Dr. Newton Smith memorialized

I  attended the memorial service of Dr. Newton Smith, the last person who looked like he would have Ph.D. behind his name, the man who was once a professor at Western Carolina University in Cullowhee, NC. The service was at St. David's Episcopal Church, and although we were not late after driving nearly two hours, the church was completely filled. We were told we could sit in the Parish Hall and watch on a TV screen. A fellow writer and member of NCWN-West, Carroll Taylor, author,  accompanied me. The hall was filled and we had some difficulty finding two seats together. Although I knew Newt and had met June, his wife of over fifty years, I did not know his children and grandchildren who took part in the service.

Dr. Newton Smith 1939 - 2018

Newt had a son, Zack,  and Courtney, a daughter, who gave the perfect eulogy for her father. She helped me see the older man I knew as a young father, playing with his baby girl, kissing her toes and smiling down at her. She told us that she knew she was the most special to him, but later she admitted he made everyone feel that way. His grandchildren read poems and Newt's own poems graced the front and back of the bulletin for the service. Newt was a person who had many talents and many interests. It seems to me that he lived life according to his own wishes and needs. He had beside him a lovely and talented helpmate in his wife, June.

Among the many people attending were faculty and students from Western who had their memories of the smiling man I saw on the screen. One young man, an engineer, said Newt was a mentor for him when he was a freshman in college.

Newt's  family was grieving, shedding tears as they heard the words said about this man who was so dear to them. As Newt would have wanted there was also plenty of laughter in the stories of life shared with him by his sister and his daughter.

He became treasurer for NCWN-West in 2009 when he was asked by Kathryn Stripling Byer, who was then program coordinator. Although we had several program coordinators over the past decade, Newt continued to take care of our money, pay our bills and report to NC Writers' Network each month. When he became ill from cancer a few years ago, I asked if he would like me to find someone to take over as treasurer, but he said no. "I like having something to do," he told me.

We held a one day writing conference in 2016 in Sylva, NC. Newt handled all the registrations and  fees paid. I was deeply appreciative of this because I had all I could handle already.

When, a few months later, Kathryn Byer passed away, Newt volunteered to help me again by emceeing the tribute program NCWN-West gave for her. It seemed he could handle whatever was on his plate and he did it with panache.

I am grateful that I knew Dr. Newton Smith and that he was a member of NCWN-West. We all will miss him and never forget him.

Saying Goodbye My Way

We didn’t have an old fashioned southern funeral with open casket, and visitation on the night before the service. We didn’t have everyone come to my house and neighbors bring tons of food. We didn’t do it that way here in Hayesville where I live and where Barry and I lived for some of the best years of our long married life.
We discussed our desires for the final ceremony of our lives and we both, after lots of thought, decided on cremation with a memorial service to be held at a later date. My memories of my mother’s funeral and Barry’s mother’s funeral were just too painful, and we didn’t want to have our loved one go through the traditional ritual.

“Make it as easy on yourself as you can,” Barry told me, “but be sure you don’t ever have me in an open casket where people come and gawk at me.”
At my mother’s visitation at the funeral home, I walked in weighed down with sorrow and there was the open casket with a body that did not look like my mother at all. Her hair was beautifully done, just as she always wore it because her hairdresser, who loved my sweet mother, asked to fix it.
I went over and touched Mother’s hand and drew back in horror. Her skin was cold and unreal. That did not feel like my mother. That did not look like my mother and I told myself that is not my mother. She is not here.
I could not talk to the visitors who came to offer condolence to the family. I could not stop crying. The visitation, a barbaric ritual, is torture for the family and undignified for the person who lies there unable to have a say in the whole thing.
Barry and I decided we would never put each other through this. Although that is the only thing I knew for sure that he wanted, I am so glad we chose cremation and I could wait until I recovered from my own exhaustion from round the clock care giving.

In that time, I could think about what kind of memorial Barry would want and had the time to plan, with wonderful singers and friends, two services in his honor, both filled with some of his favorite music, a constant theme throughout his life. These services were celebrations of the life he lived and the kind of man he was.Those who attended actually enjoyed the services and exclaimed over how perfect they were.
No person can be justly honored in one hour. We can’t explain all the generous things he did for me and others, all the ways he impacted lives of those who knew him, the achievements of his career. Barry was not defined by his work. That was only a small part of who he was.
The service held in Georgia was attended by my family and his family and close friends from his past. Jeff eulogized Barry, and his talk was so beautiful I’ll never forget his words. This friend met Barry after we moved to North Carolina. Barry, unknowingly, impacted Jeff's life in a wonderful way.
Roger, Don and Michelle, who spoke at the service in Hayesville, also met Barry after we moved to North Carolina. Richard, long-time friend of 29 years, spoke, and still the words were about the warmth, the humor, the loving manner and gentle nature of this man.
No one is perfect and Barry certainly wasn’t. But wouldn’t we all want to be remembered as “a man who made you feel good when he entered the room.” “He was fun to hang out with, just to be around him."
Our niece, Lori, sent me a quote. “People will forget what you say, and people will forget what you do, but people will never forget how you make them feel.”