An Independent Life

When the snow starts to fly in the Cascade Mountains, I think of Joie Smith. Joie started a towing business more than 40 years ago at the base of Mt. Hood, and has rescued thousands of unfortunate drivers and their vehicles all around the mountain and the surrounding countryside. Prior to that, she owned and operated a ski shop at Mt. Hood. I interviewed Joie in July of 2009 when she was 81 years old. Joie’s biological father was killed in a boating accident when she was around eight years old, and her mother remarried. During our interview, Joie referred to her biological father as “Father” and her stepfather as “Dad.”

What are your earliest memories of your father?

We had property on Sauvie Island and I remember being in an old Franklin car, fording the streams. You would put newspaper in front of the radiator to try to get through the stream without getting the ignition wet. I remember once when the car stalled in the middle of the stream and he had to get a team of horses to pull the car out.

He was strict. I wasn’t allowed downstairs until I was called from my room, both in the morning and after dinner. It was very much like an Old Country upbringing for a youngster. There was music in the house. He loved to sing, and my mother would accompany him. They entertained, dinners and that sort of thing, until the Depression hit. They were better off than most, though, and I remember men coming to the door and asking if there was any work they could do for a meal. Myour y mom never refused them, which makes an impression on a child.

Did he spend much time with you?

He always reserved a time before I went to bed to either talk or read to me. Maybe not for long, but I’d sit in his lap and it was a little time together that I looked forward to. I loved it. He was openly affectionate.

What’s the most fun thing you remember doing with your father?

Probably going fishing. He was an avid outdoorsman. I would get to hold a fishing pole in a rowboat. I remember I caught a fish and it almost pulled the pole out of my hand, but I landed it! My mother would come along. Things were pretty much done as a family unit. He had lots of friend that he fished with and hunted with, but also he included my mother and me a great deal of the time.

In those years when you were growing up with him, and being included by him, did you feel loved by your father?

Yes, definitely. One of the major things is that I was included. Because in the next go-round I was excluded. But I carried the included part with me throughout my life.

Being included conveyed to you some sense that you’re worthy, you’re important.

Yes, and that made me want to do things as good as I possibly could.

So let’s talk about your dad: what did he value and how did those things become evident to you?

Well, he could not have been more different than my father. He was a fun-loving, two-fisted drinking, product of the Roaring 20s. And my mother loved this, because we had lived a far more formal, restricted life before.

He was a very capable person. He believed in being ready, being there on time, and doing a good job when you went to work. And when you’re on your own time, why, play as hard as you want to, but be ready to go back to work the next morning. And not to whimper and cry about things or be a bellyacher. He had many skills, both in business and in physical ability.

When my mother was dating him, I told her I thought I’d like to have him as a dad. He was a horseman, among other things, and within a very few months after he and my mom were together, I got a pony. The back of our block was a 20-acre hay field. I kept the pony in town part of the time, and part of the time out on an 83-acre farm Dad bought in Clackamas. I never cared for household activities. My interests have always been more outdoors, be it animals or equipment. And so with a farm, why, I learned how to drive a Cat and clear fields and cut wood, and I could burn off energy with these things.

One summer I spent splitting wood, and at the end of the summer, Dad said, “I’ll give you four cords of wood for your summer’s efforts.” I was 12, and shortly before that I’d decided I wanted a car. I’d learned to drive when I was ten, in the hayfield out there with an old International Truck, pulling a buck rake. I could hardly see out of it to reach the pedals! Anyway, I traded my four cords of wood for a Model A Roadster. It wasn’t running real well, and this began my learning of auto mechanics. Dad’s distant cousin was a service manager at Francis Ford down on Hawthorne and Grand Avenue, so I went down there with my engine and learned how to pour the bearings and rebuild the engine, and I brought it home and we put it back in the Model A. Dad spent the time to help me with these things. Kids learn quickly, you know, they really do.

At 14 I got my learner’s permit and the minute I had that, I was driving all the time. He stressed that driving is a privilege, and if I’d been caught doing something illegal, I’d have lost that privilege. By the time I was 15, I had a regular drivers’ license and my folks told me, “As long as we know where you are and what you’re doing, you can go.” I had complete freedom. And I always valued that.

Your dad and your mother had children after they got married.

I was nine years older than my little brother, and ten or eleven years older than my little sister. The two of them could gang up against me, so when something went haywire, they’d say, “Well, she did it.” Sometimes the folks would see through that. But the worst of it was I was a built-in babysitter. And that wasn’t good for us three kids and I made up my mind at a tender age I was not gonna have any children. I knew what taking care of diapers and bringing up kids was all about and it wasn’t my cup of tea.

What would you say were the really big lessons that you took into your life from your father and your dad?

Well, I learned that things are always changing, and you’d better learn to accept change, not fight it, not be an obstructionist. It’s easy to fall back and say “No” or “I don’t want” or “I won’t” or “I can’t.” You have to learn to bend. Also, have fun! Try to do the best you can. And observe, because there’s always something to see. There’s always something to learn. Keep your mind open. Retain what you can. Help when you can.

You’ve done things that not very many women have done: ski racing, running the ski shop, then running a towing business for 40 years now. You’ve still got your health and strength. You’ve got a real toughness about you, a physical strength and toughness of character. Did that come from your dad or your father?

Both. I inherited my physical strength from my biological father and certainly used it with the stepfather. I’ve always enjoyed a fair degree of strength and I’ve been very physically active, which has helped me keep it. Horseback riding is a lot more exercise than most people realize. This is big country up here, and you just don’t go for an hour, you go out for the day and you cover miles.

Any last thing you’d like to add?

From both men, I learned to appreciate learning. They both would explain things to me. People have no idea the responsibility that should go with parenting. I’ve seen the consequences today of kids that haven’t had help from their parents, and the parents haven’t given of themselves to their children. I feel for kids that haven’t had love and discipline at home. I really do.

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