Obituary of John Edward Scott, M.D.

Dr. John Edward Scott, loving husband, father, grandfather and great-grandfather, passed away on May 16, 2015. He is survived by his three children—Barbara Albritton; Jeff Scott and his wife, Jan, and John Scott, all of Tulsa; grandchildren Gale Patterson and her husband Greg of Ladue, MO; Anne Lapour and her husband Ryan of Salem, OR; Stewart Matson of Tulsa; and Matt Scott of Pelican Lake, WI; and five great grandchildren. What Dad loved most was his family, and that love was rooted in his love for Mom. In Dad’s study—directly in front of where he sat—was a decoupage plaque that read simply: “The greatest gift a man can give his children is to love their mother.” Dad and Mom’s lives were intertwined for 75 years, from the time they first met at Kansas City’s Linwood Presbyterian Church in 1932 until she died in 2007. One could say that the finest day of Dad’s life was December 28, 1943, the day that he and Mom were married. They started life together after Dad was inducted into the U.S. Army and was attending the LSU medical school in New Orleans. Once he was commissioned into the Army Medical Corps, they moved to St. Louis and then to San Francisco as Dad fulfilled his military obligation by accompanying troop trains filled with wounded American soldiers returning from World War II. Then it was on to Leavenworth, KS where Dad completed his residency in cardiology. In 1953, they—and their two young sons—settled in Bartlesville,OK. Dad loved medicine, and he took the words of the Hippocratic Oath seriously. As Bartlesville’s first cardiologist, Dad quickly became known as the kind of doctor you would want but is no longer found in today’s world: He made house calls. And because his patients had, by definition, serious medical conditions, he often went out in the middle of the night. Once, he went to the hospital three times on Christmas Eve to save a middle-aged heart attack victim with a family. Until Dad’s retirement in 1986, he found relaxation in three ways. Indoors, he would listen to classical music, and he knew a wide range of operas by heart. Outdoors, he never lost his love of sports. He played tennis regularly until his mid-60s, and even played baseball, football and basketball with us into his mid-40s. Even then, he possessed an uncanny ability to drop kick a football and shoot two-handed set shots with a basketball, skills that had passed into sports oblivion 30 years before. Dad’s other escape was our annual summer vacation, always taken the last two weeks in July and always the result of careful planning. These vacations began with trips to Estes Park, CO in the early 1950s. After Mom and Dad became the parents of a daughter in 1956, they believed we needed to see America. Beginning in 1958, we began a series of cross-country driving vacations. By the time these vacations ended in 1968, we had seen 46 of the 50 states. But of all the places we ever went, Mom and Dad loved Estes Park most. Dad also had a life-long love affair with dogs, learning, and his alma mater, the University of Missouri. Finally, Dad loved God. In truth, his faith was what tied all the pieces of his life together. As a young boy, Dad was indoctrinated into the Calvinistic tradition, and throughout his life, that doctrine never left him. He believed you should be in church on Sunday morning regardless of the weather or the other demands of your life. Although Dad acquired many translations of the Bible, he retained the language of the King James Version in his personal life. Any prayer he uttered contained “thy” and “thou.” His was a faith from a bygone era, but it carried him through the challenges of his life and enabled him to enter the Valley of the Shadow without fear, without flinching, and without tears. A memorial service will be held at 11 a.m. Thursday, May 21 in the sanctuary of the First Presbyterian Church, 709 S. Boston. In lieu of flowers, contributions may be sent to the First Presbyterian Church Library Fund and the Rocky Mountain Conservancy.