Another story from the Cookbook Project

THE FIRST THANKSGIVING
AND OUR WEDDING
(by Lurah Smith)

 We have celebrated our Thanksgivings with many friends and relatives beginning with our first in 1958, less than a week after we married and our guest was Mrs. Miller, my former landlady who had helped arrange our wedding and was our only witness.  She was very sweet to come since she had grown children in the area and was invited to their homes but she chose to help us celebrate our first holiday together.

Speaking of our wedding, perhaps I should relate the circumstances so that all of you will know about that.  We met on the 11th of September in 1958 and almost immediately knew that it was special. 

I learned of the existence of the three children, living in New York with his mother,  on the 23rd of September when Susan was three days old.  Smitty told me that he and Mitzi weren’t happy and that they planned to divorce, they had just been waiting on Susan’s birth.  His wife, Mitzi, wanted to return to Japan, and because of the customs at that time in Japan, she agreed to his keeping the kids.  

My family was very upset by our decision with a few exceptions (Linda, Cinda, and Ann) so we could not plan on a wedding in the church I had grown up in. 

We started talking to ministers in Huntsville and were turned down by several.  One because his elders would not permit him to perform a marriage when one of the couple had been divorced; another, because he said there were so many things against our marriage that he was sure it wouldn’t last; but finally, a retired Methodist minister named Dr. Christian asked the right question, “Do you love each other more than you love yourselves?”  When we both answered “Yes”, he said “Then with God’s help, I am sure that your marriage will be long and happy.”  He was so right.

We discussed being married in the chapel of the First Methodist Church but Mrs. Miller suggested that we be married in her living room which is what we did.  Her home is one of the antebellum houses near downtown Huntsville (it was build in 1821).  Her living room was furnished with authentic antiques and some reproductions.  She added fresh flowers and we were married in front of the beautiful original white marble fireplace that was the house’s showpiece on November 21, 1958. 

We were both strapped for cash so I wore Smitty’s favorite dress, a dark blue sheath (which according to the style of the day, looked as though it was sprayed on me) and he wore his Army dress uniform.  It was a lovely Indian Summer day.  The sky was so very blue it almost hurt your eyes and the trees were still showing their autumn colors. 

We had rented and furnished our first home and went there for our wedding night where Smitty carried me over the threshold of our new home.  Also, that evening, I introduced him to rare steaks and you all know how that has worked out.

On Sunday, we went to Stevenson and told my family.  Mother told Smitty, “I didn’t want you but I will try to love you.”  She kept her word and finally did love him.

Another story from the Cookbook Project

 THE GREAT SNIPE HUNT (By Lurah Smith)

In many ways, Smitty was like a kid whenever we had the chance to just relax and let go.  Camping was one of the best times for him, and he helped explore different woods and streams and mountains with the kids over the years.  These were some of the best times of our lives.

On one of our camping trips, probably Labor Day weekend of 1974, we went with several Canadian families who were friends to one of our favorite campgrounds, Millersylvania State Park.  During the day, one of the fathers (probably Smitty!) mentioned snipe hunting.  From the reaction of the children, we quickly realized most of them had ever been on such a hunt.

After the dads told them there were lots of snipes in the woods, the kids started begging to go on a snipe hunt.  Smitty and all the other dads were as excited as the children by the hunt.  Corkey and Michael knew what it was so they were enlisted to help the adults.   

They spent all afternoon building up the excitement and suspense.  Other families in the campground heard and their children begged to go.  Naturally, the dads said, “fine, the more the merrier” so their fathers joined in the planning. 

They gave each kid a bag (a pillowcase, laundry bag, plastic trash bag, or even, in some cases, a big paper bag) and told them they would have to catch the little critters in their bags and bring them back to the campsite to open them  They warned that they must be very careful as they could scratch you in the face if they got out too early.

Corkey and Michael had gone out and gathered some appropriate size rocks before dark, so when it was just past dusk, the hunting party gathered.  When this whole contingent of dads and kids trooped out, they must have had 20 kids or more. 

They went to an area just off the main trail in low bushes and started a hew and cry to chase the snipes toward each kid who were holding their sacks carefully, as instructed, near the ground with face averted so the snipe couldn’t scratch out their eyes.  As the dads ran past the kids, they threw a rock in each bag. 

Then with the snipes carefully held in the bags, the dads and big boys would jar the bags with big sticks giving the impression that there was something alive in the bags.  When they got back to the camp, the kids were each given a big stick and told to beat the snipes before they were let out.  You never saw such energetic beating in your life.

 Then when they dumped the snipes out and saw what they were, they started to beat their dads,  who were laughing so hard that they couldn’t protect themselves and the mothers had to step in to keep them safe.

 A lot of kids had stories to tell about what they did during their summer vacation.

The "evolution" of the 1,000 light tree ... as written in the Cookbook project

Christmas with Smitty  by Lurah Smith

 A month after we married in 1958, we went to New York to get the children and celebrate Christmas.  I was appalled to learn that Smitty’s family did not make a big thing of Christmas as my family always had. 

It was nice enough but didn’t have the big holiday rush I was accustomed to in preparation for Santa and all the other magical things about that time of year.  Corkey was 5 years old and had never left cookies for Santa before.  I vowed to introduce my new family to my type of Christmas the very next year.

 Smitty was as enchanted as the kids were by all the hustle and bustle.  He quickly became a most enthusiastic Christmas provider except for one small detail – he simply could not keep a secret.  He would give so many hints that it is a wonder anyone ever was surprised on Christmas morning.  The only way he ever surprised me was to go shopping on Christmas Eve.  Later, he got better at it but it was just another part of our own Christmas magic.

 We always had the biggest and brightest tree we could afford (that would fit in our living room).  As the kids grew up, they started counting the lights on the tree each year.  Eventually, they reached 1000 and were finally satisfied.  

At that time, we were living in our house on Woodlake Drive and our sunken living room had a 10-foot ceiling.  Naturally, our trees were so tall we had to cut some off the bottom to set them up.  The star almost touched the ceiling.

There were so many ornaments on the trees that we would joke that, should there have been a fire, it would have just fused together for a permanent glass tree.