Mark Ronald Smith

Mark Ronald Smith, just 60, passed away February 28, after a vigilant full-on battle against the lung cancer (I won’t tell you here what Mark called it) that pretty much ravaged his lungs. His dear parents, Phyllis and Harold Smith, of Mark’s hometown Carlisle, PA knew and loved their firstborn well. It’s probably fair to say that most who met and knew him had an easy, loving relationship with Mark. He brought his opinions and his “ways,” but he was fair and kind to a fault. His sisters Kristi Clark, Melinda Chance, Amy Baish, and brother, Matthew Smith – as well as layers of their husbands, wife, nieces, nephews, cousins, neighbors plus a whole host of friends, fellow-Hokies, and in-laws who happily claimed him for their own, all fought back with him. Each of them provided a great circle of love and support through his life, but importantly through his battle, as he carried all of his loved ones as the supporting troops behind his daily skirmishes. Warrior Mark.

His beloved children are too young to lose their father. Hunter, Henry (Hank), Allison (Pip) and Maggie have had the pleasure of having had a most-warm and generous dad. He was there for them in all ways – to answer questions, provide sound advice, and help them in any way he could. He loved them all so very much, and he will be missed and treasured always. Mark’s love was the quiet, solid kind. He always did the best he could. He worked hard, all the way to the end. He didn’t quit, he didn’t complain. He found his courage to face a horrifying, life-sucking disease with valor and might. And privacy. It was important to him to take care of himself, and he did this with such an amazing strength. Friends, amazing friends…the names go on and on of those in his posse - those who had his back, as he had theirs, helped to take care of Mark. The family appreciates everyone from so many different areas of his life who checked in, offered support, and were there to provide the friendship and comforting care of folks who simply love each other.

As his partner and friend for many years – I have had the pleasure of observing Mark as he moved through the different sections of his life, and had a window into his feelings and dreams when he would share them. I know that he enjoyed being a father, the quiet solitude of nature, and the delicious tastes of home cooking – namely his mother’s pig stomach – a specialty he brought to our family as well. Mark was an avid outdoorsman and felt at home in the open spaces of rooms outside the house. He prided himself on not owning a suit, and everyone knew that Mark was everyone’s “go to” on matters of hunting and fishing…as well as how to do many things, as Mark’s skills crossed over many lines. A reader, a seeker, a grower of plants, a collector of relics, Mark enjoyed learning, and shared what he knew generously. All anyone ever had to do was ask. Though it was entirely likely to receive some smart-alecky response in return, that was just part of Mark’s charm we came to know.

No words written for Mark would be complete without mention of the beach, the “farm,” Louisa and Redoubt Mountain, Alaska. These were his safe places – places where the sheer beauty of the planet transcended the spaces where day-to-day lives are lived. Mark found comfort in these places, and it cannot be doubted that these special waters and lands will miss Mark terribly.

He fought his fight, and will always be remembered as the man who gave all he had. He gave this all, to all of us for safekeeping in our hearts and memories. We will hold close, with precious care, the sweet memories that we all now have, because of him.