December 10, 1942 – July 4, 2018
Joann Smith, age 75, passed away July 4, 2018 at her home in Pulaski. Her parents were the late Andrew and Edith Tankersley Ball and her husband was the late Lendon Smith. Survivors include her daughter, Donna Williams “Greg”, her sons, Lee Smith “Carol”, Barry Smith, and William Smith, all of Pulaski, Keith Smith “Jodi” of Kentucky, and Tony Smith “Diane” of Nashville, her brothers, A C Ball “Debbie” and Bill Ball of Pulaski, her sisters, Jean Ferguson and Bonnie Ball “Emmett” of Pulaski, 9 grandchildren, and 8 great grandchildren.
Visitation with the family will be Friday, July 6, 2018 from 2:00 p.m. until 4:00 p.m. at Carr & Erwin Funeral Home where Funeral Services will begin at 4:00 p.m. Burial to follow at Booth Chapel Cemetery in Minor Hill.
Carr & Erwin Funeral Home
- Visitation Friday, July 6, 2018
- Funeral Service Friday, July 6, 2018
July 5, 2018
My memory is of Sundays. Sundays at Nanny’s house. Seems like I spent hundreds of them there. My favorites were as a kid. Nanny always in the kitchen cooking when I showed up. Various people, some family some not, all there. Adults on the porch and us kids running around in the yard. Her yard seemed like something out of a fairytale. Flowers everywhere, so much color everywhere. More variety and color than you would think possible. Butterflies, and bees buzzing lazy from one blossom to another. Seems every week there would be a new path, or a new decoration, something she had done in her gardens. She was dangerous with paint, everything would get painted. Birdhouses, rocks, paths, anything really that got in her way. She didn’t drive, I always wondered where she got all the paint. I remember Daddy making bouquets from the flowers in the summer to carry home to Carol. Eventually everyone came in for food. Seemed almost magical to me how there was always enough for everyone. Part of the magic had to be cooked in, because whatever she was cooking on that given day it was the best I had ever had. While we would eat she would sit in the living room , too hot to eat, and fan herself with one of those paper fans on a stick. In the winter you came into the smell and feel of wood heat. I can still see her go out in bare feet to get a stick of wood for the heater. The sound it made when she opened it and put the wood in. I’ve missed those days in the yard, and those meals around that table. I have missed them for years just like now I miss her. It is not hard to know why I have missed them or why I will miss her. I will miss the overwhelming feeling of love. To me anyway her house was full of love, her food was cooked with love, I never felt anything from her or around her but love. Some people may have some, but I have no bad memories of her. She was better than most of us, and more accurately put , better despite us.