Sam Smith's Values Live On In His Children

It's easy to get the impression that people in the public arena have two kinds of children, ones who are always getting into trouble and ones who follow in their parent's career footsteps.

Those are the ones we hear about - bad Kennedys are are a staple. Offspring of public parents who go their own way and succeed don't always make good copy, but they do have something to say about being your own person.

Take Sam Smith's children.

They've taken values such as personal integrity and community service and applied them to their own pursuits. Having a role model doesn't mean becoming a clone of that person, but rather applying the best of their values and actions when you navigate your own course.

Sam Smith was a Seattle city councilman noted for his personal touch and his connection to people. He represented Seattle's 37th District in the Legislature for 10 years and followed that with 24 years on the Seattle City Council.

When he died in 1995, he left behind a political legacy and five sons and a daughter.

Carl, the entrepreneur, owns a computer company; Anthony works for Boeing; Donald is a Paccar manager, and his twin, Ronald, is program manager for housing services at the University of Washington. Stephen has made a career of the Army.

Their older sister Amelia, though she is mentally challenged, is successfully living on her own with help from her brothers.

Being Sam Smith's son is "very much a plus and very much a burden," Carl says. People know who they are and may trust them because of their father's reputation, but also "they have a definition of who you are without having spent the time to ascertain who you really are."

Carl says he never felt compelled to be involved in politics. He had other interests, but he had also gotten a good look at the life of a politician and didn't want that.

No one could be a clone of Sam Smith now anyway. He was known for always answering his own telephone, taking time to chat with ordinary people and for being bluntly honest about his positions.

"It was much easier to be a politician in the early part of his career than the later part," Carl Smith says. "You have the media taking a look at every thing you do, every little act and interpreting and sometimes misinterpreting everything." He says politics now is less about actions than about perceptions.

Anthony Smith tried to follow his father's career. He lost a race for the Legislature when he was 20 and still in school.

"Dad missed his first time when he ran for the Legislature," Anthony says. "He told us more than likely you will miss the first time. You have to get your name known." Anthony tried again and lost again.

"Dad was a semi-pro baseball player. He said it takes three strikes before you are out."

But Anthony says he wasn't eager to go through that a third time. Now he's putting his skills to use in other ways.

He is president of the Boeing Employees Good Neighbor Fund, the largest employee-owned charitable organization in the world.

And like his brothers, he spends time volunteering with young people.

Says Carl, "We've all participated as coaches, helping other kids that need a role model. My dad was my role model, but it wasn't until I was out of college that I grasped the value of that."

They were able to see him live his values. "Material things were never that important to him," Carl says. "Most of the families that have had problems have had notoriety for two reasons, economic and political," he says. The combined pressure is much greater than either one alone.

The Smiths lived in the same house for more than 30 years, and his father drove an old Chevy station wagon until he bought a used Buick.

The sons worked their way through college.

Anthony says that when he is coaching, his real job is to provide kids with basic values, "with regards to doing your best, following instructions, being consistent and watching the returns come in the long term."

Their dad taught them that. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Jerry Large's column appears Sundays and Thursdays in the Scene section of The Seattle Times. You can reach him c/o The Times, P.O. Box 70, Seattle, WA 98111. Phone: 206-464-3346. Fax: 206-464-2261.