David Jean Smith, a.k.a., Tiny was a man of integrity, loyalty, honor, & valor. He played football in high school & didn’t like it because he didn’t like getting hurt or hurting others. The concept alone made him physically ill. His enlightenment scared his peers & his teachers, so he was bullied, harassed, & shamed all the time. He didn’t like injustices but couldn’t speak out, especially when he was the recipient. He was devoted to his god, his country, humanity, & he was a steward of the earth--one look at his fur kids makes it obvious.
When we were children, I found a dead baby blue bird under the weeping willow. I got snapped at to “put that filthy thing down; it’ll make you sick (I think parental units are far too melodramatic more often than not).” This particular parental was oblivious to the fact that I had lived on a ranch in Oklahoma where I inspected all of the critters, dead or alive, & never once got sick from it. I got ticks, horsefly bites, & a few bruises & bumps, but never did I get sick. While I was washing up, thinking what a waste of time it was to clean up that which was going right back into the task, David went outside. He found a nest with a live baby in it & reported back to me. We hatched a plan that when our dad left for work early in the morning that we’d check on the baby. We found the baby & both parents huddled together, so we went back to bed. We had to be certain that the baby was okay.
David’s heart was like mine, but his ability to confront anyone (authority, siblings, life partner) was lacking. This pacifistic way of thinking was greatly influenced by his mother. She is always reciting the mantra, “peace at all cost.” I strive for this in my own life, but I have been drawing the line at the cost of my own soul & the souls of others for a long time. David was actually able to achieve this, & I admired & envied him for it.
On several occasions when I was grounded to my room, David gave me reprieve. After the family went to bed one night, David knocked on my door, “Hey, Tracey, wanna listen to some books with me?” We did this almost every night for a week. My favorite was when he’d play “Walt Disney Presents Peter and the Wolf.” We started acting it out & making the sound effects. Occasionally, he’d convince his sister to let me have my turn watching television, but he’d save their asses by setting rules. I could only listen to the shows from my room (I became adept at recognizing celebrity voices), & I had to swear to NEVER tell our parents. I was also skilled at keeping some secrets, particularly concerning my own freedoms & privileges.
I am definitely not saying that David was perfect. Come on, now. He was a human being. I was taunting him one afternoon, & when he couldn’t hold it in any longer he threw a fork at me. I mocked him again, & he grabbed another fork & stabbed at my hand. If I had jerk away a smidgen slower I’d have ended up with stitches. Instead, he left a good sized dent in the oak dining table that my daughter owns to this day. I promptly ratted him out. I am also not saying that I was a golden child, either; I was/still am miles from that title.
When I was nine, I remember Dave’s “friends” clothes-lining him while they were riding their bikes in the neighborhood. When David went to make a jump, two of the boys held up a rope at throat level. I’ll let the reader’s imagination take over here as it still makes me sad. At 12 years old he didn’t even know that they were being mean to him, & he was defending their behavior to his mother. He still wanted to go & hang out with those sadistic jerks, & she was telling him that she couldn’t let him go out there knowing that he’d be deliberately hurt again. On this occasion I sided with his mother. She was so right. Inside, I plotted my revenge on those boys. If I’d have had the means, I’d have set a trap for those boys & let them starve or rot. . . I digress.
David also managed to get me in trouble when he didn’t want said trouble. He made a hot dog that he couldn’t finish, so he put onions on it & flushed it down the toilet. I got the punishment for that! As adults, Dave asked me to forgive him, & my only response was that we were kids. We both did things to each other that weren’t ethical, but we forgave each other. He was a good man & a good brother.
Family meetings were an interrogation. During one of said meetings, all three of us siblings were asked if we stole $5, & we all said “No, it wasn’t me.” Although the feel of the room was that it was me, eventually the truth came out that Dave did it & had purchased a something (I think it was a flashlight, but I cannot be certain). David got punished instead of me. I felt relief & a sense of justice, but I also felt every single blow from that belt.
I will not go into detail about mistreatments from our parents as they have both asked to be forgiven. To forgive is not to forget, but forgiveness does mean absolution. They were not perfect, but neither were we as children. Both David & I, on separate occasions, have also asked our parents to forgive us. I don’t believe in victim-perpetrator mentalities (except in the occasion of stranger encounters & those of very small children/babies); I believe that we all play different roles depending on where we are in life; sometimes you’re the prince/ss, the queen/king, the dragon, the slayer, or the person riding atop the dragon. Dysfunction cannot exist without all the players, after all.
I’ve never been in need of David’s help, but I know he’d have been there if I’d asked. However, I was fortunate enough to be in a position to help him from time to time, & he was grateful but also a bit proud. Like me, David would rather do for others than have them do for him. We were neighbors for a short period of time as adults, & I grew accustomed to him coming over for dinner, helping with the baby, & playing with my eldest daughter. My Daryl Emily would sleep on Dave’s chest while he & my eldest, Jackie Eileen, played video games. David is the reason I was able to take an occasional nap & was the reason I was able complete Super Mario World!
His family, his friends, his club brothers & sisters, & I have lost a wonderful soul. The world has gone a bit dimmer. Ride in Paradise (RIP), big brother! MLLH&R -- Much Love, Loyalty, Honor, & Respect. You were a beacon for me during some rough times, & I will always love you. Forever! I’ll see you in Paradise.
January 26, 1967 -- Eternity
