Yulanda Smith

Yulanda was born on January 10, 1981, in Miami, Florida, to Rudell Smith (who preceded her in death) and the beloved Betty Jean Smith. From the very beginning, it was clear that Yulanda was something special — the baby of the family and, by unanimous agreement, the undisputed favorite. Her siblings simply adored her, showering her with the kind of love and affection that only a baby sister could command. If you knew her family, you knew that Yulanda was kissed — often, abundantly, and without apology.

Standing tall at 5'10" with a supermodel's grace and a smile that could light up any room she walked into, Yulanda had a presence that was impossible to ignore and even harder to forget. She was full of life with just the right hint of sass — the kind of woman who made every gathering better simply by arriving. Her infectious smile and radiant spirit drew people to her effortlessly, and those lucky enough to call her a friend or family knew they were experiencing something rare.

Yulanda grew up in Miami, where she built friendships that would last a lifetime. She graduated from Carol City High School in Miami, Florida, where her talent and passion for music found its home. As a proud member of the Carol City Chiefs Marching Band, Yulanda picked up the saxophone and never looked back. She played with precision, pride, and an undeniable fire — her music was an extension of everything bold and beautiful about her.

Carrying that same fire forward, Yulanda went on to attend Florida Agricultural and Mechanical University—better known as Florida A&M University or FAMU—in Tallahassee, a place that would become central to her life’s story. She proudly marched and performed with FAMU's Rattlers Marching Band, continuing a musical legacy she had begun in high school. At Florida A&M University, Yulanda was one of only 33 freshmen to rise through the ranks of the Marching 100 and join the Soulful Saxes, where she quickly became a cornerstone of her class.

Her poise, stature, marching and playing ensure that she was able to perform with the best of us. It was at FAMU that Yulanda's world would take an unexpected and heartbreaking turn, as she was stricken with Viral Encephalitis, a devastating brain illness that would alter the course of her life. Yet even in the face of that battle, those who knew her never stopped seeing Yulanda — her humor, her beauty, her sass, and her spirit remained undiminished.

At home, Yulanda could be found curled up watching her all-time favorite show, The Martin Lawrence Show, quoting her favorite expression — "Get to stepping!" — a phrase her loved ones will hear in their hearts for the rest of their lives. She loved the movie Drumline and its motto: one band, one sound — a truth she had already understood long before she ever saw it on screen.

Yulanda leaves behind a love that cannot be measured, carried forward by her son, Omari Floyd, who was the light of her life; her devoted mother, Betty Jean Smith; her siblings, Rudell Smith Jr., Priscilla Smith-Woodson, Rondall Smith, Randall Smith, and Monica Smith-Gough; her high school best friend, Marquisha Andrews, who walked beside her through the halls of Carol City and through life; and her favorite cousin and childhood best friend, Inez Adderly — a kindred spirit she literally grew up alongside, the kind of bond that needs no explanation because it simply always was. She was preceded in death by her father, Rudell Smith.

Yulanda Smith was not just a woman who lived — she was a woman who fought. For much of her adult life, Viral Encephalitis waged a relentless war against her body, slowly stealing her mobility and eventually her voice. The woman who once marched across football fields with her saxophone, who filled every room with laughter and an infectious smile, spent years waging a quiet and courageous battle that most people never fully understood. But those who sat beside her knew that Yulanda was still there — still present, still feeling, still her.

She did not get the full life she deserved. That is a grief her loved ones will carry honestly. But the life she lived — the music, the laughter, the sass, the love of a family who adored and kissed her endlessly — was real, and vivid, and it mattered deeply.

On February 24, 2026, Yulanda was finally free. No longer bound. No longer in pain.

Somewhere, that saxophone is playing again — and she is standing tall.