Market Street Railway celebrates the life of Jack Smith, who showed exceptional skill and commitment to historic transit preservation in San Francisco, as a cable car gripman, streetcar motorman, and MSR director and volunteer.
At its annual meeting on November 16, Market Street Railway honored Jack posthumously with the Dave Pharr Award, our highest honor for volunteers, for his dedicated efforts in leading the restoration of 1914 Muni streetcar No. 162. Jack passed away in September at the age of 72.
Jack requested that there be no memorial service, and that request was honored. But many of Jack’s friends have shared remembrances. Here is a sample:
Jack Smith was a good friend, a superb teacher and a true gentleman. He was possessed with a great sense of humor and wit, and had many tales of his career with Muni and as a merchant seaman, which would keep me in stitches throughout! I first met Jack in 1970. He was as funny then as he was up to his last day. He was always respected by everyone from fellow operators to the system General Managers, and all levels between.
Jack, along with colleague John Nevin, taught me everything I know about vintage cars. Learning from
Jack and having him train me on the vintage cars made me a better streetcar operator overall. He was always there when I needed to solve a particular problem with a vintage car.
Jack learned his craft from his father. As a boy, he would ride with his dad on his run on the old MSRy ‘200s’ on Sutter Street, usually at night when fewer people rode. When it came time for his father to have his sandwich, he’d turn to Jack and say “Run the car.” And run the car he did. As a result, no present day motorman will ever top Jack’s expertise in handling a streetcar like Car No. 1 or 130. I am blessed with the knowledge
he imparted to me and I feel that I do a good job as a motorman, but no one will ever be the master like Jack Smith. As John Nevin put it when Jack retired in 1994, “A master railroader. They will fill the vacancy when he retires, but they will never fill Jack Smith’s shoes.”
—Peter Ehrlich
Jack was a gentle and kind soul, always patiently encouraging us ‘younger types’ in the hobby. Always friendly, and with his ribald sense of humor, Jack was the epitome of a classic motorman: alert, conscientious, polite, and reliable. Jack didn’t spout off much about pride; he lived it in the way he conducted himself.
And that laugh—that mischievous laugh, telling you that a really good joke was coming.”
—Emiliano Echeverria
When a friend introduced me to Jack Smith during the first Trolley Festival in 1983, I knew there was something special about him. I was only twelve at the time, and many of the other younger railfans found him a bit intimidating. But Jack always made me feel welcome on his car, which was usually Car No. 1. Occasionally, I’d see him on one of the Oporto cars.
I recall boarding No. 1704 at the Mint one afternoon, inbound, and was surprised to see Jack operating the car. The carbon shoe on the trolley pole was bad, and the pole kept dewiring—three times by 11th Street. All I could hear from Jack was his venerable low–frequency grumble as he sent me out the door to reset the pole. We hammered across the special work at 11th only to lose our pole again as we crossed Tenth. By now, his grumbles had turned into quiet expletives. “Damn, son of a @#!$%.” I jokingly called him a leadfoot and laughed as I got off the car.
But the joke was soon to be on me. When I reset the pole, I noticed it arced quite sharply and soon realized why.
In less than two seconds, those quick blinker doors closed, the actuators ka–chunked off, the wheels started spinning, and the car took off towards Ninth Street, leaving me behind, standing in the middle of Market Street. Yes, he did wait for me. As I boarded, the passengers were still in stitches, and Jack was looking at me through the rear-view mirror with that infamous crooked smile of his. We made it through Ninth, albeit very slowly, only to dewire again at Eighth. Needless to say, I kept my mouth shut as I went to ‘work’ again.
‘Encyclopedic’ is one of many adjectives I could use to describe Jack. I was always impressed at how quickly he could recall names, faces, and facts about transit history…not only San Francisco’s, but nationwide. He never boasted or bragged about himself, and understood the importance of humility. He never demanded respect, however he earned it from all of us, and rightfully so.
A few years ago, I acquired a copy of Jimo Perini’s 1969 cable car book entitled San Francisco Grip. Jack, in
his own ‘willing but reluctant’ manner, graciously autographed the pages that Mr. Perini dedicated to him. I felt badly for putting Jack on the spot because he seemed a bit embarrassed, yet I sensed that he felt honored, too. Mr. Perini’s words couldn’t say it any better (p. 94).
“This man knows more about the world’s transportation systems than any man I know. He can tell
you about the electrified railways of Italy, what’s wrong with the New York subway system, and, piece by piece, the cable cars of San Francisco. When I’m President, Jack Smith will be my Secretary of Transportation.”
—Steven Souza
Chronicle reporter Carl Nolte penned a great tribute to Jack’s skill when Jack retired from Muni in 1994. You can read it at streetcar.org.
