If there’s a higher power in the universe, it might be represented by those positive forces capable of uniting us. Music perfectly fits the bill. And so too does Pete Scilla, who sadly passed on Valentine’s Day this year at the ripe young age of 74. If his status as a constructive influence wasn’t apparent already, it was certainly made clear to anyone—performer or observer—who attended a memorial tribute and fundraiser event in North East, Maryland on April 26. There, over a dozen featured acts gathered to honor one of their own. Pete’s impact was further magnified one week later, when family, friends, and five more bands came together for a similar happening at Wrightsville, Pennsylvania’s Burning Bridge Tavern.
What did both weekends and everyone present have in common? A real love for those two inextricable forces—Pete Scilla and music. A devoted family man and caring soul possessed of an unquenchable passion for spreading joy through performance, Pete lived his life with kindness, a personal integrity that’s all too rare, and a roll-up-your-sleeves attitude to take care of the business at hand, whatever that may be. For decades it was the day-to-day work of an office job, supporting himself and those he loved most. But bookending his career, it was music, always.
Having picked up the saxophone in his youth and studied diligently for years, Pete eventually formed a wedding/event band called The Satins with his younger brother Ron. He honed his tenor chops, putting the Selmer Mark VI that he purchased to very good use. But as time would tell him, it was life’s needs before reeds. Pete settled down in 1974, put his horn in the case for four decades, and lived a nine-to-five. But his saxophone, of course, was never really silenced. It was simply on an extended set break.
Once Pete retired and moved to Central Pennsylvania in 2015, he started rebuilding his sound and technique, quickly making up for lost time. And in what would turn out to be the last years of his life, he hit bars, restaurants and festival stages like a man possessed. With a horn always in hand (or car), he became a ubiquitous presence on the surrounding scenes. There wasn’t a jam session or band within 50 miles that didn’t come to know and welcome Pete. His calendar was beyond full—he would sit in, serve as a featured guest, or hold court as a core band member in some type of performance nearly every night of the week. And his wife Merrilee was often there in the audience, quietly knitting while Pete did some stitching of his own, in sonic fashion.
As Pete’s circle of collaborators expanded, so too did his need to cast a wider instrumental net. The devoted tenorist added soprano, alto and bari to his arsenal. And “Saxy Pete” became an omnipresent, multi-horn wielding celebrity in and around his home turf, riffing on R&B tunes, blowing the blues, enhancing pop gems, rocking the rafters, adding tropical tinges to the atmosphere, and starting a conga line or two in the process. But despite spreading himself across so many different scenarios, there was never a sense he was spread too thin. Everyone who worked with Pete had the same deep and abiding love for the man and how he fully invested himself in their music and lives. Whether speaking with him, sharing a car ride, figuring out logistics or entertaining audiences large and small, every musician always felt like they were at the top of his priority list as peers and people. Giving undivided attention and truly caring was one of his simplest yet most profound gifts. And it’s a legacy that he leaves behind.
Bearing witness to what took place at the Burning Bridge Tavern on that first Sunday in May amplified that understanding. Something of a full circle moment, the concert was organized by Aly Reason, leader of top-tier cover band The Roomates (which often included Pete). Her first encounter with him was nearby, at another venue in Wrightsville, and the first gig they officially played together was at Burning Bridge. Grateful for the scope of Pete’s sound and the “air of calmness” he carried into every room, Reason has a real bond with Merrilee, too—a fellow “spitfire,” as the bandleader points out with a laugh—so she felt compelled to spearhead this memorial concert and fundraiser. Having taken part in a Roomates-related podcast with Pete shortly before his passing, Reason referred back to the video to see which bands he cited performing with in the Lancaster area and knew of some others. And once she contacted those acts, it was always an immediate “yes” from the other side of the phone.
After an opening prayer, The Nobles kicked off the show. Speaking from the stage before their first number, Zooey Noble took to the mic to make note of Pete’s spirit, generosity and encouragement toward young people involved with music. Her father/co-leader Bob Noble chimed in, offering a quick shoutout for Pete’s booking skills, too, highlighting a calculated and determined mindset that helped many a group in similar need. The Jeanette Stillman Band followed, with personnel noting that Pete was the type of committed person who, time permitting, probably would’ve played “all day, every day.” After her set, Stillman went further, lauding him as a “smiling presence” who always brought positivity into play through his talent(s). Those comments, taken together, were indicative of his ability to eat, sleep and breathe music.
Off-stage tributes to Pete were much the same, with musicians eagerly sharing a compliment or anecdote. Harmonica player/singer-storytelling Jim Phipps (a.k.a. Jimmy Blue), leader of the afternoon’s literal centerpiece act—Jimmy Blue and the Jilted Playboys—shared many a loving memory, hilarious tale and fond reminiscence. Fellow lapsed musicians turned returnees, the two artists had initially met at a Vanessa Collier show where Pete gave him a thorough education on the virtues of the saxophonist-vocalist-songwriter’s work. Blue chuckled thinking back on how “Horny Pete,” as he nicknamed him, cautiously danced around the idea of working with the group until he confirmed they could actually play. Then it was, “Ok, when’s our next gig!” Over time, Pete became a conduit to help introduce Jimmy Blue and the Jilted Playboys to wider circles and new venues. And the two men developed a deep rapport built on a shared sense of humor and mutual respect. “I knew we were on a different level when I got to meet Merrilee at a blues festival. It was family then. Yes, we would play together, and he would play with so many other people. But we also just spoke, called each other on the phone, and were fine talking about everything and nothing.”
Nick Ferraro—frontman for Nick Ferraro & The All-Stars, the outfit that closed the concert after mini-sets from all of the aforementioned acts plus a touching statement from Ron—noted serious admiration for Pete’s even-keel disposition. Thinking back on their first meeting at a gig in Middletown, he was also quick to praise Pete’s work ethic, team-player mentality and professionalism. As Ferraro came off stage, the proverbial curtain came down on the show. But it wasn’t the end. A jam session served as a coda for the event, extending on the theme of the day and Pete’s reach. In lieu of a wake, everyone in the room adopted and lived by the hashtag to #play4petessake. And so it will be moving forward. The charity Music for Everyone will continue to carry Pete Scilla’s memory and the message(s) his delivered through his efforts (https://musicforeveryone.org/petescillamemorialfund) Please consider donating to this worthy cause.
Dan Bilawsky, May 2026
[Author’s Note: I had the privilege of attending the May 3 concert as family. Uncle Pete—my wife’s father’s brother—brought love and joy to our entire family during his days on this earth. My only regret in the time we had with Uncle Pete is that my wife and I, and our two young sons, never had the opportunity to share a stage with him. In the next life, so it will be.]