WORDS FOR SMOKEY’S PASSING (Sonny Brewer)
WE are here this morning to pay our last respects
to James E. Smokey Davis Jr.
I’m Sonny Brewer, and I’m grateful for the chance to say a few words about my friend Smokey, though I know there will be No End to our words of respect for this man.
I’m an easy talker, but this might not be easy.
Smokey was a Big Man, so let me go ahead and get this said about men:
Men are allowed to give hugs. Smokey’s arms were mighty big.
Men are allowed to tell other men they love them. The words rolled easy off Smokey’s tongue.
And men are allowed to cry. If a big, strong man like Smokey could, then I’m allowed to cry. And so are you.
Way back in the days of Scott Paper Company, when I first started writing the mill stories, my pal Kyle told me he had a friend in the Woods Division who was a real renaissance man: a timber man at home with big ideas, an artist who did sumi-e Japanese ink paintings, a reader who could quote poems and whole paragraphs of Emerson and Thoreau, a marvelous cook, a hunter and outdoorsman, a conservationist, but most importantly, a gentle and generous soul touched by true wisdom. I said I wanted to meet that man. He introduced me to Smokey Davis.
You’ve heard people say you can look at life as a glass half empty, or a glass half full. Smokey’s glass was full to the top.
“How you doin’, Smoke? Truly the best day yet, he’d say.
Every time, he’d say that.
I know each of you who knew him has your own treasured memories of Smokey. One among you shared with the family the story of a remarkable dream Smokey told of, How his departed wife Noel had come to him in a dream just days ago, inviting him to come and go with her.
But Smokey couldn’t find his shoes.
I’ve got lots of my own stories, but not enough time for everything. So, since I’m a writer,
I’ll talk about one of Smokey’s great pleasures:
He loved to have his name appear in books.
(I might add that he was also a dedicated patron of the writing arts, and was publisher of one of the best books ever written locally, THE PAINS OF APRIL, by Frank Turner Hollon.)
It was big fun to put Smokey’s name in my books.
In one, I thanked Smokey for believing in the book, and for reading the first draft and pointing out errors.
In another, I wrote in a character named Smokey Davis. I had some fun and made him a rowdy fellow who liked a scrap now and again. Said, “Where there’s Smokey, there’s fire.”
Gave him lines of dialogue and all that.
In another, I wrote myself a cousin named Smokey Davis who knew all there was to know about why a good dog might run away. I put in a whole scene of the lunch Smokey and I had at Hennessy’s, where Smokey told me all the stuff I used in the book. But the editors took it all out except for one paragraph. Folks in New York don’t know about Beans about a Dog Man like Smokey.
My new book is dedicated to Smokey Davis. Interestingly, it’s about a champion live oak.
The writer Frank Turner Hollon called me a few days ago. “Sonny,” he said, “Smokey called me. We talked a while, and he told me how much it meant to him that I’d acknowledged him in my books. I told him I had a new book out and he said, yeah, but he wasn’t included in that one. I told him that his name was in there, too… Sonny, Smokey told me he loved me.”
Yes, he did.
But, it wasn’t about the Books.
Every time I got together with Smokey, every time we spoke on the phone, we parted company with Smokey saying to me,
“I love you, Sonny Man.”
“I love you, too, Smoke.”
I do believe that God is Love.
It ain’t rocket science whose Team Smokey was on.
And, No, not only in books. SMOKEY DAVIS is also a name Forever written on the pages of our Hearts. In our memories and stories of Smokey. Especially those of his children:
Jud said, “What I will remember most about Dad is him telling me so many times in my life ‘You are my son.’”
Ashlye said, “The best thing about My Daddy was that he was FUNNY! Like the time I was home from college at Christmas and we were delivering Christmas gifts to his clients who all lived out in the woods. As we passed by a hand-painted sign that read, ‘Free kittens to a good home’ he said, “What if we picked up those kittens, but bows on their necks and delivered them to people as Christmas gifts?” We laughed so hard running through scenarios we invented about things we would say as we presented these kittens to his unsuspecting clients, and we laughed even harder as we tried to predict what people would do or say. Daddy always made me laugh.
Jed said, “Every time I saw him, every time I was with him, every time I talked to him, I learned something. How can any of us put into words the way we felt about our Dad and the impact that he had and will always have on our lives? I will miss his hooty-hoo call that we would hear whenever he felt we were lost.”
Ladd said, “I will always remember ‘Big Smoke’ for his constant and unconditional encouragement. He often quoted and repeated ‘This is my son, with whom I am well pleased.’ I never left his presence without him saying ‘Son, remember these times-these are truly great ones.’ We knew he put our family before anything.”
And, Radcliff said, “There was never a time that I saw my father that he did not tell me ‘Son, I love you so much it makes my heart hurt.’ And every Sunday no matter what I would get a phone call with the familiar phrase ‘I just had to call and check on my chicks.’”
Later, I need to ask the kids about a line in the obituary in the paper. And if you didn’t see it, find a copy and read it.
We’d all like to have such words written about us.
The line I wonder about is the one where Smokey was president and founder of the Mauvilla Surf Club. Is that a typo? If not, I need to know more.
The family wants you to share your stories, too, or pictures, or the one-liners you’ve heard Smokey say. You’re invited to go to www.smokeydavis.com. Directions for you will be there on the website. And please check back as words and memories are added. Especially watch there for Ashlye’s story of a miraculous rainbow.
I’ll leave you with a couple more things.
One, these favorite lines from Emerson:
"To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and to endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded."
Every one of Smokey’s kids knows Smokey did ALL of these things, many times over.
He didn't leave just one healthy child he left FIVE!
He didn't leave a garden patch, he planted Forests all over the Southeast.
He didn't just earn the affection of his children; he earned absolute ADORATION from them.
Not only did HE laugh often and much--nearly everyday he made OTHERS belly laugh with tears streaming from their eyes.
Intelligent people didn't just Respect him; they sought his Advice.
AND FINALLY, My dog Cormac likes to lay beside my desk, where I sit writing, barefoot most of the time.
When I get up from my chair he moves.
And in a step or two, my foot finds the warm place
where he’d been keeping watch over me.
Sometimes I’ll stop there for a second, just to be aware,
you know.
When we go out of here, Slow Down now and then, just Ease around a minute. You might find a spot where your spirit feels a warm tingling. That will be Smokey.
Lighter than air.
Bigger than the sky.
Smokey Davis, the name of Love in a world that needs it.
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