When I think back to my early life, there are special things I remember about my gran-pap Gordon Smith (April 26, 1896–March 19, 1963). The following are a few that stand out:
He always wore a long sleeved shirt and suspenders.
He would always take one slice of bread at meals, and he would break off one corner before eating and when he had finished his food, he would take that scrap of bread and wipe his plate clean. The plate looked as if it had never been used.
After he went to stay with my mom, he would sit in her rocking chair, that he had made for her, beside the stove and play Solitaire for hours.
Gran-pap slept on one of the two cots that were in his living room where the heating stove was.
When we visited after dark, he would take the lantern and go to the cellar for apples and cider.
I have written much about the Smith side of the family and much of it was about my grandmother, who I never knew, and gran-pap has been mentioned, but not really recognized for the man he was.
William Gordon Smith was born on April 26, 1896, and died on March 19, 1963. I was 22 years old when he died and in that short amount of time, I saw the kind of person he was.
Gran-pap lived and worked on the small farm that his parents owned along with some surrounding government land. I believe he lived his entire life in the same house where he was born except for the short time he lived with my mom before his death.
The family had a few sheep, a couple of milk cows, and a team of horses. Mom often talked about how mean the horses were. There’s that thing about farm horses being mean. I have written similar encounters about my own early life, and horses. I have no love for horses to this day.
By the time I was born there was only one horse, Old Gin. Gin was used to plow the gardens and in the making of the hay.
Gran-pap would raise tobacco and that is the only time I ever saw tobacco. He would cut it, tie it into bunches and hang it up to dry. I suppose he would sell it as the only thing I ever saw him use was snuff.
He also raised broiler chickens in two small houses that were in the lot behind the house.
There were a lot of apple trees in the lot and one in the yard, so there were also bee hives to take care of.
Gran-pap would work wherever he could find work and that left gran-ma Lula to carry the load at home.
He was one of those who manned the fire tower on Reddish Knob. I visited that tower several times in my early life and the view to the west of Shenandoah Mountain is spectacular.
I have no idea how help was alerted should there be a fire break out. There was no South Fork Fire Company, only men with picks and shovels working on that steep mountain. Gran-pap’s only way to travel was walking and he made many trips up and down that steep mountain!
The changes to his life after the birth of the last two children and the death of his wife were truly heart wrenching. There were 12 children to feed and clothe with only the oldest girls to help him. With the help of his parents, especially his mother, he raised all 12 children to adulthood.
My gran-pap Smith was a humble, soft-spoken, kind, loving, and hard-working man. He was much like his father, Martin. I never once saw him angry or say an unkind word to anyone.
Did he ever need to yell and be firm? I’m sure he did, but I never saw that. If he didn’t need to get firm with his own 12 children, he certainly could have with his grandchildren running through the house and into everything, and we were. There was never a harsh word to any of us.
I cherish the place I hold in gran-pap Gordon’s family line. My mom, Sheba, was his second born child. I was his second born grandchild, and my late daughter was his second born great-grandchild. How often does this happen in such a large family?
Most of his children called him dad, but the twins called him daddy—aunt Cleo still says dad and aunt Wanda says daddy. To the grandchildren who were lucky enough to have known him, it was gran-pap, granddad, or gran-daddy, and we still refer to him this way.
I believe that I have now given gran-pap Gordon Smith the honor that he so richly deserved and quite possibly seldom ever got. I loved my gran-pap Smith, and I know that he loved each member of his family. The determination to raise and provide for his children as a single parent in my eyes speaks to the kind of man that Gordon Smith was.
There was a second person who started on this journey with my gran-pap Gordon on February 18, 1917, and I will meet her when the time is right. That person is gran-ma Lula Smith (Dec. 8, 1896–April 12, 1937).
Violet R. Eye
August 21, 2025
