Let us remember Marc with the happy memories he's forever left us.
  • 64 years old
  • Born on June 1, 1949 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, United States.
  • Passed away on May 10, 2014 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, United States.

This memorial website was created in memory of our dad, Marc Schmeltzer, 64, born on June 1, 1949 and passed away on May 10, 2014. We will remember him forever. - Eric and Jill

Posted by Edie Sherman on 10th May 2018
Marc, it is very close to Jill's wedding. I will carry you in my heart when I walk her down the aisle, so we can do this together. Please let your sun shine down on our beautiful daughter that day.
Posted by Edie Sherman on 10th May 2016
Marc, it is impossible to believe that you have been gone for two years.Our children are the beautiful legacy you leave. I think of you often and hope that somehow you know how wonderfully Eric and Jill are doing.
Posted by Edie Sherman on 23rd May 2014
Marc, I will always remember the moment in the hospital when you held my face in your hands and reminded me that I always said our marriage was destined to be because of the two amazing children we created.Then you said that "All was forgiven," and I told you that all was forgiven a long time ago. I hope you are in a beautiful place where you can continue to watch over your children. You left us all too soon.
Posted by Jill Schmeltzer on 14th May 2014
Dad...missing you very much. It pains me to feel this type of finality. Life already feels so different/empty without you. You would have been so happy yesterday to see all of the love & support of people from both your past & present years. You truly left a special impression on every person that ever was in your life. I am so proud to have had you as my Dad. I love you today & always.
Posted by Eric Schmeltzer on 14th May 2014
Some people asked for the eulogy I delivered for Dad at his memorial yesterday. Here it is for those who asked. Thank you all who were able to make it there. I know Dad would have smiled from ear-to-ear to see so many friends and family come together. EULOGY FOR MARC SCHMELTZER No one is perfect, and no one lives the perfect life, and my dad was no different. I know, one heck of a way to kick off a eulogy. If you asked, Dad would have said he had a few regrets in life. Namely, he never really built much of a career for himself. He never put together much of a savings, or even made enough money, at all. He had friends but never really felt that he had to jump from social event to social event. Maybe he would have been happier if he did. But, here’s the thing. When my grandfather, his dad, lay dying, he told my dad this: “I always loved you, but I never could be the father that you are. You never put anything above your kids. Business never comes before your kids. Money never comes before your kids. Your kids are always first, with you, and I’ve been envious of the kind of father you are.” My grandfather, Poppy, wasn’t a bad guy at all. In fact, with me, as a grandfather, I think he tried to make up for mistakes he made as a father. He just grew up in a different time, when men were chiefly concerned with financial wellbeing of the family, and left the sensitive stuff to the woman of the household. I loved Poppy with everything I had, and I still do. Until Dad’s illness and passing, I always planned on naming my first son after Poppy. But, Dad had a singular goal in life, and that was to be the kind of supportive father that his dad hadn’t been for him. And it is in that sense that I can say my dad achieved what he wanted to achieve in this world. I knew people in school who seemingly got a lot from their parents – a car, the most stylish clothes, and other material things. A lot of them were provided with huge, expensive homes, stocked with the latest technology and fun things. What so many of them didn’t get was the support of their parents, developmentally and emotionally. Material stuff was used in the place of real involvement and caring. My dad was there with me, and my sister, every step of the way of our development, being wholly and completely supportive and enthusiastic of our interests. He was always encouraging us, as we tried to find ourselves – even when that meant he couldn’t focus on himself and his own personal success. It’s for that reason that, unlike so many of our peers, Jill and I never went off into a “lost” phase, years of self-destruction that would have inhibited our true growth into adulthood. As Dad lay in the hospital, I wrote him a letter that recalled all of my memories with him, which were burned into my head. I could remember every single detail of those events, like they were yesterday. One story, I think, demonstrates perfectly the kind of father that my dad was. In my freshman year of high school, I got it into my head that I wanted to play football. Now, anyone who knows me knows that I have zero athletic skills. I think that was pretty evident from a young age. When I was a toddler, dad and I were playing a spirited game of “run and catch me.” I would run after him, he would move, and then I’d have to stop and run and try to catch him again. This went on and on until he moved while I was running, not recognizing there was a brick wall right behind him. I certainly recognized that brick wall, when I ran face first into it. According to my mom, as my face swelled and they took me to the hospital, they thought I’d be deformed for life. So, yeah, athletics was never really going to be my calling card. Back to High School, though. Dad took me to the Willow Grove Mall to find the same kind of black cleats that the Philadelphia Eagles were wearing at the time. He knew I’d never last in football, but he never said it. He encouraged me, and stood by me, knowing I’d find it out for myself. That was extremely important to me, letting me find my own way in the most awkward stage of any boy’s life. There wasn’t a pursuit in life I wanted to try that he didn’t become extremely passionate about. The same went for the kind of dad he was to my sister, Jill. I remember my cousin Scott became convinced that Jill was destined to be a pop star. Jill, above all, loved being on stage and loved singing. She idolized the pop stars of the time, and I think if you asked her, she would have told you, back then, that it was her dream to join their ranks. Maybe she still would say that. At any rate, Dad became deeply enthusiastic, taking Jill to recording sessions, and indulging Scott with all of his big plans. I would venture to guess that my dad knew this was a long-shot – some maybe would have even called it a waste of time. But, then, he happily wasted his time, because the encouragement meant so much to Jill. And don’t get me started about him taking Jill to appear on “Dance Party USA,” and exuberantly promoting Jill’s dance skills to all of the teens on the show. Later in his life, how did he spend his days? Watching the news, and browsing the web, calling me about happenings in politics, suggesting potential ads I could make to help my career, and linking me up with connections he had to people who knew people in the field. Or, calling Jill with potential business leads to help her make more in commission. His days were spent, literally, working for us. Trying to further us. And so, you see, so many of his own shortcomings in life were because his energies were focused on me and my sister – always standing by us, always encouraging us, and always being involved in our lives. I think, in many ways, his goal in life was to make sure that we went out into the world, as adults, on better footing than he did. My dad used to say that when he hit a triple in Little League baseball, his dad would go on about how he should have gotten a home run. Dad, when it comes to me and Jill, and being the kind of parent you wanted to be, the kind we needed, and sending us off into the world on solid footing, you hit that home run. Who we are, who we have and will become, and how we parent our kids based on your example, means that you’ll always live on, not just through us, but our kids, and their kids, and their kids. That’s the greatest mark of success that anyone could ever wish for on this earth. And you got there, Pop. For that, we will love you forever and ever.
Posted by Maria Mancini on 13th May 2014
Dear Jill and Eric, My heartfelt condolences on the loss of your dear Father. We were business colleagues about 20 years ago but also good friends. He was a kind man and committed to making a difference. We eventually lost touch and I was happy to reconnect with him just last year. From our recent conversation, it was clear how proud he was of both of you. I was further impressed by his humility and continued focus on the truly important matters in life. Just this past March, Marc told me how he had been the full-time caregiver to his Mom. Then when I learned the news a few days ago of his passing, I was quite surprised and very sad as I didn't even know that he was ill. Even during his illness and quiet passing, your Dad was dignified, in the same way he lived his life. My thoughts and prayers are with you. Maria Mancini
Posted by Jane Mason on 13th May 2014
I remember Marc best as a wonderful young dad. He was so caring, kind, thoughtful ,gentle and loving. He remained the same special dad for his entire life. Jill and Eric were so lucky to have had him for their dad and Mom Mom was so lucky to have had him for her son. Much love, Jane
Posted by Paul Schmeltzer on 13th May 2014
Eric and Jill, I am so sorry. I'll always remember Uncle Marc as being very kind and thoughtful. He called me shortly after I brought Evan home from the hospital to congratulate me and share some parenting tips; I'm sorry they didn't have the opportunity to meet. I won't be at the service today, but you and the family will be in my thoughts. Please give Grandma Roz a big hug for me. Paul
Posted by Eric Schmeltzer on 10th May 2014
Pop, you will forever mean the world to me. Your graciousness, warmth, affection, and support will live on through me, always. I love you forever.
Posted by Hope Schmeltzer on 10th May 2014
Eric and Jill, I'm so sorry for your loss. I'll always remember your dad's warm laugh and smile. Lots of love to you both.
Posted by Chad Levitt on 10th May 2014
I am devastated as I just heard this horrible news. Coach Marc, you were by far one of my biggest supporters, believers, and fans. You inspired me in little League baseball from a young age. I will never forget Draft day 1997 when you showed up at my parents house to celebrate with us. You predicted my signing with the Bears years before it happened. I am greatly upset to hear this sad news and my heart weighs heavily. Eric and Jill I am so sorry. Losing a father is such a tragic and horrible life event to experience. Especially a man this special who was taken from us at far too young an age. Thank you coach Marc for sharing great memories and experiences with me. I will miss you deeply.
Posted by Robert Goldberg on 10th May 2014
Dear Eric and Jill, I am deeply saddened for your loss. While it was a while since I spoke with him, I always enjoyed running into him in the old neighborhood. Our thoughts and prayers are with you and your family. Rob & Caren Goldberg
Posted by Madeline Sherman Schmidt on 10th May 2014
I remember as a kid, being so excited to go to the Schmeltzer's house. And a big part of that was getting to see Uncle Marc. He was so kind, so warm...I remember as a little girl he would always reach out, chat me up, and make a connection with me. He had the biggest smile, and a sense of energy about him that just made you want to be around him. He'd cheer us on and clap at our upteenth "talent show" or "music video" and make us feel so cool! We will miss Marc dearly, and are thankful of the fond memories we have and that we could call him Uncle. Love to you all.

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