Phillip Smith

THE ONES WHO LOVED AND REMEMBER YOU

> Martha Jane (Dowdy) Smith, mother; maiden name: Dowdy; born in Kingsville, South Carolina, U.S.A., 1911 or 12; year of death: 1993

> Philip Kangewode Smith, father; born in Sierra Leone in 1900, Africa; death: December 1964

> Hattie Ann Rawls, sister, born July 1945

> Frank Dowdy, half-brother; year of death: 1992

> Georgia Mae Dowdy Bratton, half-sister; year of death: 2010

> Ulysses Carter, half-brother; year of death: unknown

> Christina "Chrissy" Elva, niece, born March 1962

> Patricia "Patsy" Ann, niece, born March 1964

> Noelle Nicole Atorious, niece, born December 1966

> Alexandra "Ali" Dorian, niece, born March 1969

> Jerome Tracy, nephew, born August 1970

What can I say about my Uncle Junior (he carried his father's name). He was a man on a journey. The road was not paved, so he tripped alot. And although he was a broken man, he was one capable of loving and loving deeply.

Although it has been over 25 years since he left, the memory of him is still very vivid.

One memory is a time when we played a card game called Bloody Knuckles "Knucks." I would beg to play. Man oh man, did he used to tear my knuckles up! Some might see this as cruelty, but it really wasn't. It was his way of teaching me to be careful of what I asked for because I just might get it.

Another memory that comes to mind is him spreading out on livingroom floor with coloring book and crayons in hand, teaching my daughter how to color. I recall looking at them both, smiling to myself how fortunate we were to be loved by him.

Another memory is my sister outside brawling with a neighbor who had stolen something for her. Uncle Junior rushed out and intervened. That was something special about him; he was always in the right place at the right time.

Another is when he suggested that if I read anything, let it be a dictionary. He taught me that education was key to success, a fact that I credit him with teaching me.

He educated, protected, and loved me. He was a thoughtful man.

I believe he visited me once, after he left. I stood in my kitchen and felt his presence. I told my mom (his sister) about it; she suggested I talk to him. I did so, reassuring him that I could feel him around me and that I was happy. I guess it was enough because he never visited me again. I will always believe that he wanted one last private moment with me.

As God can grant wishes, my hope is to see you again some day. I love you Uncle Junior, and I always remember you with love and a smile.