James Washington Smith was in Company K, VA 8th Cavalry as a Bugler. Company K was also called Big Sandy Rangers.
James Washington Washington Civil War
The Civil War was the darkest time in our history. Literally, brother against brother (which you will find in the Wheeler branch of Kentucky).
Over 620,000 Americans died in the Civil War, roughly equal to the number of soldiers killed in ALL other wars combined.
Over 400,00 soldiers were prisoners of war.
He was a Bugler in Company K, VA 8th Cavalry. Company K was also called Big Sandy Rangers. It was during his 9th battle that he was mortally wounded.
This is his story. Not glorified, just his story.
Dad in 1932, 2 years of age.
Donald Keith Smith Growing Up
I remember my dad telling me “I didn’t know we were poor growing up”. Dad was the youngest of four kids. A 5th child, a sister died at 2 years of age six years before dad was born.
Being the youngest, as Jimmy can attest to, involves a LOT getting picked on and run over when dinner time comes.
This is his story. My dad growing up!!!!
Dad circa 1948.
Donald Keith Smith Early Adult Life
I remember my dad telling me, “I didn’t know we were poor growing up.” Dad was the youngest of four kids. A 5th child, a sister, died at 2 years of age, six years before Dad was born.
Being the youngest, as Jimmy can attest, involves a LOT of getting picked on and run over when dinner time comes.
This is his story. My dad growing up!!!!
Kids in 1964. L-R Front: Dale, Jim, and Don L-R Back: Brian, Dave, and Mark
Smith Brothers circa 1964
Donald Keith Smith and Marie Magdalene Carol Cernik raised six brothers born over a 10 year period. They were busy little “Catholic Rabbits”.
The family started in Wahoo Nebraska, our mom’s birthplace, where they had Mark and David “Dave”. They then moved to Omaha Nebraska when our dad started a new and his final job, at IBM. There they had Brian, Don “Donnie”, Dale, and James “Jimmy”.
This is the story of their “Early Years”!!!!
Zachariah Smith Family Photo at Belle’s (WHEELER) 63rd Birthday, in 1927.
The Zachariah Smith line in America.
All of these Smiths are thought to have descended from George “Burntface” Smith. He is said to have come to America to serve as an indentured servant for William Byrd II in Virginia. And continues with me, 5 brothers, 22 grandchildren, 21 grandchildren, and counting.
Here is the story of some of those ancestors.
Our great-grandmother Kesiah “Belle” Smith (WHEELER).
Our great-grandmother Mary Ann Dixon (BARE) circa 1926.
Native American?
As kids, we were always told that we had some Native American ancestry in our family tree. “Your great-grandmother looked very Native American; she was a Sioux”. Other times, “We’re part Cherokee.”
Here’s that story!!!
Mark in Tahoe, 2009.
Mark Douglas Smith
Mark, being 7 1/2 years older than me, was always “the oldest” brother. He was quiet but never picked on anybody that I can remember. He spent a lot of time with his high school sweetheart Sue, whom he would eventually marry. He moved out right after high school to go to college, attending the University of Nebraska Omaha.
I do remember one time when my parents were gone, and they were in the master bedroom doing “couple stuff.” The younger brothers were in the bedroom next door, “spying” on them through a wall vent along the floor that went between the two bedrooms.
This is his story, the “firstborn.”
Dave in Cancun, 2011.
David Allen Smith
Dave was almost exactly six years older than me, with both of us being December babies. But he was also the one that seemed to be most like me when I was young. Or maybe it was that I wanted to be most like him. Especially since he saved my ass from those two hooligans on my kindergarten walk to school. He played football, and I wanted to play football too. I would get to see him play at Ryan High School. He played baseball and was a catcher. So, I wanted to be a catcher, too. It also meant that there were several used catcher’s mitts around the house that I could use.
But we were different too. He was more of a rebel. He smoked and partied in high school. Smoking just never “floated my boat.” But I still would never rat him out. I remember catching him smoking behind a cabin on one of our Minnesota vacations. I never said a thing, and he knew that. I wrestled, but he played basketball. That may have had something to do with him being a good 4”-5” taller than me. He really was my idol as a kid.
This is his story. The Navy guy!!!!
Brian, circa 2000.
Brian Lee Smith
Brian is one year older than me (Don). Brian didn’t play a lot of sports. He was into cars and working jobs to make money for his car. Brian loved his “Four Wheelers”. He fixed them up and was always working on them. He even built his own speakers for the back. Big honkers that put out a lot of sound. Brian and I probably fought the most growing up, though we ALL fought and threw shit at each other. I can’t tell you how many scars and broken bones we inflicted on each other. He had a temper, and I still have a small scar on my thumb where he stabbed me with a pencil, and the lead is still in it. Brian and I were very different types of people.
Looking back, I wish I hadn’t been as much of a dick as I was, and we had fought less. But now, as older brothers with families of our own, we are much closer, even if still very different.
As teenagers, we shared a green Chevy Nova before Brian bought his own car. That was often a source of friction as to who would get to drive it. I had a “minor” accident trying to slalom some trees, and a tree decided not to move out of the way. My dad was a tad pissed when I told him a truck must have hit me in the parking lot while I was at a movie. Then he found tree bark in the grill. Oops.
This is his story, a middle child!!!!
Me at my retirement party in 2014.
Donald “Donnie” Eugene Smith
Me, I’m just the family historian now. History has always fascinated me, and I wish I had interviewed more “family elders” when I was alive, and they still had their memories. Too much stuff gets lost, and family folklore often creeps in.
I did get a chance to interview Ray about his World War II experience. He never really talked about it until very late in his life at a Christmas Party at Brian’s house. I emailed him later and thanked him, but I was angry I didn’t take more notes. A few weeks later, he sent me a typed-up letter of 8-10 pages with his story.
You can read his story on the Cernik Stories page. It was also sent to the Library of Congress when they were requesting stories about “The Greatest Generation.”
My mom told us many stories about growing up and various family members. I finally buckled down and got a chance to dive deeper into my father’s life growing up with many discussions over his later years.
You can read about many of their stories on the Smith Stories and Cernik Stories pages.
This is MY story, the “other” middle child!!!!
Dale in 2019 at Ashley’s wedding.
Dale Robert Smith
Dale is one year younger than me. He and I did a lot of things together growing up. He was an instigator and still is. He LOVES pushing buttons. We had a lot of mutual friends and often hung out together with a large group of co-friends across two school grades. Of all of my brothers, he and I raised the most hell together. Lots of mischief. We even did some double dates and homecomings and proms together. He got the first job at Big Fred’s and helped me get my job there.
Dale played football in High School as was a bruiser on the field.
He joined the Air Force out of college and retired as a Lt. Colonel.
This is his story. The Air Force guy!!!!
Jimmy in 2017.
James “Jimmy” Edward Smith
Jim is the baby of the family (he hated being called that growing up) and 3 years younger than me. Growing up, I think the 3 of us closest in age to him often felt he was the spoiled baby of the family. In hindsight, it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t his fault that he was the last child to come of age, and my parents must have felt sadness at that.
He was a really good athlete and very smart (the Doctor of the family), and any parent would be thrilled. My mom habitually bragged about ALL of her children, and Jimmy gave her well-deserved ammo. Dale and I picked on him more than the others, and he would tattle on us, which is pretty normal.
This is his story, the baby “Doc” of the family!!!!