Scott Evan Sidell

November 30, 1957 – June 5, 2026

Scott Evan Sidell passed away from natural causes on June 5, 2026, at the age of 68. He was a man of strong opinions, specific habits, and a surprisingly deep capacity for love, though he extended it selectively, and mostly to dogs.

Scott was born in Buffalo, New York to Norman and Dorothy Sidell. He is survived by his six children – Sarah, Rachel, Katie, Kyle, Joshua, and Samantha – his siblings Sidney (Karen), Louis (Maggie), Steve, and Reba, eleven grandchildren, and his former wife Lisa. He was preceded in death by his parents and sister-in-law Sandra, wife of his brother Steve.

Cars were Scott’s first love and his most enduring one. As a teenager, he bought his first car before he had a license, parking it down the street so his parents wouldn’t find out. He went on to found Broadway Motor Company, where he spent decades buying and selling wrecked vehicles, with a quiet gift for seeing the potential in something most people thought was junk. He decorated every home he lived in by lining up cars in the driveway, and occasionally on the lawn, depending on what the HOA had to say about it. Even though he always kept a shop full of cars, the ones in the driveway were his favorites, partly based on their value, and partly because they were the only ones that reliably started.

He was a man of particular tastes. He loved Star Trek, Law & Order, NCIS and Cops, and watched them all with complete dedication. He relished fast food with equal conviction, and was a familiar face at drive-thrus across the area where the staff knew his order and were glad to see him. For years, his morning call to the local deli was a single word – “bagel” – delivered into the phone and followed immediately by a hang-up. His everything bagel with cream cheese and lox was ready ten minutes later.

Every year until his parents passed, Scott made the pilgrimage to Buffalo with his kids to visit his family. He would drop the children at his childhood home and check himself into a nearby hotel, which, in fairness, worked out well for everyone. The kids ran wild for a week – trips to the local playground, their aunts’ and uncles’ houses, Niagara Falls. Copious amounts of chicken wings and pizza were consumed and there was always a family BBQ where his father manned the grill, turning out kosher bologna, and his mother stood in the kitchen smashing sardines for the Caesar salad. Scott rested nearby and rejoined everyone on his own schedule. It was, in its way, a perfect arrangement.

For most of his life, Scott refused to have dogs. However, when they finally weaseled their way into his life, something in him shifted. He bought them rotisserie chickens. He added sliced cheese to their kibble. He slept beside them every night and let them have the run of the house. They were the only living things he said out loud that he loved, and the voice he used when he spoke to them was one most people who knew him had never heard before. The dogs knew a version of Scott that was uncomplicated and gentle, and they were lucky for it.

Scott didn’t say much. His response to most situations was some variation of “yeah, yeah, yeah.” He didn’t keep many friends, but the ones he had knew they could count on him- not necessarily for conversation, but for loyalty, and for showing up when it actually mattered. He laughed too loudly, usually at offensive jokes, and he never apologized for it.

He didn’t make loving him easy. But he was loved, and he is genuinely missed.

There will be no funeral, because Scott would not have wanted one. He wasn’t religious, and he had no patience for ceremony. The family asks instead that you remember him in your own way- in a quiet moment, or when something absurd happens and you find yourself laughing anyway.

In lieu of flowers, donations in Scott’s name to Guilford County Animal Services, who helped rehome his dogs, would mean a great deal to the family.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. We know, Dad. 

Professional Services Entrusted to:

Johnson Funeral Services & Cremations LLC

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