Later Life
The loss of his reelection bid left Smith embittered. Additionally, his remaining financial resources were limited and Smith found himself in need of a job. To address these concerns Smith's friend, Epes Randolph, told him "Mark, you should go back to Washington and say to President Wilson, 'Mr. President, I've made a damn fool of myself over you a good many times—now you make a damn fool of yourself over me just once—give me some kind of a job'" Smith followed this advice and was appointed to the International Joint Commission on March 3, 1921, the last full day in office for both the Senator and President.
During his final years Smith lived in Washington's Occidental Hotel, taking occasional trips to Kentucky to visit his remaining family. In Washington he received only occasional visits from a niece living in Kentucky. The solitude bothered him as shown in a January 1924 note where he wrote "was surenuff lonesome and hungry to hear something of old friends." His health also began to decline as he developed arthritis in his left hip. Smith's outlook of this development was shown by his statement, "I can't walk a step without the crutches, and even that aid can't prevent suffering. The doctors call it arthritis—I call it hell, for that is what it really amounts to." With less than a dozen friends from his early days in Arizona, Smith longed to be with "my dogs and gun, my friends, my fishing rod, the trees and flowers and songs of birds and babbling brooks. Losing these paints the receding landscape in dull drab leaden colors in taking away the great attractions of life before demanding its surrender."
Smith died on April 7, 1924 of heart disease. His death was announced to the United States Senate by Henry F. Ashurst. Smith was buried in Cynthiana, Kentucky at the Battle Grove Cemetery. His tombstone epitaph, written by Smith himself, reads "Here lies a good man — a lover of fast horses, pretty women and good whiskey".
Read more about this topic: Marcus A. Smith
Famous quotes containing the word life:
“But the divinest poem, or the life of a great man, is the severest satire.... The greater the genius, the keener the edge of the satire.”
—Henry David Thoreau (18171862)
“Our life is an apprenticeship to the truth, that around every circle another can be drawn; that there is no end in nature, but every end is a beginning; that there is always another dawn risen on mid-noon, and under every deep a lower deep opens.”
—Ralph Waldo Emerson (18031882)