By Mike Simmons
George Smith was born in Columbus Georgia in 1853, in the midst of high emotions of a soon-to-be divided nation. He was eight years old when his state seceded from the union. An eight-year-old doesn’t comprehend the full complications of war, but he is affected by loved ones lost.
The family survived the war, but tragedy struck in July 1867. George’s father, Eugene Augustus Smith, died at the young age of 33 in Columbus. He left a wife, Amanda Frances Smith, and five children behind.
His mother continued to raise the children herself, a difficult job at any time, but especially in the southern U. S. following the Civil War. She soon moved in with her mother (George’s grandmother), Mrs. C. C. Reese, to make ends meet.
George, now a man, struck out on his own and stopped in the frontier town of Pensacola, Florida. It was there that he met Rosa Sanders (sister of future police marshal Frank Sanders).
By 1884, the war over and reconstruction in full swing, Smith found himself in the southeastern part of Alabama in Barbour County, Rosa’s hometown. It was there, on April 24, that he and Rosa married. From that union came nine children – six daughters and three sons.
George and Rosa Smith liked living in Pensacola, so it became home permanently. George soon got a job in the booming railroad industry. Rail travel had been around for years, but not much of it reached down to the Florida panhandle. That is, until W. D. Chipley made his splash here. As the lumber, fishing, military and railroad presence began to make its way into the small town of Pensacola, George Smith thought it good to take advantage of the new opportunities. Soon, he was a train engineer with the Louisville and Nashville line.
The next year, on October 10, 1885, George was operating Passenger Train #2 in the evening when an accident occurred on the track a few miles west of Marianna, Florida. Unusually windy weather contributed to a dangerous situation. Extreme winds blew an empty boxcar from a side rail onto the main rail line, blocking it and making for a potential disaster. As soon as possible, a flagman was sent forward to warn in inbound train being driven by George Smith. Again, the heavy winds intruded, blowing out the flagman’s lantern, the instrument used to gain the attention of engineers in the dark. Before he was able to relight the lantern, George’s train passed by, the flagman’s loud verbal warnings going unheard. When the engine struck the freight car, considerable damage was done. George was shaken up, but not seriously injured as was the fireman onboard. Three of his ribs were broken, but he survived.
Partly due to the newly gained popularity of the railroad industry, the personality of George Smith, and the fact that he was elected the president of the Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineers, No. 275, George became a sort of celebrity around town. He pursued an interest in and eventually joined and held offices in the Masons, Knights of Pythias, Knights of Honor, Woodmen of the World, American Guild, and the Benevolent Order of Elks. The Pensacola newspapers even kept running reports on his personal life, especially his health, the birth of his children, and the construction progress of the new home he built on Gadsden and Davis Streets.
Local politics is a strange animal. On October 29, 1893, longtime sheriff Joseph Wilkins died suddenly. The entire city was in shock. However, by November 2, 1893, the names of six men had been announced for consideration by the governor for appointment to take his place! The members of the local bar reported that they were going to recommend the appointment of Thomas F. Cusachs for the position, but the labor organizations and the fraternal organizations made calls to the governor in favor of George E. Smith. The sheriff’s chair didn’t remain cold for long. At 5:45 PM, the Pensacola News received a telegram that announced the appointment of George Smith to fulfill the remainder of Sheriff Wilkins’ term[1]
July 1, 1903, Eugene Smith was driving his father, the sheriff, from his home at 123 East Gregory Street to his office at the county jail in the horse and buggy. As usual, he spoke and waved to many friends along the way. He stopped at D’Alemberte’s drugstore and visited for a few minutes. As the buggy passed the intersection of Government and Palafox Streets, the old man began to convulse.
“Jail, quick!” he said in great pain. His son whipped up the horse and sped the few blocks to Smith’s office. Jailer Bobe came out and helped Eugene take the sheriff into the building. Mrs. Smith and an old family friend, Dr. Renshaw, were summoned and were present within a few minutes. An ambulance soon arrived and took Sheriff Smith to his house where he was made as comfortable as possible for his final hours. He died that evening at 7:40 PM. among family and friends.
As could be imagined, a great crowd made for a great funeral. Services took place at his home, common for the day, and was attended by hundreds, with dignitaries serving as pallbearers[2]. Sheriff Smith was buried in St. Johns Cemetery. A small headstone graces his grave to this day.
[1] Escambia’s new Sheriff, Pensacola News, November 12, 1893.
[2] Sudden Death of Sheriff Geo. E. Smith, Pensacola News, July 2,