Don “Oops” Smith
August 30,1938 – September 14, 2021
Don was born in Clanton, Alabama… in a different time and “not from around here” in north Alabama. Many times I was asked are you kin to “such and such Smith”… My reply to them is “Im a south Alabama Smith”. Clanton is actually middle Alabama and recognized by the rather large 3 dimensional depiction of a Peach to the right adjacent to interstate 65 as many head south towards the Gulf. His stories of poverty at a young age is something most of us will never endure and he made sure we were never without. The Great Depression forged his and many others determination at this time in history. For Christmas if he were to get some fruit and nuts it was a pretty special addition to his favored commodity (government) cheese. Thread spools and medicine bottles were pushed along in the dirt as imaginary toy cars and bulldozers. Losing his father Howard in a car wreck at the age of twelve, left his mother Lottie Mae with little to no choice, he was re-located to Stevenson, Al. where he would live with his Uncle Kyle.
I remember the stories of him at age 12-13 delivering papers with his motorcycle/bicycle hybrid. Don learned to work at a young age in his community. He was an outstanding football player for the Stevenson Panthers as well. Im sure he transcended a lot of his adversity onto that field.
He met our mother Susie Hall, they were married and moved to Bridgeport just a few miles to the north and east of Stevenson. He would establish this as his permanent residence moving forward. They moved from Partin Heights, to where I grew up off of County road 255. The Tornados of 2011 forced them to relocate in a nice home at the end of our driveway next to my residence. Dad was never the same after that Tornado, as it took most of his material possessions. Coming from nothing, it removed something within him that he never fully recovered from.
As a young man, he cleared right of ways and had various jobs. He retired from Dupont as a Flake operator that produced nylon for carpet at the age of 55 after 30 years there. We can all remember tip-toeing around as he worked swing shift trying not to wake him. He was the breadwinner and Mom was rearing us up like many will never have the opportunity to experience. Breakfast in the mornings, Prepared lunches, and fully cooked meals at supper, Worship service on Sunday and Wednesday. Even though Flake operator may have been his career option, his passion and true love was restoring, building, painting, and working on vintage cars. I can remember the old “milk barn” that he made into his working garage. The smell of Bondo, the sound of the old green air compressor, gasoline and greasy hands. 55,56,57 Chevy bel-air hard tops, 61-66 impalas, Bull-Taco motorcycles, the old chain-fall, car shows on the weekends, and his good friends. The memories of plundering old junk yards looking for select pieces to rebuild various cars, Russel Lee’s body shop were things he loved. Christmas Eve with his side of the family was greatly anticipated. We had such good times at Aunt Gene and Uncle Leos with Berry, Dianne, Jeff, Jason, and Leah; Taiwana, Walter, Keenan, and Gabe; Kylene, Christy and David.
A brief description of the friends and people around him were often defined with nick-names. If someone from his generation didn’t have one they probably weren’t very friendly. Dad was called “Oops. Tooter, Boo, Fuzzy, Russell and Dink were some of his closest friends, however there were many characters… Squirrel, Squirrely, Buddy Klutz, Cheese, Juicy, Bubba, Smitty, Cornbread, Bice, Bird-Dog, Conky, Punkin, Chinaman, Phantom, Hambone, Corky, Gut, and so on… He survived many of these. My dad didn’t show much emotion, nonetheless we could see the pain he felt every time he lost one of his good friends. I remember how hurt he was when his best friend Boo Walker passed. He still had his obituary in the drawer next to his bedside.
Outside of old cars, Dad always enjoyed Alabama football. I can remember hearing the games being played on the old radio in the milk barn while he was rebuilding an engine or tearing down a transmission. I was about 8 years old I think when dad took me to Legion Field in Birmingham. It was a cold clear blue Saturday in November. I remember getting off of I-59 onto Arkadelphia Blvd. I can still smell the ribs on the smokers and the folks waving towels to park in their yards. We entered the massive stadium, Climbed the spiraling ramp to to the top to find our seats. Our backs were against the metal on the top row somewhere about the 15 yard line. I can still feel the warmth of the sun radiating through the metal against my back….. Joey Jones catches a pass in the north end zone against Mississippi State… The last game we attended together was pretty special, Tanner harbin and his family were kind enough to share their “Zone” seats. Myself, Johnny Walker, Dad, and Rob Dalton were there for maybe five minutes and almost got kicked out because Johnny was rearranging furniture to prop his feet up while he ate shrimp. The complimentary ice cream took a hit that day…. Roll Tide!
Thanksgiving was always a fun time as it was the week before the Iron Bowl. Our family is mostly made up of Auburn fans, pharmacists, veterinarians, and their children, including my sister Amy. Dad, Bird-Dog Hall, and myself always stood our ground with the mighty Tide. This had Many people perplexed for my allegiance to Alabama football… Well me and my dad..had some good times watching the kings of college football. He didn’t like Auburn very much, but his dislike for Tennessee, ran deep. Some of our best memories were at Mrs. Anne and Johnny’s. Todd Kirk, David Walker, Jason Ragan, Heather, Rob, and many others would look forward to the Saturday spread of food and fellowship. I can still see him pulling up one of Johnnys fresh turnips, peeling it with that old pocket knife blade sharpened down to a sliver of metal. Not to mention the Muscadines we snacked on. Im not sure if he or Johnny enjoyed Alabama winning or watching Auburn and Tennesse losing the most. I will miss those days.
Amy, “his Daughter” and myself inherited our work ethic and ability to create with our hands. Amy is much more maligned with her mechanic abilities but I carry the “bondo” factor. He rebuilt beautiful old vehicles and I rebuild birds having reached the highest honor as World Champion in my profession. Amy is a successful designer of antique mirrors working with top architects in the south. His resiliency poured over into his children and even though it was tough for him to show, we know he was extremely proud of us as entrepreneurs.
Lastly, his surviving grandchildren Reese and Rhett were very special to him. The only pictures he carried with him were of them in his wallet. The rides to the river and around town with Poppy Don in the Tracker will hold dear in their hearts. His daughter in law Heather (my wife) unselfishly took him to many appointments and difficult procedures in his last months. They were trying times but she made them special for him, “even though he thought he might die from her driving”. Rhett carries Poppy Dons youthful athletic prowess, and Reese has his stubborn innate demeanor and resiliency.
Over the years we have had to watch many relatives and friends pass, the death of Nascar, and now Oops/Dad/Poppy Don. I hope that we all can glean from loss. We are all thankful that Dons suffering was ended peacefully as he rested. He had a great day on Monday September 13th. He looked good, felt better, joked around and made his last laps on the lawnmower cutting the pond dam and his yard. Don didn’t know it was his last day, none of us ever will.
Know what Christ wants for you. Be obedient to his will, and live a faithful life until death. Ecclesiastes 12: 13-14 Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God and keep his commandments: for this is the whole duty of man. For God shall bring every work into judgement, with every secret thing, whether it be good, or wether it be evil.
