Priscilla Richardson

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For several months, a friend had been urging me to talk to Buchanan's Virginia Dodd Smith Smith, 82. And yes, that's her correct name, not a typo. So one day I finally did, and am glad of it.

Smith thinks she had the best childhood it was possible for anyone to have had. "I was surrounded by love, wonderful parents, grandparents and uncles and aunts. I felt safe and secure. I could walk the streets of Fincastle and not be afraid."

Smith's security started long before she was born. Her father was one of the Dodd boys, so-called. They're long gone now, but according to Smith, "had a great influence on Fincastle." The Dodd parents had moved from Floyd to a farm adjoining Pierce Chapel church, about three miles out of Fincastle. They came because Floyd "was depressed and they thought they'd have a better future in Fincastle," the seat of a large county.

These Dodds farmed, growing tomatoes to supply a nearby cannery. The whole family was active in the Methodist church and the boys attended a one-room schoolhouse across the road from the church. Of course, the boys helped on the farm and worked very hard.

Their ambitions weren't limited to farming, so when they grew up the boys came to Fincastle. Three stayed and prospered -- Harold, the oldest, Clem, and Shelor, Smith's father. These three "married good women who helped them in every way," said Smith, and each had a family.

"My father bought a lot of property, was an auctioneer and merchant," Smith said. "He and his brothers decided they'd help maintain the historical buildings that were there. They just loved the little town of Fincastle. My Uncle Clem owned the old tavern, now an office building, the hotel, and the museum, and maintained them."

But along came the Second World War. Smith, fresh out of business college, moved to Buchanan to work for the War Price and Ration Board in 1942. There she met J. Russell Smith, an executive in the button factory.

"The day I met him he told me he was a 42-year-old happy bachelor and intended to stay that way. A month later he asked me for a date. We went to Hotel Roanoke for dinner and then a movie. Had oysters and a big seven-course dinner, it was two dollars and a half. I have a menu. We went to the American Theater, a gorgeous theater. That was big bucks. At that time he was sales manager and was doing very well.

"I boarded at the same boardinghouse, had to see him three times a day at mealtimes. We just simply fell in love. We married in 1944. His mother thought he would never marry and she was delighted. She said she'd given up but when he met me he fell like a ton of bricks. She lived in Philadelphia and he was from Philadelphia. He never lost his accent. He loved Philadelphia and stayed a Yankee. People in town called him a 'damn Yankee' as a term of endearment and he loved it. We built a house in Buchanan after we married. It was 1948, and hard to get materials, we had a tough time building it. I'm still in it, have kept it up.

"My husband was 24 years older than me. We were happy for 38 years. He was older than my mother and my father, and they did not like the idea at all. But I loved the man, so I went ahead and married him; everything was fine. I was a secretary and worked for years in the two limestone companies. I loved my job. I joined the Methodist church and [eventually] sang in the choir 60 years.

"After losing my first husband, I was determined I'd never ever marry again, but my second husband was a friend and lived down the street. At first, I wouldn't hear of it, but we had nine years before he died." His name? Daniel Smith, a corrections officer. Hence the double Smith name.

Fortunate in childhood, then fortunate in life. A true Botetourt story.