As It Happens

John Henry Waddell, whose sculpture depicted the Birmingham bombing victims as adults, has died

John Henry Waddell, an American sculptor who used his art promote the values of humanism and honour the victims of senseless violence, has died. He was 98. 

'He believed in our great potential to do good and to be good,' says his daughter Amy Waddell

John Henry Waddell, a sculptor, painter and teacher, died Wednesday at the age of 98. (Submitted by Amy Waddell)

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John Henry Waddell, an American sculptor who used his art to honour the victims of senseless violence, has died. He was 98. 

The Iowa-born sculptor, painter and teacher used his craft to capture some of the most significant political and social moments of the past century, including the Second World War, the Birmingham bombings and the Sept. 11 attacks.

He died on Wednesday, Nov. 27, surrounded by family at the Waddell Studio and Sculpture Garden in Arizona's Verde Valley, which he and his longtime wife Ruth Holland Waddell called home. 

"He was a humanist. You know, he believed in our great potential to do good and to be good," his daughter Amy Waddell, a Paris-based filmmaker, told As It Happens host Carol Off.  

"He chose to portray people turning toward each other, not away from each other. And I think he felt that, kind of, the secret to resolution, whether it was in personal life or in his work ... was that if we turn toward one another, that there was always hope, that we would find the answers."

Artist, teacher, husband 

Born in Des Moines, Iowa, in 1921, Waddell got an early start as an artist, teaching art to adults when he was just 16.

After he graduated from high school, he went to the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, but his education was interrupted by the Second World War, in which he served as a private first class between 1942 and 1945, all the while continuing to make art. 

After the war, he returned to the Art Institute of Chicago to complete his master of fine arts and master of education. There, he met his wife, artist Ruth Holland.

They would spend the next seven decades together making art and building a family, often acting as each other's muses, Amy said. 

They celebrated their 70th wedding anniversary in March.

Waddell and Ruth Holland Waddell were married for 70 years and served as each other's muses. (Submitted by Amy Waddell )

After college, Waddell headed up art education at the New Bauhaus in Chicago, then at Arizona State University. He retired from academia in 1970 to build his Arizona studio and pursue creative endeavours full time. 

His works can be seen at Ravinia Park in Chicago, Mondavi Winery in California's Napa Valley, Flushing Meadows Park in New York City, and several locations throughout Phoenix. 

'A persevering spirit'

Amy says one her father's greatest strengths was his "persevering spirit."

"Whether that was in his artwork or in his personal life, time and again you would see him rising above adversity," she said.

In 1984, a devastating fire burned his studio — and with it, much of his life's work — to the ground.

"When that burned down, his hair literally went white overnight," Amy said. "But within nine months, with the help of many loving friends and students, he rebuilt a studio — a smaller studio — but he rebuilt the studio because he had to continue to work. It was his way to survive that loss."

Gathering is part of Waddell's collection of sculptures called Generations. (Submitted by Amy Waddell)

That perseverance would come into play again in 2007 when his collection of bronze statues called Generations were stolen from his Arizona ranch, likely by thieves looking to melt down and sell the bronze.

The work featured several figures all gathered together in joy, ranging in age from 17 months to 75 years. The metal was worth no more than $5,000 US, he estimated at the time, but the art was valued at more than $500,000.

"It represented to me an eight-year period of very intense work," he told As It Happens on the heels of the theft in 2007. 

"It was a chapter in my career in which I've devoted my life to the uniqueness of each person and the beauty that I find in the individual difference of each person."

He and his wife spent the next several years, and their entire life savings, recasting the stolen sculptures.

It was his way of "not letting the thieves get him down," Amy said. 

A controversial monument 

Waddell was politically attuned, and his work reflected that.

"As he would confront things that were happening in the news or in the world, he would be inspired to sculpt or to paint," Amy said. 

He is perhaps best known for controversial monument to the victims of the 1963 Birmingham bombing, in which Ku Klux Klan members blew up the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, Ala., killing four African-American girls: Addie Mae Collins, 14, Denise McNair, 11, Carole Robertson, 14, and Cynthia Wesley, 14.

Waddell's bronze sculpture, called That Which Might Have Been, depicts the four girls as adult women, and is on permanent display at the Unitarian Universalist Church in Scottsdale, Ariz.

Waddell poses with his sculpture, That Which Might Have Been, which pays tribute to the four young girls killed in a Klu Klux Klan bombing in Birmingham, Ala., in 1963. (Submitted by Amy Waddell)

It was originally slated to be displayed in Birmingham, but the nudity was a point of contention, with several local ministers speaking out against it.

"I think that was a let down to my father," Amy said. "He would have liked to make that contribution, but he took it in his stride."

The Unitarian Universalist Church's anti-racism committee denounced the monument in a letter to their Phoenix colleagues, reports the Washington Post

"The statue is weighted with both historic and contemporary symbols of oppression," it reads. "Among these is the historic availability of black women as sexual objects to white men, the definition of the future of these girls as one of being merely sexual objects, and the visual similarity of the statue to depictions of the slave auction blocks."

Waddell stood by his work, telling the Post: "The taboo against the human form in our society is very great, and yet at base almost everyone will agree that the human form is beautiful. Besides, clothing dates a piece almost immediately."

Amy said her father listened closely to the criticism and never took it personally.

"He knew the history of America and he understood where that was coming from," she said. "His intent was to really honour those families and those girls and to, you know, kind of put a stamp on that moment and say, 'Never again.'"

'I miss his laugh'

Amy says her most cherished memories of her father are the personal ones.

She remembers sitting at his feet while he sculpted. Sometimes, she says, he would let her craft the feet of the dancers he was sculpting, while he worked on the top.

Waddell at work in his studio. (Submitted by Amy Waddell )

But most of all, she says she remembers his big, warm personality. 

"We had so many artists living with us and my dad was a big storyteller. He had a great sense of humour," she said.

"I do remember, you know, everybody laughing and interacting and how he could guide a group and make everyone feel seen and heard. I miss his laugh. I miss his sense of humour, definitely. Always, always will."

Waddell leaves behind his wife, his daughter, his five sons; Sean, Seamus and Seanchan (Owen), Lindsey and William Waddell, and grandchildren Lisa and Seana, Katie, Elizabeth, Melody, Paul and Sacha Loup Mottier.

His ashes will be scattered at the site of That Which Might Have Been.


Written by Sheena Goodyear. Interview with Amy Waddell produced by Chloe Shantz-Hilkes.