The expressions directed toward the man who left an impression on everyone he met with his million dollar smile are too infinite to put on paper or type in a word processor. But for sanity's sake I will use this page to serve as an outlet to bare some of the feelings toward the man known as Smiley from our childhood.
From the days of eating cereal from a large mixing bowl, even prior to those were the syrup and butter sandwiches he ate regularly as a young boy, to the Popeyes chicken we shared on Friday nights in our young adulthood. Smiley--a name given to him by one of the older ladies in our neighborhood--had the gift of joy. Even as a child he could make us laugh until we cried and doubled over with cramps by acting a clown. See before there was Tyler Perry(Madea), we had Tony Moore(Many characters). We would be in the front yard drinking a Nehi drink from Will Haynes store and he would suddenly start acting like the bum from In Living Color. That show was not even out yet. Not only could he make you laugh by acting and getting you involved with what he was doing but he could also crack you up with some of his most infamous stories. Call them whatever you like but they were funny.
I can recall several occasions in which he has literally carried me home. One time we, Fred, Tony, and myself were bike riding through the neighborhood and we had gotten word that a new girl was visiting a family up the street. Of course I had Fred on the back of my bike and Tony was on his. As we rounded the back of the homes across the street, we spotted her. It is not a good thing trying to get someone's attention on a 10 speed while pulling someone on a graveled alley. The next thing I know, Fred's foot got hung in my rear spokes and he and I tore that ground up! Needless to say, Tony to the rescue. He and Fred that day carried me home, literally. Another time we ran the court in Constantine, playing against older guys but winning. As I drove in, I rolled my ankle off the edge of the court and he carried me from that court to home without stopping. Later in life while I had the opportunity to stay with them, he put aside what he was doing to come to Atl., help me put a fanbelt on my car, then drive my car home.
Not only was he a joy but also a help. No matter how many squabbles we had or how many times we were upset with one another, nobody else outside the fam. could squabble or threaten us. Tony would always be the one to step up and lay claim that we were his cousins, his people, and if you were going to mess with any of us then you would have to go through him to do it. He was more than a comedian; he was more than a master at storytelling; he was more than Doc Jr.; he was more than even his stature promoted; he was a hidden blessing to us and those he came in contact with. Not one time did I ever hear him complain about doing something for someone. He was always glad to help. He may joke with you later about it but never a single complaint.
From our days of basketball in the backyard; the football games in the front of the house on the corner of Pyle Ave. as well as in the backyard of the same address; the many fishing trips we shared as young boys; the baseball games went to,the many adventures shared with Fred Berry on 10 speed bikes we thought were dirt bikes; the altercations as kids often have; the lawnmower duties which we were paid with sodas; the backyard ball and brawls; the hikes throught the woods; the treasure hunting we went on because we buried the money; the swapping of vehicles with loud music; the arguements over my driving too slow on our state to state driving; the quest to find God and our identities (I believe he found him); to where we are now, a place where it is not appropriate to say good-bye but a see you later Brother.
I Can Make It