William T. Smith, RIP

William T. Smith, my uncle, was quite simply the funniest man in the world. That may be a bit of hyperbole, but to me he was the funniest man I ever knew.

Funnier than Bill Cosby, Jerry Seinfeld, Eddie Murphy, George Carlin, or maybe even Laurel and Hardy, although Uncle Bill would take exception to that because he thought they were the funniest men in the world.

I've never been a laugh-out-loud person. Uncle Bill could make me laugh out loud. He could have made you laugh out loud, even though most of you will have to take my word on that.

He was a prankster, a kidder, but he was a master joke teller and he had a million of them.

Uncle Bill would do anything, with some wide limits, for a laugh. I shared with my cousin Cynthia today (Cynthia is the oldest of Uncle Bill and Aunt Mona's three daughters) the story of a trip up Angeles Crest Highway in Los Angeles for a picnic at Mt. Waterman.

The two families met up at a prearranged place and my Uncle Bill stepped out of his station wagon wearing a plaid, short-sleeved shirt, stripped Bermuda shorts, mismatched socks and mismatched tennis shoes. He topped off the outrageous ensemble with the most ridiculous Panama hat you have ever seen.

It was hilarious and Uncle Bill had no inhibitions about showing up in public like that.
Tell him you thought he had beautiful teeth and he would pop out his perfect dentures and try to hand them to you.

He had a laugh that came from the bottom of the well of his spirit and tumbled out his mouth and could infect a whole room.

As a kid, I often stayed with my Uncle Bill and Aunt Mona (she passed a number of years ago) in their Los Angeles home. My parents lived in a garage apartment behind their house on Camaro Avenue. Those were some of my earliest, and favorite, memories.

He told a joke about "a beautiful suit" that simply reduced everyone to pieces when he told it. I tried to tell the joke and it fell flat. My Uncle had facial expressions and mannerisms that lit up any joke he told.

But Uncle Bill was not just a funny man. He was a kind and loving person, who cared deeply for his family and friends and let them know it. He was also a veteran of World War II.

When I went out to California last January I wanted to see Uncle Bill, but he discouraged the visit. "Better to remember me how I was," was his answer. He was sick and not up to visitors. While I was disappointed at the time, I think I get it now. He wanted me to remember the good times, the great jokes and the warm memories of love that he showed to me in those early years.
The last time I saw Uncle Bill (who early in his career was a beat reporter with one of the many Los Angeles dailies in the 1940s) he was visiting me here in Michigan during the late 1980s. He and I visited the Henry Ford Museum and Greenfield Village. On the way back to the Detroit Airport I took him to Ann Arbor to see the hospital where he was born.

Unfortunately the hospital had been razed and he was disappointed to see it was not the same as he last saw it some years ago. So maybe it was with his feelings about me visiting him. It wouldn't have been the same.

Sometime Thursday night, my cousin Cynthia is going to slip his favorite sword into his casket so it will be with him always.

The world is just a little bit more serious today, but I'll bet they are yucking it up in heaven. After all, they just took in the best joke teller of all time. At least in my humble opinion.

Rest in Peace, Uncle Bill, I'm going to have myself a really good laugh.

Love, Jim