Joan Pitcher Feeny

Joan Pitcher Feeny died on Friday, September 20 at 3:50pm. For many years, she claimed she was in her thirties. Her family was astonished to learn she was 68. Born May 14, 1956, Joanie put beauty into the world. She was a collector, artist, gardener, and mother of four children she claimed had “perfect” genetics. She had eclectic, but very good, taste: Pyrex bowls in every color, copper baking molds hung on exposed brick, door frames lined with vintage Pez dispensers. She painted her floors in power-clashing patterns. She knew good design, the rulebook be damned. She maintained half a dozen gardens on the quarter-acre lot in Mt. Airy where she lived for four decades: a rock garden with hostas, another lush with ferns and five-foot lilies, a third with black-eyed Susans, bee balm, and butterfly bushes. She made art: hand-painted wooden napkin dispensers cut by her husband of 42 years, Peter; elegant ceramic signs; and original scherenschnitte patterns. She also did many of her children’s school projects, particularly if the due date was “tomorrow.” 

Joanie attended Cardinal Dougherty High School for three years, before transferring to and graduating from W.B. Saul in Roxborough. She excelled in school, whether learning Shakespeare or milking cows. She completed coursework in Computer Science at Philadelphia College of Textiles, now Thomas Jefferson University. Her life’s work was her four children: Amelia, Rory, Beau, and Jackson. Her mother, Joan Franceline Ward, died when she was eight, and her father was not up to the task of parenting. Her grandfather, Tom Ward, secured a large house in Chestnut Hill and adopted Joanie and her five siblings from foster care. She was a friend to, and protector of, children. Joanie never missed a back-to-school night, volunteered in the art room for years at Green Woods Charter School, and was a frequent presence at other events: gymnastics, track, and cross country meets, violin recitals, baseball and volleyball games. A rheumatoid arthritis diagnosis 20 years ago eventually robbed Joanie of the use of her fingers, ankles, and hands. She used a cane, a walker, a wheelchair, and finally, a hospital bed, where she persisted for nearly four years through sheer force of will, cracking jokes until the very end. She read the Inquirer every day, front to back. She loved puzzles, including the crossword, which she solved in pen. Occasionally, she’d clip out a completed Cryptoquote she found poignant. One of her final keepsakes was this Voltaire: “the longer we dwell on our misfortunes, the greater is their power to harm us.” Joanie is survived by her husband, Peter, her four children, four of her five siblings, and countless friends and extended family. A celebration of life will be held in the spring of 2025. Her ashes will be spread in her favorite places, and in places she had yet to go.