Scott Evan Proctor finished his last waltz on April 19th, 2022, in Cleveland, Ohio, after a well fought battle with medical conditions arising from a bone marrow transplant in 2019. Scott was eternally optimistic about most things in life, and would have encouraged us to believe that “things will work themselves out,” even in his death.

Scott was born prematurely on November 3rd, 1950 in Cleveland, Ohio to the late E. Allen and Eleanor (Quay) Proctor - the only thing he was ever early for. This early arrival affected his hearing and caused him to use hearing aids from a young age, which he happily turned off whenever he was done listening to someone talk. Despite his hearing loss, Scott was an avid lover of music, joining a jug band as the lead washboard player, and perusing Sound and Vision magazines for hours in the bathroom. His biggest regret was skipping “some party on a cow farm” to go camping with friends, missing Woodstock entirely. With a pride for his eclectic and extensive collection of CDs, he was never without a music suggestion and often made mixes for his loved ones.

In his youth, Scott (aka “Bumpy,” for reasons no one remembers) survived summer cross-country road trips to the west coast while packed into tiny British cars with his parents and two older siblings. The cars’ lack of air conditioning would have been torture for Scott, who would begin sweating at the mere mention of temperatures over 70 degrees. It was perhaps these long car trips that made Scott into the aggressive driver he was; no ride was complete without honking, calling other drivers “yahoos,” or brake-checking.

After high school, he lived in a basement and attended Ohio State University on a very part-time basis, where he majored in making bathtub wine and taking a lot of drugs. It was here that he was introduced to the love of his life, Patricia, who was not initially interested because of his “hippie tendencies.” He pursued her diligently, and she eventually discovered that underneath his overgrown and unkempt hair was an incredibly kind and caring soul. They married in 1973, and he later gave up his long locks for a full and luscious mustache that he maintained for decades.

Scott’s gentle nature drew him into the field of nursing. He graduated from Huron Road Hospital School of Nursing in 1988 and remained a Registered Nurse for over 25 years. He was most happy working in home health care, though he was notoriously behind on paperwork, as his typing skills were limited to the hunt and peck method. He was an incredible caretaker for not only his patients, but also his wife and three children. Always a family man, Scott’s biggest accomplishments were his relationships - he relished spending time with those he cared most about, and reminded them he missed them before they even left. He held together his family with undying affection, extended embraces, blue Sticky Stuff, and laughter. Scott was always ready with a bad joke to make them smile (“Can you make me an egg?” “Sure! POOF - you’re an egg!”). After his retirement from nursing, Scott continued to nurture those around him by babysitting his fur and human grandchildren. He relished his role as a grandpa, and took an exorbitant number of pictures that he looked through when apart from them.

He also cultivated an extensive garden, where he grew an abundance of tomatoes that he did not eat and tried to pawn off on visitors. His joy in taking care of others spilled over into the kitchen as well, where he loved both cooking and micromanaging the way others’ cooked or loaded the dishwasher. His favorite holiday was Thanksgiving, where he continuously pulled a variety of side dishes from the kitchen all meal long, but consistently forgot to cook the rolls. But it could be argued he liked the day after Thanksgiving even more: he always had a second turkey ready for “Turkey Soup Day.”

Scott was always happy to help out family, friends, and neighbors. He often saved the day by offering his pocket knife to open something, unlocking a door with one of the many spare keys from his foot-long key chain, or providing a wad of napkins from his back pocket. An unrelenting dog-lover, Scott’s pockets also frequently contained dog treats, which he would dole out liberally regardless of owner approval. In his spare time, he made daily trips to DrugMart in a car that smelled strongly of Royal Copenhagen and contained at least a dozen coffee mugs, a stack of Rolling Stone Magazines, and four 2-liters of Diet Pepsi at all times. He also frequented Adam’s Place for breakfast with family on weekends, ordering only the off-menu JD omelet that no one else seemed to know about.

Besides his parents, Scott was preceded in death by his beloved dog, Spanky, whom he paid a small fortune to have individually cremated and stored in a purple velvet box. Scott is survived by his wife, Patricia (Barkhurst) Proctor, children, Kendra Proctor, Landon Proctor, and Caitlin (Chad) Proctor-Frazier, and grandchildren, Henry and Josephine Proctor-Frazier. Left with decades of fond and colorful memories are his siblings, Garth (Heather) Proctor and Quay (Gary) Proctor-Mears, and a multitude of other extended family members.

No flowers, please. As Scott used to say, all he needs is “Just a smile”. But should you feel compelled to spend your money to honor his memory, donations can be made to the Cleveland Animal Protective League. There will be no service, at Scott’s behest. Instead, please use this online space to post pictures, videos, or memories that we can revisit whenever we are missing Scott.