Mary Stewart

where she relocated from Pittsburgh nine years ago in order to be closer to her daughters.

She was born Mary Kathryn Nicely, in 1919, to Roy Washington Nicely and Abigail Slater Nicely

in Ligonier, PA. In that year, women in the United States finally got the vote, the global Spanish

flu epidemic loosened its hold, and Mary came into the world in a cabin on a farm that had

been in the family for over a century. Her parents’ families, the Nicelys and the Slaters, were

among the original settlers in the Ligonier Valley, and figured in that area’s history. Her

grandfather, Samuel Slater, a farmer and local magistrate, drove a wagonload of potatoes over

the hills to help feed the survivors of the Johnstown flood. There were violent conflicts with

native Americans: two Slater girls were scalped and left for dead; one Nicely boy was

abducted, and ultimately chose to stay with his adoptive Senaca family. And of course there

are the tales of “The Murderin’ Nicely Brothers,” documented in a local ballad.

Mary’s descriptions of her childhood on the farm now feel like something out of historical

fiction: taking half a potato to school for her lunch, the treat of an orange in her stocking for

Christmas, constant hard work, but always balanced by much pleasure in her day to day life

with family, friends, and in school. Mary remembered helping her mother, Abbie, (who at the

age of 16 left in her own home to work as a teacher in a one room mountain school), bake

bread and pies to feed their family and their boarders, who were workers at a nearby oil well,

and she also helped care for the farm animals, and readied produce to take to sell door to door.

At the age of 18, after graduating Pitcairn High School, where she loved English class the best,

Mary took the bus into Pittsburgh, by herself, and enrolled in Presbyterian Hospital’s nursing

school. Mary was the first in her family to leave home for school, and she became head nurse

on a surgical ward at Presbyterian Hospital in Pittsburgh, promoted immediately into that role

when she was hired out of school. Some of her patients there were soldiers, returning home

from the Second World War, and The PIttsburgh Press did an article featuring Mary, as she

greeted a soldier who came to visit the floor: her brother, Jack Nicely, who flew rescue

missions for the navy over the South Pacific. Mary’s brother Floyd sailed with the Merchant

Marines, notably the arm of American forces that had the most fatalities in the war, and her

sister, Virginia, followed her into nursing. Like many families of the time, the Nicelys and

Slaters, who for generations rarely strayed from their rural community, suddenly had all of their

children scattered throughout Pennsylvania, the country, and the world.

In her role as head nurse, Mary put her own job on the line when she advocated strongly for a

friend from nursing school, a young African American woman, who despite being a top student

in their class, had been unable to get a job. Her advocacy, along with that young woman’s

talented nursing skills, resulted in Presbyterian Hospital hiring their first black nurse. Mary

described how after their shift would end, all of the nursing students would walk down that

steep, Pittsburgh hill, and would go together to get a Coke at a luncheonette. She would

always ask her African American friend to join them, but she would always refuse. Mary said it

was not until years later that she fully understood that her valued, hardworking colleague would

not have been served at the counter.

It was in her job that that Mary met a young intern, William D. (Bill) Stewart, whom she noticed

was actually better at diagnosis than most of the experienced physicians, but, also, she liked

the way he walked. Bill was the son of Scotch-Irish immigrants, whose father worked as a

chauffeur on one of the North Side mansions, (now a building that is part of Pittsburgh

Community College campus) where he and his brothers grew up in the carriage house. Mary

and Bill started dating, and were married in 1946, in the minister’s study at First Presbyterian

Church.

As soon as he completed his medical training, Bill was drafted into the Army, and was

stationed at an army hospital in El Paso, Texas; Mary accompanied him there. Both recalled

those years nostalgically, living away from Western PA for the only time in their lives, and

becoming lifelong friends with young people from all over the country. Their oldest daughter,

Patricia, was born in Texas.

After his discharge, Mary and Bill returned to Pittsburgh. Bill completed his residency training,

worked at St. Margaret’s hospital, and then Mercy Hospital, where he spent most of his career,

becoming Chief of Staff and eventually being named to the Board of Directors. Mary stayed

home with the couple’s four children, one of whom was severely disabled. The family lived in

Allison Park for twenty-five years.

After their children left home, Mary and Bill moved back into the city and lived in Shadyside for

over twenty years. Mary worked as a docent at Carnegie Museum, they traveled, attended the

symphony, socialized with dear friends, and celebrated 50 years of being married, and very

much in love. Mary and Bill were one of those lucky couples who were also best friends.

Mary was a gourmet cook— her daughters joked about the “wall of Gourmets” in their

basement— her collection of Gourmet magazines dating back to the 1960s, organized into

binders with indexes, and taking up an entire wall of shelves. She was also one of the original

“local ingredient” chefs, always finding the one family farm still nestled somewhere in their

developing suburb, where she would befriend the farmer, and purchase wonderful, fresh

produce for her family, at a time when most Americans saw frozen or canned vegetables as

more “advanced.”

At Carnegie Museum, Mary was happy to be surrounded by art and natural history. She loved

old movies, often out movie trivia-ing her film professor son-in-law, and was, most of all, an

adventurous reader of contemporary literature. In her waning years, when she no longer had

the focus to read a novel, she would read, and often recite, poetry, some of which she

remembered from her school days. She frequently quoted these lines from “Thanatopsis,” by

William Cullen Bryant:

So live, that when thy summons comes to join

The innumerable caravan, that moves

To that mysterious realm, where each shall take

His chamber in the silent halls of death,

Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,

Scourged to his dungeon, but sustained and soothed

By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,

Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch

About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.

Mary was much loved, and her graciousness, kindness and mischievous humor were treasured

by many, including her aide and friend of recent years, Laura Muldrow of Philadelphia, and, of

course, by her family: daughter, Patricia Stewart (Edward R. Sargent), and grandson Samuel

Stewart Sargent of Philadelphia, and daughter Constance Stewart (M. George Stevenson) and

grandson Frederick Dalzell Stevenson of Hastings-on-Hudson, New York. She was

predeceased by her loving husband, William Dalzell Stewart, daughter, Rebecca A. Stewart,

(Michael E. Murphy) of Cambridge, Massachusetts, and son, William D. Stewart Jr., of

Pittsburgh. Mary Stewart will be much missed, but we are privileged to have spent time in her

presence, and to have shared in her remarkable life, which surpassed a century. Mary was

happy to vote against Donald Trump, whose crassness and callousness were anathema to her,

and whose ineptitude in handling the pandemic made her last months at times lonely,

frightening and confusing. As a western Pennsylvanian, Mary had been a life-long Republican,

but left the party to support President Barack Obama, whom she felt more represented the

values she grew up with, and that she and Bill pursued in their life together. She never returned

to the Republican Party.

In lieu of flowers, please make donations to the Pittsburgh Community Food Bank, or to

Pittsburgh Mercy Intellectual Disabilities Services. Memorial services will be held at the First

Presbyterian Church of Pittsburgh early next year, when people can gather more safely.