On Valentine’s Day, I learned that my grandfather was really sick. My mom called me to go check on him because he had recently fallen in the house on a couple of occasions. I was concerned but thought nothing of it, because in my mind, Daddy, as I referred to him, was a soldier, and nothing could bring him down.
At the age of 17, in 1946, Daddy had tried to join the Navy. However, after being told that he could serve in the Navy but only as a steward’s mate, Samuel refused and decided to join the Army. He said he wanted to be a seaman, not clean up behind someone. So he joined the Army, where he was stationed in Japan and ultimately served valorously in the Korean war. After honorable discharge from the service, he went on to lead a life dedicated to family, God, and a career with the U.S. Postal Service. Never one to sit idle, he was also a dedicated hobbyist, creating decorative boxes, jewelry cases, lamps, and even a big free-standing cross made up entirely of popsicle sticks.
When I arrived that day in February to check on him, he sat on the edge of his bed, very quiet. I immediately knew that something was seriously wrong. I had never seen Daddy not in control of a situation. He was the rock of our family and the source of our strength. When the ambulance arrived to take him to the hospital, he still tried to dress himself and did not want us to assist him walking, even though his left side was completely paralyzed. The next day we learned that my grandfather had a brain tumor that needed to be removed as soon as possible. We would soon learn that my grandfather had known for over a year that he had lung cancer but refused to let any of us know likely to spare us the stress. Daddy made it through brain surgery and was joking with us in the hospital the very next day. Even to the end, when we knew that his condition was getting worse, he never complained. His body was giving out on him, but his spirit was unbreakable. It made sense that he had served in the military.
Daddy first recounted his experience in the Korean War to me when I interviewed him for my senior project in high school. I could tell that he was proud of his service because of the enthusiasm in his voice as he recounted his heroics. When I had the opportunity to go to Japan in college, he never stopped talking about the time he was stationed there.
In spite of the pride he felt, he also expressed bitterness towards what he perceived to be a lack of respect for blacks serving at that time. He also didn’t think that black veterans got enough recognition for their service. Because of these experiences he always stressed education and forbade any of his children or grandchildren from even considering joining the military. He said that the military was no place for blacks.
Daddy died September 3, 2010.
-Eugene Smith
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