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Show In Our Town... JUNIUS B. SMITH This week, we really have a surprise sur-prise for you a man who has successfully hidden himself, his family and his talents in our midst for three years. It's even money that not more than a dozen people peo-ple know who, where, or what he is. He has been dodging an interview inter-view for six months. If I had not threateded him with blackmail, I would never have had this story. My margin of safety is the fact that his meager gas ration makes it impossible for him to come after me for the duration. So, hold your hats kids, he we go again. Junius B. Smith, to give him his full due, first saw the smoke of day in Salt Lake City on September Septem-ber 29th, 1883. He is the grandson grand-son of Samuel H. Smith, brother of the Prophet Joseph, and one of the original organizers of the L. D. S. church. The years from 1833 until 1911, roughly twenty-eight years, I can only say that they were definitely not spent in seclusion. However, his actual fall fom grace occurred in 1911, when, with the acceptance of his first story for publication, he became (gradually) a professional profes-sional writer. This state of affairs has continued for over thirty years. A conservative estimate of his outpourings would be close to eight million words and that ain't hay when you consider that someone some-one thought enough of his writings writ-ings to pay for that eight million. (If this is boring you, please turn to the society page. We are just getting started.) Junius studied law and was first admitted to the bar on April 9th, 1914. Along with his writing, he was a practising attorney for nearly near-ly twenty-five years. As a matter of fact, he still is a member in good standing of the Utah State Bar. He has surrounded himself with a ranch, up the North Fork of Hobble Creek, just a couple of charming and talented wife (Dor-charming (Dor-charming and talented wfe (Doris) (Dor-is) and two of the cutest girls you could hope to find anywhere, Mary Catherine, aged seven, and Ellen, aged four. Didi and Pepper, respectively. The interesting thing about this marriage was that Junius tried to eat his cake and have it also. Doris was a perfect secretary, and, as Junius had fallen in love with her, he reasoned; naturally, that she would be the perfect wife for him, but somewhere in the shuffle, he lost his secretary. It seems that you just can't dictate to a wife, especially a wife who is an excellent excel-lent writer in her own right. Junius has a thirty-year-old son (Continued on page eight) JUNIUS B. SMITH . . . (Continued from page one) (by a former marriage) who is at present in the South Pacific, an aircraft technician in the employ of the government. Just in case the foregoing synopsis synop-sis seems a little heavy, we will wind up with a few highlights that will stand exposure. Junius was at one time an amateur bike rider at the old Salt Palace in Salt Lake City. He was several times State Champion checker player. He operated op-erated one of the first large-scale poultry hatcheries in Utah and has messed around with building and contracting. This adds up to a darn good man. At sixty, he is in there pitching every day. He has a King Size sense of humor (even though he does keep it out of sight at ties) and manages to turn out a prodidgious amount of work. With becoming modesty, he admitted ad-mitted confidentally that Frank Robertson is his idea of a thoroughly thor-oughly successful writer and one who deserved even more appreciation apprecia-tion in. this country than he has received. THE CATALYST. |