Mark Smutek

Mark Smutek quietly inspired those around him with his creativity, generosity, and deep commitment to community. He brought thoughtful intention to everything he did, and his impact will be felt in Kalamazoo for years to come. Mark lived collaboratively, generously, and with intention. And while words will never fully capture his magic, we will try.

Mark carried a calm strength. He was modestly confident, deeply gracious, and wise beyond his years. Though private and reserved, Mark held a beloved place in Kalamazoo’s public life. He had an unassuming presence, softened by dry, ironic humor and a contagious smile. His hugs were memorable. Mark never sought the spotlight but possessed a rare gift of shining it on others. He was decisive, but friends who knew him for decades say they never once heard him speak unkindly of anyone.

Mark’s love for life was boundless. He chased adventure with steady excitement—traveling through India, Vietnam, Europe, Ethiopia, and the Americas with friends, an appetite for new sensations, and an inquisitive mind. Whether hiking with his sister Deb, boating, or paddleboarding Michigan’s lakes and rivers—even in winter—Mark felt drawn to nature. He was fiercely independent and curious.

Mark was always up for the unexpected—a spontaneous concert, new music, a trip to the beach, or a shared culinary experience. A gifted athlete, Mark loved movement. He loved to play handball and was a formidable competitor in anything involving a racket—especially pickleball, racquetball, squash and badminton. Or, as Mark simply called them, “Sports.” Golf, on the other hand, was less about the score and more about the lost balls and laughs with friends. An esteemed pickleball partner described him as “the yin to my yang… a calming force… a tornado on the court.”

Cooking was Mark’s love language. Whether preparing an elaborate meal or morning chilaquiles, he brought people together —around tables and bonfires, for conversation and game nights with drinks - and always sent us home with packages of leftovers.

But above all, Mark excelled at friendship. He loved deeply and showed up fully—cheering at triathlons, making daily hospital visits, walking friends down aisles. He made us wear our seatbelts. He encouraged ideas and dreams, stood in when others could not, and gave his energy, skills, resources, and expertise time and time again. Mark listened—really listened. He asked thoughtful questions. He rarely spoke about himself, preferring to focus on others. He saw gifts in others they often couldn’t see in themselves, and helped them believe in those gifts too. He made us want to be our best.

Mark was a visionary who saw beauty and potential in the unfinished. Whether it was the grit of Detroit neighborhoods near his hometown of Dearborn, or the raw edges of downtown Kalamazoo, he felt called to preserve and transform. His brother Jim recalls helping Mark revive his canary-yellow 1987 Ford Fiesta with a junkyard rear axle and quarter panel they salvaged, then repainted. Mark brought the same eye and craftsmanship to his love of mechanical oddities—gauges, blueprints, fuse boxes—which became joy-filled experiences for others, and a signature of Water Street’s identity. Mark had the ability to dream big and make that dream a reality.

The story of Water Street Coffee Joint is the story of Mark’s spirit. While working at Heritage Company Architectural Salvage & Supply after college (WMU), he became captivated by a crumbling building situated on a triangle across the street. He convinced the owners to lease it to him, and spent a year of nights and weekends renovating the space himself, using what he humbly referred to as his “basic skills” —wiring, plumbing, building – to create something extraordinary. In February 1993, Water Street Coffee Joint opened at the corner of Kalamazoo Avenue and Water Street. It was a one-man shop—and it radiated Mark’s soul.

Before specialty coffee was a trend, Mark understood its power to bring people together. But it was the original small front counter, an awkward but intimate, buzzing space, that naturally forced strangers to meet and chat as they ordered their drinks. Every detail – the copper lighting, salvaged fixtures, and thoughtfully designed furniture—was an expression of care, ambiance, and wonder. His first shop at Kalamazoo Ave. and Water Street became a cultural landmark—part gallery, part café, part gathering place. And from that one spot, Mark built a 32-year legacy of hospitality, art, and community. Mark’s vision expanded into a roaster, a kitchen, wholesale partnerships, a team of over 100, and five more cafés with over a thousand visitors daily.

Mark’s reasons for building a business were nuanced—he built because he had to, like a painter compelled to paint. Mark described being “romanced by a project.” He created spaces that were beautiful, lasting, and alive with meaning. He loved coffee not just for the drink, but for the opportunity to create an experience around it. He infused his spaces with reverence—for moments, for people, for shared delight and presence. He held himself and others to high standards—sometimes impossibly high. But that ethic inspired greatness. We often asked ourselves, “What would Mark do?”

Mark’s generosity was legendary; he gave freely and without fanfare. He paid before anyone could reach their wallet. He arrived with food, flowers, gifts—so often we dared him to come empty-handed. Once, he showed up on a motorcycle carrying a watermelon to share. That was Mark.

There’s a Japanese phrase—“Ichigo Ichie,” which means “one encounter, one lifetime.” It signifies the unique nature of every encounter, encouraging us to cherish each moment, for nothing can be repeated in exactly the same way. Mark lived this. He found joy in collaboration; creating a vision together. Mark elevated artisans, and embedded their work in his cafés. He championed local businesses and entrepreneurs, finding inspiration—not competition—in their success. His fingerprints are all over Kalamazoo’s revitalization. Before his illness, Mark sent a powerful message to a friend: “I’m just happy to have a life I enjoy, and to wake up excited for whatever the day brings. Grateful.” Two years ago, Mark began to experience complications of Lewy Body Dementia. It slowly stole the vigor that shaped his life. But even as his world narrowed, he faced Life with courage, grace, and reflection. He lived on his terms—until the very end.

Mark leaves a legacy carved into Kalamazoo’s heart. Water Street Coffee became a defining space for his beloved town’s cultural life. He created jobs, mentored leaders, gave generously, and built beauty that endures. We wrote books there. We grew friendships. We forged our futures - all in his spaces. For those closest to him, the loss is immeasurable. But we are better for having known him. And his influence will echo for generations.

Years ago, Mark told his father, “If I die tomorrow, I’d be satisfied with my life.” May we all live so fully.

Mark is survived by his loving father, Jerome Smutek; his sister, Deb; his brother, Jim, and sister-in-law, Judy Wright, as well as a loving extended family of aunts, uncles and cousins. He was predeceased by his mother, Jan Smutek. Mark is further survived by a wide circle of colleagues, beloved friends and a community shaped by his generous, magical spirit.

Mark Smutek was one of a kind. He will be missed deeply and remembered always. Raise your cup in his honor—and to a life extraordinarily well-lived.

An afternoon to Celebrate Mark’s life will be held from 3-7 pm on Sunday June 22, 2025, at Bell’s Eccentric Café, 355 E Kalamazoo Ave. You may also celebrate Mark’s life online by sharing your favorite stories and photos on his dedicated webpage at BetzlerLifeStory.com.

In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to the Carl Rinne Lewy Body Dementia Support, Education and Awareness Fund – 325867 at the University of Michigan. Give online: https://victors.us/marksmutek Checks payable to “University of Michigan” may be sent to: 777 E. Eisenhower Pkwy., Suite 650 Ann Arbor, MI 48108 Please include “in memory of Mark Smutek” in the memo or an attached note. You may also call 734-764-6777 to make a gift.