In the presence of greatness

Not all of Oregon’s pioneers arrived during the 19th century. Saturday afternoon, I shook hands with a real-live 20th century aviation pioneer in the city of McMinnville. It was an interesting few seconds that I’ll remember.

I’ve met a lot of “can-do” people. They have drive, energy, a sense of purpose and an intensity that inspires, awes, intimidates or angers others. The room changes when a member of this club— the “movers and shakers”— enters.

Delford Smith, founder of Evergreen Aviation is in a different category. No, he possesses all of the above and more. In his late 70s he still can “do” with the best of them.

But Smith is also a longtime member of the “could-do, and did” club. That’s a considerably smaller group. While in the presence of this man I felt a sense of history, a feeling that a man’s destiny had been achieved.

Admittedly, that’s my reaction after only about 12 seconds of relatively uninterrupted interaction with this man who has overcome adversity from birth forward and has created positive change on a worldwide scale.

Those seconds passed by in a flash, from my friend Jim Ray saying, “Del, I’d like you to meet...” to my rather forced, “It’s an honor to have met you, sir.” Just around 12 seconds.

That kind of statement, including words like “honor” and “sir” doesn’t usually come to my mind. I’m an egalitarian and though I do follow protocol and will defer to the aristocrats among us in order to avoid controversy or conflict, I tend to balk when called upon to pay homage to the notion that not all of us truly are created equal.

I knew very little about Delford M. Smith before we met two days ago. And he said nothing that could have revealed the man inside his expensive black suit. But the way those around him seemed to be energized by being in his presence indicated to me that this was a very different kind of encounter.

Now, I’m not easily star-struck. I’ve been in the presence of greatness before— and I won’t say that I’d blindly follow Smith, or any one else for that matter. But that 12-second contact has left me with a growing desire to get a little more of the same.

Yep, I’d like to hang out with this guy for a while. No doubt I’d discover plenty that I don’t like about him; but I’m just as sure that time spent in his company would benefit me.

Placed in an orphanage shortly after his birth, Smith has made his way along a rocky road.

He was adopted before his second birthday; but his new father was killed just three months later.

Though penniless, his mother refused to give up her child. She worked in a glove factory and took laundry into their one-room house that ironically had no running water and was heated only by a wood stove.

As his mother’s health began to fail, Smith took on more and more responsibility. He gathered coal that fell from trains and sold it for pennies; and he maintained three newspaper routes, sold ice, worked in a kennel and caddied on weekends.

At seven, he managed to obtain a bank loan and to start his first business. The loan amount was $2.50; that purchased a lawn mower. By working hard he managed not only to pay back the loan but also to save money for the down payment on a home for his mother and to fund his college tuition.

You get the idea.

This man went on to serve his country in the Air Force and later to found aircraft companies that changed— and continue to change— the world.

Through it all, he maintained a commitment to doing good. His partner, Dean Johnson was killed in a plane accident. But Smith carried on, dedicating himself to helping others both inside and outside of the context of his companies.

His young son, Air Force Captain Michael King Smith, died before age 30 in an auto accident, and the father managed to channel his grief into a project that will enrich the lives of millions and, no doubt, inspire hundreds of young Americans to serve their country.

He built the Evergreen Aviation Museum and Captain Michael King Smith Educational Institute, a project his son had been instrumental in developing and one near to the hearts of both men.

To ensure that the world would come to McMinnville, Oregon to honor his son, Smith acquired Howard Hughes’ Spruce Goose and transported it from Long Beach California.

This historic aircraft, which flew just once shortly after the end of World War II, shares space with a half-hundred other aircraft in a huge building near the city airport.

Next to this building, another giant structure is about to open. Here, visitors will celebrate aviation and space exploration in an I-Max theater. And beyond the beautiful theater, which is slated for opening later this month, is the foundation for yet another great building which will house artifacts from the space program.

I learned nearly all of this after I looked Smith in the eye for a few seconds, grasped his hand and heard words approaching idolization flow from my mouth.

After some research and reflection on the adoration visible in the eyes of those surrounding this remarkable man, I’ll stand by my words. It was an honor to share a little time and space with Delford M. Smith.