by Doris Smith Liles

Our dad, James Edward Smith, had a nick name, "Stubby". He wasn't very tall, about 5 ft 8 in., he weighed around 180 lbs. In the summer time when working hard he weighed much less. But he was a big man, shirt collar size 17 in., broad shoulders, and big

arms, he was husky and strong. A kind man, firm tough and strict.

I thought he was greatest Dad ever-- Until he made me go find a stick, (sometimes he would send me back to find a bigger one) to give me a licking when I did something wrong, usually when I got into a fight or quarreled with someone. He wouldn't tolerate us kids doing that.

I know Dad loved and cared allot about his family. When ever we went home for a visit he would hug us so tight, kiss us and rub his whiskers on our face. That was the best welcome I ever had, it was one of the reasons I loved to go home.

Dad and Mother liked to dance, it was fun to watch them dance the Quadrille. They were a good-looking couple on the dance floor. Dad would first dance with Mother and then with all of us seven girls, oldest to youngest.

Dad would work hours and days hammering nails, repairing, and fixing-up the barn, coral, Grainery and fence, anything out side. But he wouldn't fix-up anything in the house, not even the kitchen screen door. Mother did that her self, maybe she was afraid Dad would fix the kitchen door like he did the barn door. One time he did fix the dining-room chairs with wire.

The big beautiful horse that Dad is riding was called Tuffy, and he lived up to his name, wild and tuff. I know of two people that ever rode him, Dad and Layton. I will always remember how exciting it was to watch Dad ride Tuff. Dad could really handle him. They were two of a kind.

Dad had a team of work horses named "Blue and Pet". I can still see them plowing in the fields. He also used Blue for riding. I think of all the animals we ever had they were the most special to Dad, and he gave them the best of care. When Blue got old, sick, and crippled, Ruby asked him why he didn't get rid of him, Dad said: no, I will never get rid of Blue because when I die and go to heaven I want a horse to ride and I know that is where Blue will go.

Dad was also known as - Uncle Jim Edd, Uncle Bart Smith called him "Jimmy", I always liked that name and I named my youngest son Jimmy after his Grandpa.

by his daughter Iris Smith Bushnell

My Father was the greatest. I have many fond memories of him. He was the father of eight daughters and two sons. We were raised in poor humble circumstances, but we were a very close and happy family.

Some of my first recollection's of him is that he was so proud of us. He thought we all could sing and step dance, (as he called it) and when company came, (which we had a lot of) he would make us perform for them. (that was his expression).

He would get up in the morning and build the fires to get the house warm, and mom would have breakfast ready and he would come to the stair door and call "Breakfast is ready". Just one call was all there was for we knew that meant rise and shine on the double. Then we knelt around that big table in the dinning room and had our morning prayer. That was the way the day started at our home.

He was a very strong healthy ambitious father. I can't remember my father being sick. I think this was do to the simple wholesome life he lived, the Word of Wisdom. I remember him calling me his hay tromper. He would pitch the hay on the wagon and I would tromp it down so that we could haul more on the wagon. We all had to work hard and help him. At that time we didn't like it so good, but it surly made better people of us.

He was the town Dentist. When ever anyone had a tooth ache, they would come to Uncle Jim Ed. to have it pulled. He would get out his forceps, sterilize them by putting them in boiling water, then he would pull out the tooth. He made it look like it was so easy to do. Here is where he exercised his great strength in those callused and rough hands.

He was also the village Blacksmith. He could fashion most anything with his Blacksmith Shop. Just give him the hammer and anvil, some scrap iron and a hot fire and he could make what ever was needed. He made a sleigh one time and when he was got through with it, it looked a lot like the sleigh Santa rides in. For several winters he carried the mail from Red Canyon to Tropic, Cannonville, and Henrieville with his team of horses and that little sleigh.

These are just a few of the fond memories of my dad Jim Ed. Smith. I don't think he ever asked for thanks or praises from us for all the things he did. I think he just wanted the best that life could bring and all that could make him happy. He was very firm but tender. We all loved and respected him. I am deeply grateful for my heritage.

by Alta Rae Smith McAllister Hansen

Half a Beef

On a cold December day, my mother Nellie Smith started into labor with her tenth child. My dad, Jim Ed. hooked up the horses to the sleigh and went to Tropic for Marian Riding. She was the Mid-wife. Dad and Marion Bybee got there about the same time. Marion needed her for his wife too. Mr. Bybee was a big man, but my dad won the argument and Mrs. Riding came home with him. I was born and dad was getting ready to take Mrs. Riding home. He asked her how much he owed her. She said! " just pay me with a half a beef". (Dad had just butchered a beef the day before.) That's how much I cost to come into this world. Dad got Mrs. Riding back to Tropic in time for the Bybee baby to be born. They named her Georgia.

The Hay Leaf

My dad, Jim Ed., worked very hard on the farm and with his stock. In the Summer he would come home so tiered. We spent a lot of time outside on the lawn visiting and cooling off. He would say "babe would you come and see if I got a hay leaf down the back of my shirt, and please scratch my back while you are at it". This happened everyday and I could never find the hay leaf. I was a big kid before I realized he was only saying that to get me to scratch his back. I would pay him back sometimes by pinching him until he would say ouch! Then I would tell him it was a big black head.

Curly Locks

Dad loved to have his head scratched. He would say he had dandruff. I used a fine tooth comb to scratch his head. He usually had a short nap after our noon meal. He would go into our front room and set in his rocking chair. This is when he would like his head scratched. One day after her had gone to sleep I curled his hair in a big long curler. (I was always curling his hair) Then I gave him a manicure including polish. I left him there and went some where, when I got back to take the curler out, Dad had gone to Uncle Bart's to visit. He usually looked in the mirror first but this day he didn't. Well when he got to Uncle Bart's store, I guess Uncle Bart let out one of his big loud laughs and said " Hell Jim Ed. you would let that damn kid do any thing to you." Dad came home so mad at him for laughing. Thank goodness he wasn't mad at me. This was after one time, I cut dad's hair and he had to go have Uncle Bart try to fix the hair cut.

There was a lot of love in our home. Dad and mother was wonderful parents. Dad was real strict and we knew we had to mind both he and mother. He was a good person and did a lot of good deeds for people and didn't need recognition. He always saw that Grandma had enough wood for all year. He would haul wood for the schools to pay for our schooling. He loved the boy scouts. He took good care of his wife Nellie and of his family. He was a loving husband and father.

ruby

by Ruby Smith Moore May 1994.

My father James Edward Smith, Jim Edd as he was called, was bishop when World War II started. All the eligible boys were inducted into the Army and those able to work moved for jobs in the Military plants. The very few left that was active in the ward had more than one job to take care of.

My father came one day and said "Ruby my Ward Clerk has been called into the Armed Service and I need you to fill that vacancy, Mrs. Rachel Thompson is the Ward Clerk in the Cannonville Ward and you can help me in that position in our Ward. I told him, I didn't think I could do the job, and he said 'I only have a fifth grade education, and I was put in as Bishop. When it came time for me to make the first reports out, I read and studied, but I just couldn't fill out those monthly reports. I put my hands over my face one night around one O'clock and actually cried. I said my prayers again and went to bed. I had a good rest, got up the next morning, ate my breakfast and went to my desk and filled out those reports without a bobble, and if you have faith you will be able to do this job".

He loved the young people and they loved and respected him. He made a good Bishop for the Henrieville Ward. He saw that the boys were advanced to the office of an Elder in the Priesthood when they went in the armed services and told them to live the best they could and to tell the people about our church every chance they got and that they would be blessed as a Missionary.

When he was released as Bishop after seven years he said, "I can see why a Missionary can say after they fill a mission, that it was the happiest two years of their lives, I can say the same of my seven years as a Bishop". I lived the best I could and that was the happiest years of my life.