He was a “humble” man — but also a man who could “rattle cages and make things move.”
That’s how Cornell Scott (pictured), who directed the Hill Health Center in New Haven for 35 years and was a visionary in the community health movement nationally, was described most often at his funeral service Wednesday morning.
Scott, who was 73, died on Aug. 25 after a long illness. Battell Chapel at Yale Wednesday was filled with Scott’s relatives, current and former staff members of the health center, politicians, and just members of the community who knew and loved the man everyone called Scotty. (Click here and here for previous stories.)
Hill Health’s chief operating officer, Gary Spinner, noted that Scott grew the center to 500 employees in several locations. “He recognized early on that providing primary medical care alone was not sufficient to meet the needs of the community.” So the Hill Health Center expanded its services to include dental and mental health care, and care for the homeless and those suffering from various addictions.
Spinner added that the most remarkable thing about Scott was his “uncanny ability to interact with anyone and make them feel special” — whether a bank president or a security guard, a doctor or a nurse’s aide.
Waiting for the service to begin, Elaine O’Keefe (pictured), executive director of an AIDS research center at Yale and head of a new community health initiative there, said she met Scott in the 1980s. She was director of the AIDS division for the New Haven Health Department then; they were confronting the enormity of the AIDS crisis.
“He was one of the most compassionate, powerful people I’ve ever known,” she said. “He had a vision for what he wanted to do to improve health care access for everyone. He was really a giant in the community health center movement, and he did so much for the people of New Haven. I just will miss him terribly.”
Shortly after the service got underway, co-officiated by the Rev. Dr. Frederick J. Streets and the Rev. Dr. Samuel Slie, soprano Tiffany Jackson delivered a spell-binding rendition of “Ave Maria.” Click here to listen.
Jim Rawlings (pictured), a vice president at Yale New Haven Hospital and a leader of the NAACP’s statewide health advocacy work, gave a eulogy. “I don’t want to see any sad faces in this room today.” Rawlings began. “Those who knew Scotty know he was never a sad person.” But, describing himself as “a weak man,” Rawlings acknowledged he might have a hard time forcing a smile at the service for his dear friend of 35 years.
He described many a trip the two took, often to professional meetings, “with a box of shrimp and Dr. Peppers in the car.” He said Scott was a world traveler, attracting intellectual “groupies” who gathered around him wherever he went, to discuss serious issues, especially health care. Rawlings said that if he ever went to such a meeting without his friend and colleague, everyone’s first question was, “Where’s Scotty?”
Rawlings described Scott as having “many friends and a few enemies. He had enemies in the right places. When you have senators and congresspeople and presidents who don’t like you because your position is that health care is a right, not a privilege, I think that’s a noble way to have an enemy.”
First cousin McKinley Johnson (pictured), one of the family members who spoke, said when he came from St. Louis to New Haven for the funeral, he realized, “I really didn’t know my cousin, even though I knew him all my life. I never knew his nickname was Scotty, but it appears it was an a propos nickname. Because I found out that Scotty has been beaming people up. Now the Lord, our God, has beamed Scotty up, and I think he’s where he belongs and he’ll never walk alone.”
After the service, state Rep. Bill Dyson (on the left in photo, with State Sen. Martin Looney behind him) described Scott as a man of special talents.
“Scotty was one of a kind. He was a visionary. He had humility. He was concerned about people. He was a person who knew how to rattle the cages and make things move.”
Food figured prominently in Scott’s love of life.
When those at the service were urged to turn to a neighbor and share a memory of him, Teasie Blessingame (pictured) said Scott had been a close friend of her family for many years. “One year he came for New Year’s and I had black-eyed peas. He never stopped talking about those black-eyed peas until a few weeks ago, and that dinner was about ten years ago.”
After the service, Scott was buried at Grove Street Cemetery.
