Welcome
Glen Reichelderfer

Glen and his family are friends of the Scanlon-McGlynns and have resided in the same wonderful neighborhood, the Marquette Neighborhood, in Madison since before 1990, when the Scanlon-McGlynns moved from Illinois to their house in the Neighborhood.
 

Peace be with you.

As many of you know, my name is Glen Hall Reichelderfer. I have lived on the Eastside of Madison now for over 26 years. My oldest daughter, Caitlin, played soccer with Brendan when they were in grade school. So my wife Christine and I have known the Scanlon family for quite some time. I currently am a minister at Christ Presbyterian Church located in the 900 block of East Gorham.

I welcome all of you here to this moment of time--a time filled with pain, a time full of heartache and a time of remembrance. There are all sorts of people here that represent different parts of Brendan’s life: his family, his extended family, his friends from Madison, his friends from Chicago, Song Kim from the East High's Art Department as well as some other of Brendan’s teachers. All of us together are gathered here to remember Brendan and to celebrate what he meant to us.

There are all sorts of emotions here today. Some here may be feeling anger, shame, shock, or guilt; some may feel a bit bewildered, sad, empty, numb, or are filled with a vague unease; some may be experiencing a sense of deep loss or a deep ache for belonging. Some may feel powerless, helpless, full of regret, frustrated or grief-stricken. All of our feelings, no matter how difficult they may be, are welcome here. For this room is a safe place. The room itself is not sacred; it is we who gather here with open hearts that make this room sacred. In opening ourselves up in honesty and love, we are in the presence of God. God welcomes and sanctifies all of our feelings. So come, come enter fully into this moment, where the ticking of the clock just does not matter. So don’t consult your watches, for that time will pass in no time and will become this time now.

There are stories. Experiences that you had with Brendan. Both negative and positive. We ask you to save those stories and share them at the Wilmar Center after this moment. You all are invited back there to eat after this moment. I can just imagine what stories you can tell. All I can say is don’t hold back.

(Applause.)
 
 

Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8
Read by John, Barb and Matt Mueller

Brendan spent much of his time during his grade school years at the Muellers' house, on Lake Monona and just 50 yards from the Scanlon-McGlynns'. During those years Matt and Brendan were best friends, and afterwards as they pursued different paths they remained good friends. The Mueller and Scanlon-McGlynn families are very close.

In the Scanlon-McGlynns' house, from the time Brendan was 8 years old until now, at the head of the stairs leading to the upstairs, where Brendan's, his sisters' and his parents' bedrooms are, there is a poster with this passage from Ecclesiastes.
 

For everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven:
 
A time to be born, and a time to die;
 
A time to plant, and a time to harvest;
 
A time to kill, and a time to heal;
 
A time to break down, and a time to build up;
 
A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
 
A time to mourn, and a time to dance;
 
A time to throw stones, and a time to gather them;
 
A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
 
A time to seek, and a time to lose;
 
A time to keep, and a time to throw away;
 
A time to tear, and a time to sew;
 
A time to keep silent, and a time to speak;
 
A time for war, and a time for peace;
 
A time to hate, and a time to love.

(Applause.)
 
 

Brendan "SOLVE" Scanlon
"Nice-one"

Nice-one is an artist, who lives in Chicago, and a close friend of Brendan.
 

I recognized Solve's street presence before I met the giant behind the name. I'm pretty sure everyone did; I don't know how you couldn't.

When I first moved to Chicago two years ago, there was a greeting: "Welcome to Chicago, I'm Solve, and I'm going to write on your shit."

I remember the first time we put up stickers together.
 
(Acting out peeling stickers)  Peel. . . Peel. . . . Slap!
 
Never looking around first, never concealed, and he didn't care. It's what he wanted to do, so he did it. And he plastered his name literally all over Chicago, with that same enthusiasm for every sticker, poster, box, tag, board, and even a TV...

I can remember several occasions when we would tell him to "Just chill out, man! It is illegal whether you think it should be or not." Most of his responses would be accompanied with that signature laugh we all know and love. I can still hear his laugh ringing in my ears...

It... was... a... deep... contagious... laugh... that resonated everywhere he went. No matter how down I was feeling, he always made me laugh.

He was my favorite person to be around, always smiling and telling everything how it is, never censoring a word that came out of his mouth.

Brendan dedicated himself to that 5-letter word known as "Solve". Everyone has something they need to solve, and Brendan made sure they knew it. He lived and breathed the word every moment he was alive.

He was a prime example of how to live life. His stature matched his dedication. He would literally walk over any obstacles that confronted him, never stopping. He wanted to do everything, be everywhere, and we all could only do our best to keep up. I've never witnessed a man that would produce at the rate he produced daily. He did more and lived a fuller life than anyone that has lived to be a 100. He raised the bar for all artists both in the studio and on the street. His presence inspired everyone around him to strive for something more, to be bigger than what we are now, to have a purpose, to dream for something.

He was the Father of RGB and was the brother I never had. All of Chicago loved him and was truly affected by his presence.

Some of you may ask "What is RGB?" Half of us would respond "rad girls and boys"; the other half would say "rope, guns and beer." We are a collective of artists that worked together as a team and as a family.

This is the statement Brendan wrote about our Collective known as "RGB":

He had a laugh that no one could forget; it was contagious. Our neighbors could hear it through the walls two floors up.

He was truly the brother I never had; I loved and respected him so fucking much. He taught me so much about work ethic and life at large. He was the Big Poppa of RGB, he kept shit going, everyone on task and I pushed everyone to keep with his work ethic. I don't know what RGB will do without him.

Holy shit, I miss that kid, that smile, that laugh, that face, that bike, the way he drummed, the way he didn't give a shit about the law no matter how much legal shit he was in! I wouldn't still be painting and putting in work if it wasn't for him and everyone in the RGB family; I miss him so fucking much!

I've never been good with words, but he would always read shit and correct the fucking shit out of it. He wrote the RGB statement, and he sent it to us all only once. That's all it took; we all agreed we loved it. This was our statement that he wrote for us all in RGB. He was so graceful with words.

Keep him in your hearts and on the streets!

Don't let Chicago forget what Brendan meant to us!

I'll keep everyone updated about funerals and memorials.

For those wondering where his bike was taken: It's inside OhNo!Doom, and safe.

Stay safe everyone.

(Applause.)
 
 

For Brendan
Dan Flanagan

Dan is one of Brendan's cousins, about 9 months older than Brendan. Dan's and Brendan's families are very close. Dan and Brendan grew up together, played soccer together on a team coached by Dan's Dad through elementary and middle schools, and went to the same schools from 1st grade through high school with Dan a grade ahead of Brendan. Dan is also an artist and street artist.
 

At times life can feel like an uphill climb, a battle against absurdity, meaninglessness and negativity. Brendan was a born leader in this struggle. Armed with his notorious smile, Brendan would always laugh in the face of life’s absurdities, and he recognized that we are all in this thing together.

He would never take himself too seriously. In fact, the last time I saw him, I remember he was concerned that I notice the progress of his rapidly receding hairline, and that I find it funny. He was so tall I wouldn’t have noticed.

There is no hyperbole, no clichés needed in describing and honoring Brendan. Without embellishment, let me point to some of his finest qualities. First of all, for those of you who haven’t seen him in a few years, he got huge; he went through puberty like three times.

Brendan was totally honest, from the very beginning. He was humble, intelligent and creative, and rarely cynical or negative, and he wore his love for others on his sleeve. Simply put, he was the kind of person that is never in full supply.

Brendan was blessed in many ways. He was blessed with an amazing family that supported him through awkward teenage years, years shall we say “clouded in controversy.” Brendan screwed up. In full disclosure, I set a great example for him in this regard. He caused problems for those that loved him the most. But there was too much love, too solid a foundation for him to slip too far, and besides, being self-indulgent and boring just wasn’t him. He was too fascinated with the world around him to get stuck on the worst parts of himself, just as he never focused on the worst in others.

He never listened to the hometown kids that thought they had him pegged, that said he was just a big goofball. Of course he WAS a goofball, but he already knew that, and he was comfortable with himself. He was more than that, and he was going to find out what that was. He was always more interested in things he didn’t know than things that he did, and he wasn’t scared of the infinite possibilities.

As many of us have learned only recently, because he was too cool to pick up the phone, Brendan had made a very exciting life for himself out in Chicago, the City he adored. He was a very promising and respected young graphic designer, as well as a prolific and influential artist and musician. He was finally able to invest himself and his time in what interested him most, and that was art, hard work, and other people.

I ask that we may stop, and look at Brendan’s life in its entirety, and for its entirety. Not to find some silver lining to the end, to unspeakable tragedy, but to recognize a gift, to recognize the fullness of his shortened life, because there was nothing tragic about the life he lived. By the time that so much emptiness, so much that is ugly, finally found Brendan, and took him from us, the proverbial last laugh, the existential laugh, as well as every other kind, was already his. His journey had come full circle, back to the city in which he was first reared; it had reached a kind of maturity, a level of completion. Through others, Brendan was able to find himself; he was able to find true happiness.

Brendan, you gave us 24 great years, and lord knows we wish we could have 24 more. Sadly, that wasn’t to be. To know you, was to love you, to know you was to laugh with you. In the end, we can so clearly see that you lived out your life humbly, with a great energy, kindness and creative beauty; in this regard you have set a hell of an example for me, and everybody else in this room…

And so, from the entire extended family, including those who couldn’t be here, we love you Brendan, so much, we miss you, and you have made us all proud.

(Applause.)
 
 

Baby Brother
Caitlin Scanlon

Caitlin is the younger of Brendan's two sisters.
 

When I think of Brendan as a baby, I remember mostly the size of his mouth. The size of his mouth and the volume of what came out of it. Actually, that's something that stayed consistent through his life! (Laugh)

Since he was a baby, and made so much noise, he could get away with so much because he knew when to give that mischievous smile.

Brendan had become an accomplished, driven, recognized artist while we as his family were still loving him with a sense of relief - relief that he made it through high school AND college, and had a job that paid the bills, and most of all that he was happy.

I know I missed the train (pun intended) on keeping up with what he was doing artistically, and I regret it. He had become this man that we are so exceedingly proud of that I literally felt my chest tighten every time I would tell someone about him; it was almost too surreal to talk about.

I always had a sneaking suspicion, because he was the baby and the blondest and the loudest and the most troublesome, and because we loved him the most, that Brendan would be the best and the brightest of us. I think in the end he was. He was a flash of light so bright, a flame of creative energy so warm that it touched everyone in its path. This poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay says it perfectly:

I want all of you to do a couple things for my baby brother, my sister, my parents, and for me:

Number 1 – Kiss your brother. Kiss your sister and your mother and father and tell them that you love them. We all probably don’t do it enough, or not as much as we could. It is not worth it to wait, so do it now. (People in the gathering do as Caitlin directed.)

Number 2 – See art! If you have to start by going to a museum and seeing something in a frame, that’s okay. Try seeing it as you’re standing in a bus stop, or as you’re waiting to cross the street, or as you’re sitting outside staring at something you’ve stared at one hundred times. See it on a city wall, or hear it coming out of an open window or from someone on a street corner.

Just SEE ART where you haven't before, because Brendan taught me that art is where we may least expect it.

Then make some.

Don't be afraid to make a statement because it might offend.

DO what you want to do for the sake of beauty, love, friendship, laughter, hope, fun, provoking thought, and DO IT NOW!

I’m going to end with an image that B’s uncle John shared a few days ago. With Brendan’s mess of curly hair, huge mouth with huge teeth and loud laugh to match, I think we can all picture what John describes:

Brendan,

We miss you. We love you. Thank you for sharing yourself with us, and thank you for what you’ve left behind.

I love you all.

(Applause.)
 
 

A Few Minutes of Silence
 
 

Words
Glen Reichelderfer
 
 

There is pain in this room. The pain of parents who did everything in their power to help guide their child in the path of life. The pain of siblings who no longer have this brother, this artist, in their life. The pain of friends who celebrated and commiserated with Brendan as he grew as a person, as his art grew and blossomed inside of him. For us all, the pain of being cut off from a future that no longer includes Brendan, the what-might-have-beens. For Brendan is irreplaceable. Brendan’s life, the life in you and me, is unique. The pain of his premature death touches us all. His death leaves a hole in each of us. Let’s not hide from this pain or pretend that it is not here. Instead, unlike what we are taught, let us embrace it. Allow this pain to touch you in this moment. For we all bear it. Brendan was Bill and Eileen’s son, Caitlin, Megan and Chris’s brother, but he belonged to all of us. And he is gone.

You see, in our society and in our world, violence is so often used as a means to solve problems. Violence solves nothing. It destroys. As Martin Luther King Jr. has said so eloquently:

The pain of Brendan’s untimely death will not be healed when we take vengeance on the one who stabbed him. No, as much as we may hate Brendan’s murderer or feel outrage and indignation that he is alive and Brendan is not, our feelings will not bring Brendan back. They will not really honor what Brendan was all about. Look around you. Look at Brendan’s art. He was about telling the truth, making us take notice and creating beauty.

The pain of Brendan’s death will only be healed when we come to a point of being able to do the impossible and forgive his assailant. I am not condoning this horrific and unspeakable vile rashness that took Brendan’s life. I am talking about a way to honor Brendan so that his death breaks the cycle of violence and retribution. As it is said, “If we keep taking an eye for an eye, in time, the whole world will become blind.”

Brendan’s death eventually will help us cherish our life and the people that we love: our partners, our children and our family. It will cause us to seek healing when we most need it, honor our word when we give it, receive wise counsel when we can use it, to walk in integrity when it’s called for, and to speak plainly/clearly the truth out of a deep place of love and to hug our siblings even when they don’t deserve it.

This pain of Brendan’s unfortunate, untimely and premature death may lead us to some basic questions; some of the deeper questions about the mystery of life itself:

And then:

These are straightforward questions, questions filled with an open honesty, questions that deserve an answer but may never receive a totally satisfactory one. Hold those questions close and follow them. They will help us know the beauty and fragileness of life on a more intimate level. They will help us eventually to give ourselves, with abandon, to this mysterious life we live.

Death is a mystery that cannot be solved, or known or understood by us who are on this side. What happens to people after they die is a mystery. I believe that as Brendan died he discovered that he was not alone in that moment. In fact, I believe that he discovered that he has never been alone, that there has always been a pure point of light, of hope guiding and surrounding him especially in his struggles. I think that when we die, we shall all be changed and life will continue on but in a way that we can’t begin to imagine. Sort of like what happens to a baby during birth.

Death does not end us. Neither does it, I believe, end the good work God seeks to do in and through us. We all will have unfinished business when death touches us on the shoulder. We will all have the need for forgiveness both earthly and divine. I trust that Brendan now knows what I mean even as he is fully known. I believe that the pure point of light, of hope, of love that was in Brendan has now blossomed into a beauty, into a truth, into an awareness that is beyond our capabilities. That pure point envelops, permeates and animates us even now.

(Applause.)
 
 

(Applause.)
 
 

Thanks from Brendan's Family
Chris Lindert

Chris is Brendan's only brother and the oldest of his siblings.
 

The Scanlon and McGlynn families want you to know we are profoundly grateful for you being here.

In our deep sadness, we, Brendan's family, take solace from knowing he had become a happy young man, beloved by us and many others in Madison, Chicago and elsewhere.

We want all of you to join us afterwards at the Wil-Mar Neighborhood Center to break bread together, imbibe some, share stories, cry perhaps, and laugh and laugh. The Center is at 953 Jenifer Street, close to Brendan's house, and we have directions for everyone.

You might be wondering, now that Brendan's body is gone, what will happen with his spirit. So many have called him a rising star, or observed that he must be, as a neighbor put it, "Painting in the sky, piloting amid the heavens, using light and color and clouds and stars to illuminate and draw and pull our attention toward the possible and the beautiful." We also know his drive to make art respected no distinction between day and night.

So, now that Brendan can no longer share his smile and laughter, this is what will happen with his spirit:

Thank you again.

Now let us go to the Wil-Mar Center to continue the celebration.

(Applause.)