Remembrance: Scott Swann ’86, MPhil ’93
1960–April 16, 2025
By Adrian Boeye ’26
The first time I heard of Scott Swann was through a heartfelt piece he wrote in COA Magazine for beloved COA community member James “Howdy” Houghton. I would learn more about Scott on my OOPs trip, after which I took my first class with him in fall 2022. It was the first of many classes with Scott that I would take. I came to learn he had the kind of curiosity which can drive an individual to engage with almost any subject. It is a rare attribute in anyone, but one I thoroughly enjoyed. This curiosity quickly led us to a conversation about the lips of Allosaurus fragilis (rather, their “extra oral soft tissue”) and blossomed into further chaos involving all manner of topics, from Scott’s travel adventures, anemones, stories of Mount Desert Island, various strange birds, or anything else which happened to strike our fancy.
I could ramble on about the three years I spent with Scott and how I came to consider him family. However, something I want to reflect on is the patience and kindness always apparent in how he observed and learned from the world around him. This approach to observation was characteristic of Scott, and something that I felt he brought out in others. The world around us is complex and there’s a lot to be interested in. For Scott, this curiosity and desire to observe and learn were manifested in his lived experiences: his travels across the world looking at birds in South America, hyraxes in Africa, or his time on MDI. Through his rickety slide projector and the stories he told, Scott brought those places to us. It’s here I think that he gave one of the most valuable lessons I have received: how important it is to go out there, feed that curiosity and desire to observe, and live a life rich in experience and story. That curiosity and drive to experience the world and its wonders is one of the most powerful components of the human experience, and Scott as a naturalist and human being showed me just how impactful that could be.
Scott’s accumulated stories were a fundamental aspect of who he was. As a naturalist, a father, a friend, and a teacher, Scott was always more than happy to share those stories. And I find that trying to move forward without having Scott around to keep telling those stories has been something which has weighed on me heavily, as I am certain it has for many others. The time we have is finite, there are only so many things we can do with it. I think Scott would agree that we should limit how much of it we spend on him. So, do something that matters to you, learn something that you’re curious about, go somewhere you want to see. Live your life. Scott certainly did, and he inspired me to do the same, from freezing off the tips of my fingers in Alaska to seeing how T. rex moved like an eight ton chicken.
Through the life he led, the stories and experiences he so happily shared with inquisitive minds, his kindness, generosity, and care for the world around him, Scott made an enormous positive impact on so many people, including me. There will always be a place for you in my heart, Scott, just as you held a place in your heart for us. I’ll miss you, buddy.
