Remembering Grandpa Onas Cudley Scandrette
Its been just over two years since my grandfather, Dr. Onas Cudley Scandrette died at 91 years old. My cousin, Chunky Blood, has written me recently inquiring about things I might remember about grandpa. Sometime knowing more about where we come from helps us makes sense of who we are becoming. I still think of my grandfather alot– as a signpost fading into the past about where I come from and where my destiny lies. I remember being at the hospital just after he died. I was sitting in a chair beside the bed where his body was beginning to stiffen– his mouth still open. Next to him was my dad on the phone making funeral arrangements. I could hear my sons running around out in the hall. That moment gave me an enduring picture of the cycle of life– where I have been– the child out in the hall, where I am, and where I am headed: middle age, older adulthood and mortality.
I found a place to write offer a tribute to him in SOUL GRAFFITI:
“My other grandfather, Onas Cudley Scandrette, could not have been more different than Grandpa Ray Clow. He and my grandmother Mary lived in a college town near Chicago where my grandfather was a professor of psychology. Their home, instead of being decorated with church craft bazaar knick-knacks, knitted Kleenex box cozies, and dinosaur bones, was furnished with 1950s modern furniture, shelves of art and psychology books, and walls hung with black and white art prints and paintings—including signed lithographs by Marc Chagall, Pablo Picasso, and Thomas Hart Benton.
Grandpa Onas looked the part of an eccentric college professor, wearing thick glasses, suit jackets, and a derby hat as he drove his red MG convertible through campus. He dabbled in mountaineering, experimented with Pop Art, and was an accomplished photographer who corresponded with Ansel Adams. In his basement there was a dark room where he perfected experimental print techniques that he documented for publication in photographic society journals. I rarely saw my grandfather without an SLR camera around his neck.
He also wrote down and told stories about his childhood experiences and wrote romantic and philosophical poetry exploring the human psyche. Academically and personally Grandpa Onas was interested in the intersection of faith and humanity—particularly the psychological dimensions of human spirituality. He was a lifelong fan of the Hebrew Psalms because of their resonance with subjective human moods and motivations. Raised in a religious tradition that regarded the arts and culture as “worldly” and the cravings of the body as shameful, he sought to find God in the pleasures of human creativity.
Always a bit of a hipster, Grandpa Onas wore the latest running shoes, was the first person I knew to own a personal computer, and gave me recommendations about his favorite rock music. For birthdays and Christmas he and my grandmother gave me art supplies and books. They took me to museums and galleries where I recall seeing Andy Warhol’s car crash sculptures, the photographs of Robert Mapplethorpe, and the assemblage sculptures of horses by Deborah Butterfield. From Grandpa Onas I learned to explore the goodness and beauty of God revealed in humanity—through the arts, philosophy, literature, history, and the study of cultures.
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