Remembering Smith Robinson: Part One

From Gaye LeBaron's Notebook (Jan. 1995):

Once upon a time there was 

a most remarkable man

The video is black and white and a little jumpy,

made from a brittle 16mm film. The audio is

scratchy. Crew-cut Bob Warren's commercials

for Hazel Bishop lipstick seem unbelievably primitive

in the eyes of the '90s. Host Ralph Edwards works on

suspense-building as the camera scans the studio

audience.

"It could be you," says Edwards. "Or it could be

YOU!" The camera comes to rest on a handsome black

man in horn-rimmed glasses seated on the aisle. "But, it

is YOU Smith Robinson of Healdsburg, California. 

This is YOUR life!"

• • •

THE YEAR was 1954. And when Edwards suggested,

a few minutes into the program, that there were "about

50 people to a television set in the town of Healdsburg

that night, his estimate was probably low. Healdsburg

had 3,500 souls in those days. And not one of them

didn't know "Smitty."

Smitty's story seems almost like a fairy tale today.

Too good to be true. When you mention his name to

people who have been around a while, there's an

immediate smile and a heartfelt, "What a great guy he

was!"

Robinson's role in the community life of mid-century

Healdsburg had almost nothing to do with the fact that

he was black, or that he and his family were the only

blacks in town. Or, if it was a factor, it was more in his

eagerness to be a credit to his community because of

his race, not in spite of it. People didn't expiate their

guilt by loving Smitty. Rather, he earned the

admiration and, yes, love of an entire town with his

deeds.

There were so many stars in Smitty's crown it's hard

to know where to begin...

Men who were in the military in World War II

remember "Smitty's Scoops," a hometown newsletter

he wrote for all the Healdsburg men who were in the

armed forces. This project began as a personal

letter-writing campaign. Kept out of the service by a

heart condition, Robinson determined that his part in

the war effort would be to write letters to those who

served. He was up to 300 letters a month when he

realized he had taken on more than he could do alone.

When his fellow Rotarians learned of "Smitty's

Scoops," the club became the newsletter sponsor.

"Scoops" endured for almost 20 years - as long as

Smitty wrote them - keeping servicemen in touch with

home.

(Thanks to Clarence Ruonavaara for lending me this 

original article. Many thanks to Lillian Reid, my Production

Assistant for help turning scanned material to blog

material!)