Ken Smith...
The fiction teacher at my undergraduate school, UTC, died last night.
While I never took his classes (I feared the commitment of long prose until very recently, and have never really been a short story person), he was a good good friend to me. A wonderful man. A mentor to many.
Not every college has teachers like Ken. He studied animal husbandry, and dropped out of school to join the Navy. He used to make stew from hunted meat--varmints you've probably never eaten. He used to sneak a bottle of bourbon into snooty wine parties and then drink it on the sly. I swear I've seen him do it at restaurants too. He smelled like smoke and he hugged HARD.
He was a serious writer, but he was wholly uninterested in trends. He read books he liked and he wrote books he liked and he tried to help kids understand what made books special. He also tried to help kids understand that they were special. In a place where that wasn't always easy to do.
He was a shoulder to lean on.
He was what people mean when they say "salt of the earth" Both the people who know what the phrase means (the light of the world) and the ones who think they know, but are kind of wrong (authentic, real folks, hard-working, unpretentious). Ken was all of that. And more.
In a few weeks I'll be in Chattanooga, for the Meacham Conference, and it will be very very sad. Can't quite imagine it.
In the meantime, for those few of you who knew him, and might visit this blog but have little contact with UTC these days, you can send a card if you want, care of Verbie Prevost, at the old address:
English Department
203 Holt Hall
Dept. 2703
615 McCallie Avenue
Chattanooga, TN 37403
Also, UTC is creating a student fiction prize in Ken's name, as a way to remember him. If you would like to help with that, you can make a check out to the UC Foundation, earmarked for the Ken Smith Fiction Prize, and send the check to:
UTC Development Office, Dept. 6806
615 McCallie Ave
Chattanooga, TN 37403
Finally, visitation will be Wednesday, October 10, from 5 p.m. to 9 p.m. and Thursday, October 11, from 8 a.m. to 9 p.m. and Friday, October 12, from 8 a.m. to 10:30 a.m. at Wilson funeral Home, 443 Boynton Drive, Ringgold, GA. And the funeral will be Friday at 11:30 a.m. in Patten Chapel with burial to follow at National Cemetery.
Ken, you will be missed.
Love!
5 Comments:
Just found out. Fucking sucks.
I have too many thoughts and emotions going on in my life to adequately express the grief I have for Ken's Death. Death is never timely for those left behind, and life is never adequate for those who have to stay. I know that without him, I would never have been able to express the things that were going on in my life when I took his classes. Without him I would have never had the testicular fortitude to even still dream that one day, maybe, I could get published. I took three classes from Ken: 2 Fiction classes and one Technical Writing class. They have helped me in my life more often that I even realize. I used to serve Ken Bourbon at Durty Nelly's when I worked there; he told me the literary term (that I have forgotten now) for calling someone by what their drinking, He was "Bourbon & Coke," and there was always little coke. He taught me about "educated ice." I could go on. But saddest of all, but a beautiful gift, is that his death has gotten me back in touch with you, Laurel Snyder. I've missed you, and think of you often. There are people I have met that know you from "back in the day" that didn't know I knew you. Look me up. I'm older and fatter but still a pretty fun guy when the mood strikes.
Peace.
malcolm!
please backchannel? sweetlorelei@msn dot com
love to see you !
hey girl, i'm so sorry to hear this news. thinking of you and the other chatanooga folk.
Thanks, Laurel. Ken was more wonderful than anyone knows; *I* know, because I lived with him 17 years, which was not nearly long enough. (And Malcolm, Ken really enjoyed you--but his drink of choice, until he quit drinking entirely, was bourbon and *soda*, as in club soda.) He quit smoking 6 years ago, recently gave up caffeine, salt, fat...may have been clean living that did him in, after all. I'm trying to be grateful for what little time I had with him, but wow, what I'd give for another couple of years. Thanks to you all for your kind sentiments. ~~ Madalyn
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