My father, Spencer Wood Morten, Jr., age 94, died on Thursday, May 11, 2017 in Martinsville Memorial Hospital. He was born on October 24, 1922 in Saint Louis, Missouri to Spencer Wood and Josephine (Audraine) Morten and was the older of two sons. He was married to my mother, Mary Elizabeth Bassett, on June 11, 1949 in Bassett, Virginia. He was the father to four, grandfather to nine, and great-grandfather to two (so far).
Dad’s family, friends, and co-workers knew him to be generous, genial, and genuine. He treated his children and grandchildren to a world of fun and wonderment: his paramount legacy to them will be countless surprise and delight memories. His friends knew him to be inquisitive and a font of information. In a single day, he would listen raptly to his mechanic “buddy” about the carburetor on his truck, and later amuse a dinner party audience with a detailed recommendation about restaurants in Florence, Italy. His employees knew him to be 100% genuine. He was open and honest in conversation, and clear with his decisions. Above all, he trusted his co-workers to manage the business, and tolerated their honest mistakes. In return, his employees’ affection for him was genuine.
Dad will also be remembered for his treasured affiliations. Anyone who has watched the video Morten The Medic knows how great a role his World War II military service played in his life. His anecdotal history of the war was required listening for the family. He was proud of the bronze star he won for risking his life to save others, but his life-changing moment came at night during the Battle of the Bulge, when answered prayers compelled him to deepen his commitment to his Christian faith. It was a rarity that he ever missed a Sunday service again. The post-war GI Bill allowed him to attend Washington and Lee University in Virginia. Until the end, he remained a devoted alumnus of the university and proud member of the Phi Kappa Psi fraternity. It was W&L’s school of journalism that dispatched him to the Martinsville Bulletin, where he was employed when he met my mother and started our family.
In 1951, he began a 50-year career at Bassett Mirror Company, where he was a visionary entrepreneur that transformed a small family business into a national brand for decorative furniture and accessories. Within the home furnishings industry, he was one of the first CEOs to introduce global sourcing, and his world travels – often accompanied by my mother – left him with a lifelong love of English tailoring and Italian dining. He sat on many corporate boards, but he was perhaps proudest of his service on numerous Baptist-affiliated boards in Virginia. After his retirement from Bassett Mirror, he was an active member of two congregations: Pocahontas Bassett Baptist Church in Virginia, and Christ Memorial Chapel in Hobe Sound, Florida.
He was a collegial man of the highest order, and club memberships were important to him. He was a Mason and Kiwanian, and member of the Society of the Cincinnati and Chevaliers Du Tastevin. He was also an active member of the Bassett and Chatmoss Country Clubs in Virginia, and the Jupiter Island and Hobe Sound Yacht Clubs in Florida. Moreover, he could be found almost every weekday morning at 10:00, having coffee with other World War II veterans in either Virginia or Florida.
Dad is survived by a beloved wife, Mary Elizabeth; four children, Sarah Fisher, Bill, Spencer and Greg; nine grandchildren; one great-granddaughter; and many nieces, nephews, and cousins. It is just so unfair the circle of life ends in such a pitiful state: a son’s hero clinging to life, refusing to acknowledge the inevitable. Still, a merciful God took a good Christian quickly, while allowing a wife and children to arrive from afar in time to see a living loved one. Now that it is over, it is time to celebrate his incredible life and legacy.
Nobody – and I mean not one person – was his equal while traveling. He went “top cabin” and planned our day around incredible wine cellars and kitchens. It came as a huge shock as an adult to learn what such indulgences really cost. He was a relaxed parental tour guide. Whenever one erred, there was the Smart Boy advisory. Whatever one skipped, there was the all the more for the rest of us acknowledgement. The fun dad was great, but the mentor father was awesome. He met my youthful problems without moralizing, but always with a here-to-help attitude. He later believed 100% in my leadership ability and was generous with accolades. His professional support never wavered, and his personal love was profound and without conditions. He was the very definition of a good father.