Scott E. Sutton passed into the next life on November 5, 2025, with his wife Susie at his side. He had been in hospice care for a kidney transplant that, after a miraculous twenty years, finally began to fail.

I believe Scott is now sampling the perfection of God’s creation in Heaven. This ink drawing of his from Surfing in Heaven pretty well tells the story. I had warned Scott not to catch too many waves before I got there.  He was always one to catch more waves than the rest of us — especially if he was wearing his webbed neoprene gloves! But I have a feeling he’s not listening to that kind of chatter now.

Scott freelanced all of the ink drawings for Surfing in Heaven entirely by hand — no computers, no digital tracing — just pure, freehand artistry. When I first contacted him about the project back in 2019, he was all in. I could tell immediately that he understood exactly what I was trying to accomplish: to recreate scenes from our childhood growing up as surfer groms in Corona del Mar (CdM) during the 1960s.

We shared a special bond around those unforgettable memories of our childhood. Working through each pencil sketch brought both of us right back to those early days together. Looking back now, I realize that the time I spent with Scott was a gift from God.

Check out Scott’s drawings from the book here.

Family of Ree

Over the course of his career, Scott authored and illustrated seventeen popular children’s books, including the treasured “Family of Ree” series, which has sold over 80,000 copies. Written in rhyme, these books taught kids important values around problem-solving without calling in the superhero to win the day. Our kids loved them!

Scott’s artistic journey began in junior high school in 1966 when his first cartoon appeared in Surfer Magazine. That cartoon gave him instant fame among our CdM surfing community and set the stage for his remarkable career as an artist and storyteller.

More on Scott’s legacy can be found at scottesutton.com.

How His Art Saved His Life

After an admittedly “not so great” childhood, writing books and creating art became Scott’s escape when he wasn’t surfing the Corona del Mar Jetty with his bros.

An August 18, 2013 article in the Daily Pilot titled “Art as Lifesaver” chronicled Scott’s journey after being diagnosed with polycystic kidney disease in 1991. A purchaser of his art heard about his situation and generously offered him her kidney. As if that wasn’t incredible enough, after a full round of compatibility testing — it was a match!

We don’t need to guess what the odds were; we know it was a gift from God. Scott underwent transplant surgery in 2005, and that kidney faithfully served him for twenty years. Praise God for those two decades in which we were blessed by Scott’s many gifts — especially his remarkable ability to make us all laugh.

L.O.L.

One of the things I appreciated most about Scott was his ability to make people laugh. He was even asked to emcee the Corona del Mar High School 40th-year class reunion because of that very gift. Plain and simple, Scott had a knack for getting you to laugh. It was who he was.

Whatever came out of his mouth was funny — and you laughed. Despite his challenges, humor shaped his perspective on life. And he had more challenges than most of us could imagine. Everyone looked forward to seeing Sutton, because who doesn’t love to laugh? For crying out loud, Scott could even get you laughing at a funeral.

Here’s one story that proves it.

You might not think it’s funny, but my friends and I have laughed about it for almost sixty years. To picture it, you need to imagine Scott’s car in high school — a 1960s vintage Ford Falcon with surf racks on top. I’d be lying if I told you it was nice and shiny. It was a bit of a beater. I have no idea what was under the hood, but it couldn’t have been much. Maybe a cylinder or two? That thing was truly a “gutless wonder.”

Whenever Sutton stomped on the gas, it downshifted and made such a loud noise you’d think we were taking off in a rocket ship. The truth was, with four of us inside and our longboards strapped to the roof, it could barely get out of the starter gate. Sutton used to let the engine run for ten to fifteen minutes before taking it out, swearing it would help it “warm up.” (LOL.)

On one surf trip, we were trying to climb the infamous Third Street Hill in Laguna Beach — and no, that was not on the way to the beach. About halfway up that famously steep hill, three of us had to jump out and push! It created a bit of a traffic jam for other cars coming up. What I’d give for a photo of that scene. We never let Sutton live it down.

The Day of The Cat

One vivid memory that has stuck with me over the years was the day of the cat — a surfing safari in Sutton’s Falcon that lives in infamy. It was one of those days when we seemed to drive from Newport Beach to San Diego and back again searching for waves, and we were still bone-dry. (Today’s groms will never understand that kind of mission)

We finally ended up back at the River Jetty in Newport, hunting for a parking spot. Just as the Falcon rolled through a stop sign at maybe three miles per hour, a cat darted out in front of us. We all felt the thump-thump under the tires. Our worst fears were confirmed when we looked out the back window and saw the poor cat flipping and flopping in the street.

Ugh.

Being the supportive surfing bros we were, we all yelled in unison, “Sutton — you just killed that cat!” Scott, being the sensitive guy he was around animal life, took the blame completely. You could see how terrible he felt as we all reminded him about the flip-flops.

Just as he was expressing his remorse, another cat appeared on the opposite side of the street, sitting on the curb, watching us drive by. Naturally, wanting to make sure Sutton was okay, we all yelled together:

“Sutton! That’s his friend!”

There’s still some dispute among our group of seventy-somethings (today) about what happened after that — the fog has rolled in on our memories a bit. Clearly, that cat left a permanent impression on all of us.

In my version, we drove a couple of miles north and paddled out at Huntington Cliffs. Amazingly, the wind had turned into a strong Santa Ana offshore gust, and the waves were consistently pumping at six to eight feet. We surfed until our arms couldn’t take any more paddling.

Thank you, Scott, for the memories. And for making me laugh.

Comments

If you knew Scott, surfed with him, or were touched by his art or humor, I’d love for you to share your stories in the comments below.