so much! He learned to play the guitar, the piano, the mouth harp, the dulcimer, the bagpipes, the irish whistle, the accordion.
In addition to living in many interesting places, his adventurous spirit made for the most amazing summer vacations!
At the time, they just felt so normal. Now looking back, there were quite unusual!
When we moved from San Francisco to Minnesota, we (being 4 kids, one big dog, and one cat) drove in our VW bus, all the way up the west coat, to Vancouver Island, then across Canada and down into Montana. We saw all kinds of beautiful places. After we moved here, Papa bought a Dodge MaxiVan and totally converted it into a ScanVan Summer Vacation Event. We drove that thing on many summer vacations -- to a remote cabin in Western Montana, to the Oregon coast, and once up into Ontario and all the way east to Nova Scotia. We visited National Parks, historic sites, ghost towns, Battlefields of the West, so many truck stops, little diners and cafes. We went horseback riding. We played in rivers, he built huge sculptures out of downed trees or driftwood. He taught us to play poker, and cribbage, and 500. We had so much fun! We drove around the country in a van that he custom built himself, listening to family music that he had put together himself on mixed cassette tapes. He taught us to read a map and compass, to enjoy nature, to leave early so you can stop and see the things that feed your soul. He was fun and funny, and we treasured these times together as much as he did. We truly loved every minute of it.
Later, when we were older and not necessarily available for 2 or 3-week drives across the country, he learned to sail, and took whomever lived in town on sailing trips in the Apostle Islands. He bought a camper and he and my mom adventured together, visiting sisters who lived away, or just having their own adventures. Once the grandchildren started arriving, he found a place up north outside of Ely where we could all gather for a week every summer, and sing and dance and laugh and cook and read and swim and paddle and hike, and play games and cards with him and with each other. Or just sit down by the water in each others' presence, reading.
Papa taught me to tie knots, to read the wind, to wonder at the night sky and the constellations. He let me buy my high school Earth Science book, listened to me explain glacial formations in the mountains, stopped at rock outcroppings, and found places in the van for my rock collections. He taught me to fill vacation days with hikes and games and cooking and family. He taught me to stay curious about people and about the world, and always be open to learning something new. He showed us that big adventures don't always have to be exotic trips to faraway places. They can be as simple as a child climbing all over you, or a donut run on a Sunday morning. Big adventures happen in your heart, with people you love.
The family foundation that he built, with his love and sense of adventure, lives on today, in all of us the people who know and love him. We love and appreciate it every single time we get together.
Thank you, Papa. I love you so much, and I will miss you.
January 20, 2019
Some notes on Remembering: these are what the Germans call pre-remarks. (This is in reference to the A Mourner's Prayer, in the post below):
re-mem-ber
Verb
1. Have in or be able to bring to one's mind an awareness of someone or something that one has seen, known, or experienced in the past
2. Do something that one has undertaken to do or that is necessary or advisable.
To remember- this definition, which comes from Merriam-Webster's Dictionary, makes it clear that remembrance is not only about bringing loved ones to mind, but calls us to do things to honor their memory, as well as the impact they have had upon us. To remember is to lift up all those things the deceased have taught us, so that their lives continue through our own hearts.
To remember is to embrace both the strengths and imperfections of those whom we have lost, by continuing to foster our own strengths, and improve upon our own shortcomings. And, to remember is to do what is necessary---to keep in mind, that what we do will have an impact on others' lives.
We remember them (A Mourner's Prayer) is perhaps one of the most famous readings found in the Jewish liturgy. Its thoughtful and insightful words have transcended beyond Jewish liturgy and have entered the hearts and minds of Jews and non-Jews. The words remind us how important the idea of remembrance is to our sacred traditions: our souls live on through not only those who loved us, but those whom we have loved, and those we love now.
Memory is a part of all humanity. In A Mourner's Prayer, we are told not to forget, we are challenged to remember, we are asked to reflect, and exhorted to improve every day and in every way.
January 19, 2019
John's Memorial Service
(Rev.) Steve Adrian led us in the antiphonal Mourner's Prayer:
At the rising of the sun and its going down
We remember him.
At the opening of the buds and the rebirth of spring
We remember him
At the blueness of the skies and in the warmth of summer
We remember him.
At the rustling of the leaves and in the beauty of autumn
We remember him.
At the blowing of the wind and in the chill of winter
We remember him.
At the beginning of the year and when it ends
We remember him.
As long as we live, he too will live;
For he is now part of us,
As we remember him.
When we are weary and in need of strength,
We remember him.
When we are lost and sick at heart
We remember him.
When we have joy and crave to share
We remember him.
When we have decisions that are difficult to make
We remember him.
When we have achievements that are based on his
We remember him.
As long as we live, he too will live;
For he is now a part of us,
As we remember him.
And Charles Williams, Jr. led us in the Great Amen.
January 19, 2019
(Rev.) Steve Adrian, on John Scanlan
John's Memorial Service
Friday, November 23rd, 2018
Deep down in John's very heart,
the engine that drove him,
the strength that sustained him,
the power that motivated him,
the spirit that he breathed
was simple Faith.
But John knew that Faith was not something that you had Faith was something that you did.
John's life was an act of faith.
He understood the Twenty-fifth chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel:
Jesus says, When the Son of Man comes in the clouds of Heaven, with all the angels, he will gather the people of the earth before Him, and He will separate them, as a shepherd separates sheep from goats.
He will put the sheep on His right hand, and the goats on his left, and then He will say, to those on His right:
When I was hungry, you fed me
When I was thirsty, you gve me to drink
When I was naked, you clothed me
When I was a stranger, you welcomed me
When I was sick, you cared for me
In prison, and you stood by me.
And they will say to him:
When, Lord, did we see you hungry, and feed you or thirsty and give you to drink?
When did we see you naked and clothe you
Or a stranger and welcome you?
When did we see you in prison and stand by you or sick and care for you?
And he will say to them, When you did it to one of these, the least, you did it to me.
John believed that. That motivated John's life.
I will offer you an image:
Life is a journey. We make it together. We walk arm in arm.
But some of us walk it differently than others. Most of us walk that journey down the center of the road, with the sun shining on us, and the road cleared of all debris. It is a safe palace to be and a good place to be seen, and almost all of us walk life's journey that way.
But there are some people who do not walk down the center of the road. They walk on the side of the road; they walk on the gravel. They walk amid the littler And they do that because they don't feel welcome. They feel that they're regarded as different, and because they're different, people are afraid of them.
But then there's a third group that walks they don't walk the road. They don't walk the side of the road. They walk the ditch. They're the nameless, the faceless, the powerless. They re the ones who no one sees and for whom no one cares.
Now John was able to walk the ditch, and the reason he walked the ditch is that he knew if he ever wanted to meet the face of Jesus, he'd find it in the ditch.
And by the way, pound for pound, there are far more interesting people in the ditch than on the road.
That made all the difference to John.
January 17, 2019
JOHN'S MEMORIAL SERVICE
November 23rd. 2018
Dr. Steve Butzer spoke to John's medical career:
Good afternoon:
For those of you who want the Reader's Digest version, it starts with John's name and finishes with The End.
(Here he put on a pair of deer antlers.)
He really enjoyed this time of year, and was often the one with the seasonal tie, socks, and antlers.
Dorothy asked me to say a few words focusing on his work life. Scanlan was a huge figure in so many ways within his professional activities/ He was always willing to take on something new, learn about it, and make it work. He is aptly described by the Chinese aphorism, If you really need to get something done, ask the busiest person you know.
One of these projects was his role as Medical Director of the Hearing Impaired Program. He noticed he was missing things about the patients by being dependent on the interpreters, and it interested him to learn, and eventually become fluent, in American Sign Language-or ASL. This vastly improved his care of the patients, and his expertise led to later consultative relationships with Boys' Town in Omaha and Gaulladet University in Washington D.C., where ASL was the official day-to-day language along with English. He kept these relationships as long as I worked with him.
He became increasingly aware that many of these folks had been post or even current victims of physical and sexual abuse. As you know, the perpetrators were often the very people who were their caretakers or treaters. John testified in some landmark cases at both institutions (Boys' Town and Gaulladet), bringing the issues to light, and then helped to design and implement programs of protection, treatment and support.
There are some other accomplishments worthy of attention:
He was a teacher and mentor to many students at all levels of their training and maintained his appointment in the University of Minnesota Department of Psychiatry, where he was eventually appointed to Full Clinical Professor.
He kept his membership in the American Psychiatric Association and received their highest accolade of Fellow.
Later he also was rewarded Fellowship in the American College of Physician Executives that is the professional association of physicians who are also managers of health care organizations.
Charles Dickens wrote a grand opening line for the rest of the story:
It was the best of times.
It was the worst of times.
It was the WORST of times.
In 1975 I joined the medical staff of St. Paul Ramsey Hospital, and worked for Scanlan for more than 11 years, and then with him for the rest of my career. We collaborated in a bunch of ventures, worked very hard and had a lot of success. We also got into a lot or trouble.
At Ramsey. John was a busy fellow in the Psychiatry Department, and also involved in the politics of the hospital, which then managed the Doctors' group. He was a visionary and active promoter of the group and emerging identity of the group into an independent large multi-specialty Physicians' practice. Of course, he couldn't really SEE the future, but he was enthusiastic, optimistic, and idealistic, and believed in what he thought it should be. He was easily the best choice to become President and CEO of the newly-formed Ramsey Clinic. This role put him in direct conflict with hospital management and their department heads, who either did not want to change, or who believed the hospital was the better choice to continue managing the MD's.
John was comfortable with conflict and had an easy-going style of dealing with it and getting things to resolution. This skill would help us a lot from then on.
But in 1986, the hospital prevailed, and Scanlan was replaced with a new president of Ramsey Clinic, who was a believer in the old ways. At the same time, the hospital installed a new Chief of the Department of Psychiatry, who was of the same ilk.
It all looked bleak to me and it seemed to close off career paths for both of us. But one day John showed up with a smile on his and face, and said, Let's leave we can form our own group expand our consulting stuff and start some clinics with a focus on managed care. We'll do fine.
We left had no office and little on the schedule. Working out of our cars and borrowed space, we got going and John put some deals together that bought us new office space and financing. Scanlan was an effective recruiter of both professional and support staff. It was gratifying that a number of folks at Ramsey wanted to join us and left secure jobs.
We developed our corporate structures and would have callled it Scanlan Butzer inc., but in a whimsical moment we chose Butzer Scanlan Ltd so it would thereafter always be BS Ltd.
Our clinics grew and we found more consulting work for the two of us and our staff of M.D.s and Ph.D.'s. This led to our doing more and more chart reviews for Blue Cross Blue Shield Minnesota.
However, our professional staff did not like that kind of work, so it increasingly fell to John and me. In a short time it was clear we were the public face of the Blues in their management of hospitals and clinics that provided mental health and chemical dependency services. That made us the target of growing hostility and tension in the emerging use of Managed Health Care.
We received threats and were named with the Blues as defendants in a number of lawsuits. At one point, a group of providers composed and distributed a letter maligning us. They sent it to all of our consultative accounts and providers throughout the state saying a number of untrue things. This time we sued them. At trial our only exhibit was a blown-up copy of their letter. The judge made short work of the case and found that we were defamed.
Another part of this worst of times came when we determined our clinics were not financially viable
without more managed care contracts. So we had to close them. It took a couple of years to securely launch our staff to other career opportunities and take care of the legal work. John was the protective Father Figure helping each of them with their job searches and relocations.
And then it became clear to us that Resistance was Futile and we were assimilated by the Blues.
Then came the last lawsuit. This time it was the Attorney General of Minnesota who had a long-standing conflict with the Blues, and a particular dislike of Butzer-Scanlan Limited. He sued to stop the Case Review process or change it by replacing us with retired judges he would appoint.
To our surprise, the Blues capitulated, and we were abruptly left with little to do. I decided to leave, and so ended BS Limited.
Scanlan elected to stay, and, true to his character, smoothly and quickly found other things to do with the Blues and their affiliates in other states.
I'm sure, every year at this time for about a month he was wandering the cubicles in Eagan, wearing his antlers.
He was my brother with a different Mother. I will miss him.
In closing, a word about musicif you want to listen to something that reflects John's life and emblemises his personality, I recommend a remarkable work - composed by a deaf man Beethoven's Symphony Number 7:
Find a good recording. Turn the volume WAY UP and listen through to
The End
January 7, 2019
January 7, 2019
January 7, 2019
January 7, 2019
January 7, 2019
January 6, 2019
Eileen McMahon's Nomination Speech
John Scanlan as Honorary Board Member of Neighborhood House
September 30, 2004
It is my great pleasure to recognize our newest Honorary Board Member, John Scanlan. John Scanlan has a special place in the hearts of all of us at Neighborhood House, and we are pleased to be honoring him today. Please welcome John Scanlan.
Each year we gather he honorary board members for a meeting to discuss the next nominee. This year's meeting was extremely short the choice was clear and unanimous.
John Scanlan's tenure on the Board of Directors, and throughout his involvement with Neighborhood House, has spanned both its challenging periods and it renaissance. As board chair, he guided the organization through some of its most difficult times.
John was instrumental in the establishment of a professional Development Office, providing extensive information and advice that was invaluable during its formation.
He served on the Search Committee that brought Dan Hoxworth here as our Presidentso of course, Dan thinks John is really special. And his service on the Resource Development Committee linked us with new friends and donors throughout the East Metro area.
He also worked closely with Board and staff as we developed new programs, improved accountability of both finance and programs, and began our Strategic Planning process. And through it all, John has been an incredible personal support to staff and Board members.
John's preferred method is to work quietly behind the scenes and he gets a lot done that way. Jon is not a big talker but when he speaks, it sure is worthwhile to listen. He knows nearly everyone in town and is respected far and wide.
Board members who have served with John have fond recollections of his gentle humor. They talk about the way he was able to pour his passion into his work and inspire others to be actively involved as well.
He is referred to by colleagues as an organized, experienced and efficient leader who can mobilize people and get things done. And John's commitment to his family is heartwarming to see. His wife Dorothy is an absolute gem.
John has gifted the community with his leadership in so many ways. He is the Medical Director of Behavioral Health at Blue Cross Blue Shield of Minnesota. He maintains an appointment in the University of Minnesota Department of Psychiatry as a full Professor. He has published nationally and internationally in the area of abuse of children with handicaps.
John's volunteer activities have included Chairing the National Association of the Deaf Committee on Mental Health and Deafness, the Lake Owasso Children's Home Advisory Committee, the Board of Directors of Family Service, Inc., and currently he serves as a Trustee of the F.R. Bigelow Foundation, as a member of the Management Improvement Fund of the Saint Paul Foundation and the Development Committee of Wilderness Inquiry.
I have the honor of working with John as co-chair of the Neighborhood House Capital Campaign Committee. Over the past 18 months, I have probably had breakfast with John more often than Dorothy has. His dedication to Neighborhood House is unwavering. He mentors us all on this fundraising journey. He is the quintessential gentleman always thoughtful, generous, and good-humored. And when he gets that Irish twinkle in his eyes we know he has good news for us.
At the heart of his work is his deep commitment to actively serving his community. His enduring support, genuine caring, and involvement with Neighborhood House and our program participants embody the meaning of volunteerism. Please join me in saluting John Scanlan as Honorary Board member of Neighborhood House.
January 5, 2019
Notes from Friends, Relatives, Associates
...a beautiful life, so well lived! How blessed we all are to have known such a man as John Scanlan.
Dear Scanlan TribeUpon hearing of the news that John took his journey to the spirit world, I had a flood of memories: his huge heart, kind spirit and always warm and graceful. He guided me most recently with his wisdom with Wilderness Inquiry and of commitment to raising funds for the programming. Harking way back to the old Summit School gym, getting things set up for a bazaar or some goofy event.
He impacted my life and I always found comfort and joy to be with him. Thank you for sharing him with us all.
He was such a gift to many, and we are honored to have known him.
John clearly had an amazing impact on so many people. I appreciated his great personality, and sense of humor, all mixed with humility. He will leave behind a great legacy.
JOHN from Rene'
Roots firmly grasping the earth,
Trunk forthright and tall,
Branches weathering all storms
sheltering us all,
while leaves whisper poetry in our ears.
All this beauty
lifting us up,
yet holding us true
to the earth.
...I worked with him at BHSI and BCBS. He was a great mentor to me.
...We are honored to be here today to celebrate John's life and legacy. We have always felt so welcome into the Scanlan clan, a testament to John's spirit, kindness and integrity that shines on through his children.
John was a special person, one that had a profound impact on my professional and personal life. He was a person of great compassion and commitment. His presence wiil be missed by all.
He lived a great life and gave so much of himself He will be missed in so many ways...an amazing career, an amazing man.
January 3, 2019
Notes about John from friends, relatives, and associates:
...he was always so warm and funny and loved to laugh. We would often run into him as he humbly went about his burden of changing the world and building community.
...It was my good fortune to be at St. Paul Ramsey Hospital when John was there and Medical Director of the hospital. John has been a blessing to all who knew him.
A memory of John from years ago: John was my boss as the Director of the Ramsey Satellite Clinic when I was at Maplewood. One time at a meeting, he was telling us that the Board had decided to do something about the clinic that none of us thought was a good idea. I commented that it was hard to understand why he had asked our opinion of the change if it didn't impede the decision. Instead of blowing me off or becoming defensive, he acknowledged the problem. I think that's an example of why he was a good leader.
...We had always hoped John to be in better health than he actually was, for this world is considerably darker without him. It is a cliche', but they don't make em like that anymore. What a wonderful man.
We join you in the loss of John; his gentle nature, kindness, and generosity benefited all of us.
John was a very special person. He certainly has left his mark and made this world a better place.
What an extraordinary life John had, being surrounded by the women he loved. He will be dearly missed.
We are very sorry for your loss. Uncle John was a tremendous man, gentle, inquisitive, kind, and always engaging. I loved chatting with him, and will miss his gentle spirit always. What an honor to have known him.
We are very sorry to hear of John's passing. While it may be inevitable for all of us, that doesn't make it easier for those who remain. Nevertheless, I look back fondly on the times his life intersected with mine- as a colleague ,a boss, and as a neighbor.
January 1, 2019
HAPPY NEW YEAR, JOHN MICHAEL!
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