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George said he was born in Tablerock, Nebraska 5/8/1883. According to a letter from cousin Mary Lathrop dated February 1970, Mary Irene Duey Smith died when he was born. We have been unable to locate the death certificate, but use the d eath date as remembered by George -12 Nov 1885 in Tablerock. Thus there is a discrepancy between these two versions as to the date of Mary's death.
His father died shortly thereafter leaving him and his brother David to be cared for by his unmarried aunt and uncle, Fannie and George.
Worked in the family brickyard for 25 cents/day. Ran away from his abusive uncle when he was 16
Construction foreman. Supervised construction at the Clairmont College campus, Shriner's Hospital, and other large projects. He was a member of the Masonic Order.
Buried in Inglewood Park Cemetery.
This is a picture of David Robert Smith (b. 1881) and his brother George Alfred Smith (b. 1883). Their mother, Mary Irene Duey died in Nebraska in 1885, and their father died in Illinois in 1888, so they were orphaned at the ages of 7 and 5. They were raised by their father’s brother and sister, Aunt Fannie and Uncle George. David had moved in with his father, Robert because he couldn't take care of his two sons by himself. Grandfather Robert Smith died in 1894. David, the father died in 1888. Thus the two boys were orphaned and left in the care of aunt Fannie and uncle George. George worked in his grandfather's brick yard for 25 cents a day as a hod carrier (he carried heavy loads of brick and mortar for workmen). According to the account of George Alfred, his Uncle was a very strict and unloving man. He said his uncle once whipped them for drinking rootbeer (then a “new”drink) on the Sabbath. The uncle was angry because the stuff had the word “beer” in it.
Finally George and his brother ran away. George was about 16 years old. They went to St. Louis, Cincinatti, Ames, Iowa,and Chicago while working as carpenters.
Eventually George became a General Construction Superintendent on many large building construction projects such as: the Mission Inn in Riverside, California, St. Vincent’s Church on Figueroa and Adams Boulevard in L.A., Scripps College buildings, Camp Roberts/Fort Ord in 1941, Shriner's Children’s Hospital on Wilshire Boulevard, and the Masonic Temple, also on Wilshire Boulevard. He was the General Superintendent for the George J. Twaits Co.
I , Karen, remember Grandpa Smith as a soft spoken and kind man who loved to pull out our loose teeth when we were kids. I remember mom and dad getting after him for calling black people “niggers”. I think this was because he was raised in times when that was what people called them...it was a word in common usage when he was growing up.
I vaguely remember that he liked to smoke cigars, but I guess grandma Smith put an end to that, for I actually never saw him smoke...only heard about it.
We children loved to come over to grandma and grandpa’s small apartment in Los Angeles and have Sunday dinner with them. We would always have roast, mashed potatoes and “grandpa’s salad”. We loved to watch him fix this salad which was lettuce chopped up and tossed with a homemade vinegar and oil dressing. We would eat every morsel.
Grandpa finally joined the church after much work by his children Bob and Paul.
I remember a funny, though poignant experience with grandpa shortly after he joined the church. He and grandma would come over for Sunday dinner. This particular Sunday, grandpa had consented to say the blessing on the food. He had never done this before, and we children were surprised that he would do it. Well, he said a nice prayer, and then he got to the end of the prayer, and there was a long pause. He didn’t know how to end. We sat there waiting and wanting to help, but not wanting to embarrass him. Finally he just said “Goodbye”. It was humorous as well as touching, and I remember this incident for that reason.
In 1957 he and grandma were sealed in the L.A. temple, and in June 1961 Bob and Paul were sealed there to their parents. He remained a faithful member of the church to the end of his life. When I was on my mission in France I one day found a picture of my grandparents working in the Bishop’s Storehouse. The picture was in a church publication telling about the church and its various programs. A copy of the picture is included in this history.
Grandpa eventually died of prostate cancer at age 81. I look forward to seeing him again. (Karen Smith Baxter)