Marcel Toussaint passed away suddenly on Thursday, July 26, 2018. Those who had the pleasure of knowing him often commented admirably on his colorful life, rich in culture and heritage. Born Emil Stanley St. Pellicer on November 1, 1932 in Rabat, Morocco, his mother was Spanish Castilian and his father, French. While his parents were multi-linguists who routinely spoke six languages, he often lamented the fact that he was fluent in “only” three. His parents and two siblings, Odette and Josephine, preceded him in death.

He arrived in Saint Louis on July Fourth in the year of his 21st birthday. He would soon serve a stint in the U.S. Army and become a U.S. citizen. Shortening his name professionally to Stanley Pellicer, he began his career here as a dance instructor for Arthur Murray. An introduction to a French teacher at Villa Duschene led to him becoming “the next Jacob Mahler,” a Dancing Master and Teacher of Social Deportment for Saint Louis socialites. That led to his affiliation with the Westborough, Old Warson, Bellerive, Algonquin, Greenbriar, and Saint Louis Country Clubs, Junior League Tea Rooms in Frontenac, and at the Annunciata. He led the popular Fortnightlies and Saturday Morning Classes. He directed the Fleur de Lis Debutante Ball in the Khorassan Ballroom at the Chase. Eventually, he opened the Embassy Ballroom on Union and, much later, his own Conservatoire on Clayton Road. Later in his career, he became a Dueling Master after taking master classes in New York from Georgio Santelli, a former U.S. Olympics fencing coach, and earning the title of Maitre D’ Armes. He taught fencing at the Conservatoire, and at the local universities. Over twenty years, he enjoyed frequent press coverage in the Post-Dispatch, the former Globe-Democrat, and a couple of local and national magazines. He was a frequent invited guest on local television shows.

In the mid-70s, leaving his beloved Conservatoire and the Central West End behind, he and his wife and young daughters settled into suburban life in Chesterfield. More than a decade later, he would move to Wildwood, where he regularly began writing poetry under his professional name, Marcel Toussaint. Once again, he had transitioned back into the world of art. The next 25 years became a blur of writing, poetry clubs, private readings, contests, and publishing, including a novel—when he wasn’t teaching Spanish or French at various schools in Saint Louis or tutoring privately. Those of his friends, and there were many, who were lucky enough to have become the subjects of his keen observations leading to his signature profile poetry portraits, were special, indeed. He was an intensely private man, yet he never knew a stranger. Just a year ago, he moved into the Downtown Loft District to be closer to the VA and friends.

He leaves behind two daughters, Suzanne and Aimee Celine, various cousins, including Irene and Arnaud in France, and Odette, Adrian and Patty on the East Coast, the team of professionals at the VA who were there for him when he needed them, not to mention a host of great friends.

The following passage from the back cover of his autobiography sums up, if that is possible, his long, remarkable life: “His life has been scribbled on scraps of paper, envelopes, paper napkins—from the family seaside farm in Morocco, to his grandmother’s vineyards in Spain, to the cafes of Paris, to the rainy days in England, to the Army Barracks in Germany, to the charm of the Chesapeake, and to the social strata of Saint Louis where he has lived for much of his life. The poet never let the sun set without making a few notes for later transcription.”
Rest in peace, our dear friend.
Burial, private. A celebration of his life to follow at a later date.