scooter smith

This memoir is about fulfilling the trust a broken veteran put in me, and how I needed to trust someone as well. The photo is of a certificate I received after undergoing the Order of Neptune ritual while crossing the equator between Singapore and the Sunda Strait aboard the USS Ticonderoga.

“Welcome back,” I said.

His eyes reddened, and he gave me a strained smile. “Thanks, I guess.”

This memoir shows how seemingly small acts of kindness can sometimes have larger consequences. Some names and locations have been changed to shield an identity. The image at left is a poster for The Thin Man from Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios.

“Were you a friend of Rick Hansen on Bell Street?” he asked.

“Still am,” I replied.

“I thought I recognized you.” He paused. “You ever?” He let the question hang.

This is a memoir about getting what you think you want. The photograph is of me as an old salt on the gangplank of the USS Ticonderoga.

“I was trying not to show it, but he felt my turmoil. He even volunteered to stay aboard with me. His wife and daughter, who I knew almost intimately from his stories, were on the pier. There was no question about where he needed to be. I thanked him and wished him well.

Soon, most everyone was ashore while I just sat stunned. Silent. Stewing.”

This memoir is all about transit; from civilian to sailor, from teenager to man, and from voiceless cog to celebrant of attainable freedom. Photograph of the USS Sanctuary off the coast of Da Nang, 1969, by William P Jones, MD.

“One thing I knew: Ferguson was on to something. All of us lined up at morning muster had signed away our lives. No exaggeration. The Navy now owned us physically, and even mentally.”

This memoir is about my first few days in a Navy squadron and the changes I went through after meeting my militant first roommate. The photo was taken of me nearby in the Fall of 1969. Published in the 2018 edition of Ageless Authors Anthology.

“Hill spoke: “Smitty, come the revolution, you’re gonna have to go up against the wall.”

I looked at him askance before inspecting an empty locker. “Well, you wake up cheery,” I said.”

This memoir is about my stunted attempts at political activism while in the service. The drawing is my version of the G.I.’s Against Fascism logo.

“A lot of history went down between my enlisting in the Navy Air Reserve in March of 1968 and arriving in San Diego in September of 1969 to find out where on Earth I would be stationed.”

Satin Jacket is a lightly filtered memoir about the sex lives of techies in the film and video business in the 1980s. Well, kinda. The photo at left is of the logo on the back of my satin jacket.

“I was skinny, none too tall, and sported a large Seventies mustache. But with this jacket, suddenly I was a thing.”