The above image, Place I Belong, was created by artist Laura Orfanelli as part of the 2020-2021 Souls Shot Portrait Project exhibition.
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You could never stay mad at Donte Smith. He would simply lift up his pant legs and flash a pair of mismatched theme socks decorated with dogs, Doritos or hamburgers.
“He was so fun and perky and upbeat,” said Cherie Curtis, Donte’s aunt (by choice, not by blood). “The holidays weren’t complete until he finally showed the hell up.”
A landscaper and roofer who worked with family and friends, Donte had a wide social network and everyone knew him by a different nickname. He was “Billy,” “Symir,” “Don” and “Munchie,” the last one because he was a chubby kid who used to stuff his cheeks with mashed potatoes.
His given name, Felix, never stuck. Born in Norristown, Donte was named after his father but he didn’t have much use for his first name or for the man who left when he was 2 years old and took his beloved fish tank.
After his dad disappeared, Donte, the middle child, was the glue that held together his mother and two brothers, Xavier and Landon.
“His mom always said, ‘Your only job is to be your brother’s keeper,’” remembered Donte’s fiancée, Jaleen Curtis.
Jaleen, who is Cherie’s niece, met Donte in 2010 the day after she got her braces off to celebrate her 16th birthday. Introduced by a mutual friend, she was drawn to the self-assured 19-year-old— a recent high school graduate transplanted from Raleigh, North Carolina — smoking on the Oreland train tracks and rapping about teenage angst.
Soon, Donte was walking her home and the two would spend hours talking outside Jaleen’s house before her mom would yell for her to come inside.
“He was my first real love,” Jaleen said. “He showed me what it was and how I was supposed to be treated.”
The pair was inseparable. Jaleen was more reserved while Donte was the first to spin on the dance floor, his braids flying, or croon lyrics from his favorite rapper, Kevin Gates. The couple often had dates at the Willow Grove Walmart at midnight.
In 2011, Donte’s mother, Dannette Cherry, died of a heart attack after a long battle with lupus. A tenacious single parent, she taught her sons the merits of hard work, honesty and old-fashioned respect.
Donte was a “fixer and a healer and a problem-solver,” said Cherie, whom he affectionately called “Miss Bleach” because she’s a “germaphobe.”
Donte’s holiday gifts to her always included bleach and paint brushes.
“He was the one you called when your car broke down or if you had a mouse in your house,” Cherie remembered. “His loyalty to the family was indescribable. There was no end.”
Donte regularly drove from the couple’s home in Ogontz to Lansdale to take out the trash for Jaleen’s mother and play video games and swap secret handshakes with Jaleen’s younger siblings, Kyle and Ryan.
He took Jaleen’s sister, Taylor, to the father-daughter dance because her biological father was incarcerated. He joined Cherie’s daughter, Malayna, for gymnastics practice, joking that “it’s not worth the Wheaties box.”
On Jan. 24, 2013, Jaleen gave birth to the couple’s first child, Sylas, who was stillborn. She had the date tattooed on her right arm.
Six years later to the day, on Jan. 24, 2019, Donte and his friend were killed in a car at 68th Avenue and Old York Road when a man in the backseat unleashed a hail of bullets, striking Donte six times and his friend 19 times. The gunman fled. No arrests have been made.
Donte died two days after the birth of his second daughter, Suraya, and four days before he was supposed to start a new warehouse job to support his family. He and Jaleen have another daughter, Skylah-Kree, who is 3 years old and occasionally uses a yellow phone to try to contact her dad and brother.
She also enjoys wearing mismatched princess socks — Elsa and Ariel.
Her father was the “sucker” in the relationship, Jaleen recalled, painting Skylah’s fingernails and toenails in the colors of the rainbow and learning how to braid her hair in an intricate crisscross “#dadgoals.”
Jaleen and Donte had planned to get married — Donte proposed with a poem at his son’s wake seven years ago — but they wanted to wait until they had the resources to throw an unforgettable wedding, Jaleen said. On her back, she has a tattoo of Simba and Nala in tribute to their enduring
love and Donte’s favorite Disney movie, “The Lion King.”
The last time she spoke to Donte before he headed out the door, Jaleen congratulated him: “Babe, we did it again.”
“Being a father was his biggest accomplishment,” Jaleen said, noting that Donte grew visibly angry whenever someone dismissed him as a “statistic.”
“He was a genius without the education,” said Cherie. “He just loved so endlessly and easily.”
“This was just not how Donte was supposed to go.”
A reward of up to $20,000 if available to anyone that comes forward with information that leads to the arrest and conviction of the person responsible for Donte’s murder. Anonymous tips can be submitted by calling the Citizens Crime Commission at 215-546-TIPS.
