On August 7, my remarkable younger brother Pete Smith passed away at 72. A superb and original artist, a selfless humanitarian, and a dependable resource for the downtrodden, Pete will be painfully missed by all who knew him -- young and old, rich and poor, liberal and conservative.
After graduating from Lower Merion High School in Philadelphia's Main Line suburbs -- which would be his lifelong "stomping grounds" -- Pete bypassed the normal family college route to follow his natural artistic (and "free spirit") inclinations (his mother, Marion Cruice Smith, also received a fine arts education, but marriage and four children largely curtailed her artistic ambitions).
After developing his art skills at Philadelphia College of Arts and the Academy of Fine Arts -- and a few years in the School of Hard Knocks -- Pete embarked on a versatile art career which left his mark in homes, storefronts, countless commercial establishments, and galleries throughout the Philadelphia area and beyond (as far, indeed, as the Roman suburbs of Italy!).
Perhaps Pete's most enduring legacies are the magnificent murals that have enlivened numerous storefronts, restaurant walls, athletic facilities, and private homes from the Main Line to South Jersey to Northern Virginia. The hallmark of his murals was the bold use of color, coupled with sometimes humorous caricatures of his patrons and their families. Some of his murals embodied the technically difficult and eye-deceptive Trompe-l'oeil technique. His mural subjects ranged from a raucous portrayal of the Philadelphia Flyers "Broad Street Bullies" on a basement rec room wall in Downingtown to a picturesque Irish tavern townscape overlooking a living room fireplace in Fairfax County, Virginia.
Pete's life's work was hardly confined to the genteel, but often unprofitable, province of fine art. His rougher jobs included steel mill work and swimming pool maintenance, as well as all varieties of external and internal house painting. But even his house painting ventures included an artistic element; he was a master of the difficult "faux finish" technique, a beautiful example of which graces this writer's dining room.
Later in his career, Pete was free to turn to what he described as his artistic "first love" -- "painting people," as he put it. His portrait work culminated in a remarkable feat of skill and character-capturing -- a portrait series he entitled "90 Studies in 90 Days." These 90 insightful portraits captured the unique qualities of celebrities, family members, and friends, actually accomplished one-per-day over 90 days. The subjects ranged from Mick Jagger to Princess Grace (who was Pete's second cousin), to various colorful Main Line characters, to his lovely wife, Kathy Williams. All 90 portraits were displayed at a well-attended Main Line exhibition, where critical reaction was enthusiastic and sales were brisk.
Although Pete's art career left a great mark in itself, it was probably secondary to his legacy as a genuine humanitarian.
Pete was very open about the severe substance problems that plagued his younger adult years. After matters came to a head, he experienced a personal epiphany, which led him to a successful and total renunciation of alcohol and other substances that lasted for the duration of his life! The sheer will power that sustained this total abstinence for some 40 years, in a society and family whose social occasions were liberally lubricated with strong spirits, is admirable and remarkable indeed to one who personally observed it.
Pete was critically sustained in this discipline by his lifelong association with Alcoholics Anonymous (AA). No matter where he traveled, he would always find his way to an AA meeting, no matter how obscure the location.
But Pete was far from a passive member of AA. With his patient and flexible personality, and his profound commitment to the philosophy of day-by-day reaffirmance, he became something of a guru and crisis counselor to those who had reached the point of desperation from their insidious addiction.
Friends and relatives of those who had reached the end of their addiction rope would often refer them to Pete, and he would never fail to lend his counsel and encouragement against the dead-end of addiction despair. Just in the few days since Pete's departure, mourner after mourner has testified to his successful, or at least helpful, intervention on behalf of relatives or friends who had reached the depths of addiction despair.
In short, Pete's humane engagement in encouraging and assisting the addicted has earned him the enduring gratitude of not only the hundreds he has assisted, but the larger number who were so glad to have a patient and reliable soul to whom they could turn in their time of crisis.
Notwithstanding his errands of mercy in the dark world of drug addiction, "Uncle Pete's" bright side stands out more strongly in our remembrance. No one loved children more than Pete, and the kids completely reciprocated. He doted with deep affection on his grandchildren, and their visitations toward the end will arm him with fond memory on the other side. When he would visit my family on vacation at our mutually beloved Ocean City, NJ, he would always bring a box of donuts from the legendary Dot's Bakery, to the delight of my sugar-hungry grandchildren. A visit from Uncle Pete was always a special treat, and few things make me sadder than that we will have no more.
But Pete shares the very special blessing that attends those who have left their beautiful art behind them. His paintings and murals still beautify the homes of his wife, his siblings, and countless other family members and friends. Indeed, the only "personal property" which my own children dispute among themselves as part of their potential inheritance is an Ocean City boardwalk shorescape, in the style of Mondrian, which "Uncle Pete" bestowed on us years ago.
Though Pete is now gone, he lives on in his very special art and a humanitarian legacy that few can equal.
RIP Pete.