Norman Lee Smith

Norman Lee Smith, 81, died on December 19, 2024 at Emory University Hospital in Decatur, GA. 

Mr. Smith was born on September 17, 1943 in Philadelphia, PA, the son of Norman L. Smith Jr. and Margaret (Gleeson) Smith.  He was a graduate of Haddonfield (NJ) Memorial High School and Springfield (Mass.) College, and earned graduate degrees at the University of Notre Dame and Emory University. He lived in Atlanta, GA from 1969 until his death.

Such are the dust-dry details of a life, and history is welcome to them.  But those of us who knew him can convey who he was only in pieces, and only through the innumerable stories and quotations he has left behind.  

Lee was crazy about his wife of 56 years, Helen, whom he met on a blind date at Notre Dame in 1967.  He proposed to Helen a few months later and they were married less than a year after that, because he was nobody's fool and knew a good thing when he saw it.  He was not an overtly sentimental man but would annually publish a Facebook message telling the world how much he loved her and cherished their marriage.

He was a father who taught his six children what it meant to sacrifice for others.  He was never a rich man, but what he had he spent making sure they received an education and the opportunity to pursue their interests.  All six of those kids went to Catholic schools from kindergarten through high school.  All six graduated from college.  All six ended up with their heads screwed on straight, thanks largely to Lee's insistence at key moments that they remove those heads from other, more enclosed portions of their anatomy.

He was an attorney widely known for his intelligence and skill.  Respected by his peers and the judges before whom he appeared, and an asset to his clients and his profession, he loved telling his war stories, to which we could never do justice here.

He was a ballplayer, and a tough one; he made more than one play at the expense of his face and had the beak to prove it.  He played organized baseball every year from his childhood until he was in his 70's, very grudgingly consenting to move to a senior league only for the last few years.  His closet was overstuffed with a souvenir shop's worth of jerseys and caps he was proud to have earned the right to wear.  His bathroom closet was full of Icy Hot, eye black, and athletic tape. 

His memory was phenomenal; he could tell you where he stopped for a burger on every road trip he ever took, and that was a lot of road trips because he shuttled six kids to and from colleges across the South and Midwest at distances that would have caused Lewis and Clark to throw up their hands and say "forget it, we'll just wait until the airplane is invented."

He loved history and cheesesteaks and root beer and coaching and anything remotely Irish or Catholic.  He adored Notre Dame and its athletic teams, and many times made the trip up to South Bend to watch their football team play--but only late in the season, so that he would have more time to look forward to the trip. 

He converted to Catholicism as a young man and was ever devout but never dogmatic. He was of constant service to his parish and was relied on by generations of priests as a go-to lector for early Mass.  His faith sustained him throughout his life and the long illnesses he endured.

This is a pauper's portion of his life. The rest would fill a thousand nights of stories and jokes over a thousand bottles of good Irish whiskey--and should.

He is survived by Helen and his six children--Sean (Kimberly) of Lake Bluff, IL, Kathleen (Jason) of Omaha, NE, Brendan (Whitney) of Puerto Penasco, Mexico, Eileen (Eric) of Parkland, FL, Patrick (Katie) of South Bend, IN, and Anne (Bill) of Fairford, England--along with twelve grandchildren (Maggie, Madison, Carrick, Makenna, Owen, Ellie, Rylan, Amelia, Harrison, Avery, Breccan, and David), his brother Michael of Wells, ME, and his brother Herbert of Hammonton, NJ.  

We love him tremendously.  We will miss him like hell.  And we are enduringly proud to tell his stories. 

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