Today Eileen Smith buried her husband of 60 years, Don Smith. Don grew up in South Dakota. After high school Don joined the service. He fought in World War II. After the war he met and married Eileen in Colorado. It must have been 1951. They were hardly ever apart. They moved back to Eileen's home town in Wyoming.
We had the pleasure of being his neighbor, across the alley, for over 10 years. A couple times a day Don would walk his dog around the neighborhood as he would patrol the region and get some exercise. He liked to chat.
He would chat with my husband, in the alley, several times a day where they would both analyze and solve the problems of the world. My husband also liked to chat.
A few years ago I got a guys names in our office in the Secret Santa game. The guy liked old cars. My husband suggested that HE go out to Don's Salvage and get a couple of old hubcaps off of the old cars out there for one of the presents. It took him all day. I don't know what they talked about but it took them all day to talk about it and look for thoes hubcaps. I think they enjoyed it much more than the guy that got the hubcaps as a present.
Don's Salvage yard was out on South Flat. When he wasn't patrolling our neighborhood he was taking care of the folks out on South Flat. One by one as folks aged and were moved to the nursing home Don would go visit them day after day. Somethings stayed the same.
When we first moved by him he had rabbits that kept escaping. The rabbits would dig there way out of the back yard. The grass was greener over on our side. He would come and find them and put them back where they go day after day. They were just pets. They started out to be food but ended up being pets.
Don had a unique raspy gravely voice. He would yell across the alley to me (he would be in his garden and I would be in mine), "Do you need any rhubarb?
"No" I yelled back.
Then, "Well if you change your mind come and get some."
Then Eileen would yell at Don out the back door of their house, "DON!"
The gravely voice returned the answer, "WHAT!"
Eileen, "GET IN HERE!"
He would go in. They were madly in love with each other.
One day I got a call. The raspy gravely voice on the other end said, "Two of yor boys are on the roof of the garage - fighting. It looks like someone is going to get hurt.
"OK. Thanks", I said.
We hung up.
When Don was well he drove he and Eileen everywhere in an old red pickup. In the winter he always wore a stocking cap. In the summer he always wore a hardhat. Yes - in the back yard, riding in the truck, on his walks - a hardhat. A white hardhat. In the summer it was a hardhat and in the winter the stocking cap and sometimes the stocking cap under the hardhat.
The last couple of years he took a notion to let his hair and his beard grow out. He didn't trim it or touch it so it got pretty long. He let it go wild. It was all snowy white now, wiry and out of control. He told me one day, with a twinkle in his eye, that he was letting it grow cause it made him look scary and drove people crazy. Then he chuckled. Seemed like it gave him a little power and pleasure like when a teenager has long hair that the parents keep nagging them to cut.
Before my very own husband passed away he said to me one day, "You know - people don't just sit around and talk anymore."
I said, "That's true - except for you and Don Smith."
Have a good ole chat with someone over a very long cup of coffee then tip your cup to Don. He will be missed.
