Scott S. Sherrill, 61, born and raised in the suburbs of Pittsburgh, Pa. He was thoroughly enjoying his well-earned retirement when he passed away suddenly on July 12, 2026, in The Villages, Fl.

Lovingly known as Scottie, he spent his career in the steel industry beginning in Pittsburgh then moving his family to southern Alabama where he lived until his retirement. He had several degrees including an advanced degree in grilling, crockpot cooking, and mixology. Regardless of his higher education and stellar reputation at work, Scottie never thought he was better than anyone else—unless you were an a*hole.

Once ensconced in The Villages, Scottie embraced the active lifestyle of hitting the gym to keep his biceps big (they were!), playing water volleyball, and cruising around the town squares in his golfcart. (He’d mention the brand, its charging capabilities, long battery life, etc. but we are clueless about such things.) (We’d like to mention that said golf cart is now for sale, low mileage.) As someone raised watching Mister Roger’s Neighborhood, he relished making new friends and being a good neighbor to those around him. Some would say he is in a better place now, but to Scottie, there was no better place than The Villages.

Once Cops was no longer making new shows and NFL sports were ruined, Scottie spent his time meeting up with his core group of high school friends or getting drinks with his new friends, sitting listening to music, and shooting the breeze. The trifecta was a late-night Disaronno on the rocks, followed by Totino’s Pizza Rolls and/or a box of Kraft Macaroni & Cheese. This was usually followed up by remembering the Sherrill family trait of a weak stomach.

In addition to his siblings, Scottie is survived by his rescue cat, Patches who he found under his grill on a stormy summer night, his daughter, Amanda, her husband, Hunter and their adored son, Hudson. He is also survived by his son, Nicholas and faux adopted daughter, Hannah Simms Cooper, in addition to a legion of dear friends and admirers from all his years on earth. To know Scottie was to love him.

In lieu of flowers, feel free to raise a glass, toast his memory and a life that ended all too soon, but thankfully without any suffering.