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Milton H. "Milt" Smith

MERRIMAC, MA: Milton H. "Milt" Smith died at his home on December 11, 2010 with his wife of sixty-one years, Janet (MacGregor) Smith, and all of his children at his side.

He was born in Haverhill on September 28, 1928, and was the son of the late Annie and James Smith.
Milt graduated from Haverhill High School, Class of 1946, and Stockbridge School of Agriculture in 1948.
His first business was Smitty's Sack Service which he started as a teenager. He soon was the proud owner of the Smith Companies of Plaistow, NH; McGregor Smith Motor Co., Timberlane Transportation, Watson Transportation, Bus& Bodies, Inc., Essex Coach, Inc., (Kinson Bus Lines), First
Class Coach & Equipment, Inc., Interstate Parts Distributors, Inc., Olde Yankee Transportation Services,
Inc., Royal Limousine, Inc., The Tire Store, Truck Sales& Service, Inc., Bus Sales Division, and Asia Motor Company.

Milt had a vision for a flat front school bus so that the driver had a clear view of the students crossing in front of the bus. He could not convince the U.S. bus body manufacturers at the time. So he flew to Korea to have his own bus chassis manufactured. Now the flat front design is an industry standard.

Dad,
To all of his children there is no one greater, Milton Henry Smith, was to us our creator. So big and so strong of body and mind, mister fix it for things and so loving and kind. He built his big empire, so business wise, but the most pride for him, was his family size. So proud was he, the great provider for all, he gave us fond memories, we all had a ball. His tractors, and coots, and cycles and cars, the go carts and boats never took us real far. He taught us to drive a standard you know, with a quarter on the dashboard so we would drive slow. We drove 495 before it was complete, and we drove around Pines Speedway, hold on to your seat! He built us a ski tow and dug us a pond, he gave us a swimming pool, with his magic wand. He made sure we had goats, chickens, horses and cats, and when there were too many, well let's leave it at that. Mystery rides to fishing spots, to see horses, to watch trucks; we would go down dirt roads and most assuredly get stuck.

He got us stuck in the tractor, the coot, the jeep, and getting them all unstuck wasn't cheap. All of us had bikes, his with a seat on the back, and we would ride them forever in a great giant pack. He took us swimming, all of us, dragged to the "Y", and then we went out to eat and shared one pizza pie. One year he forgot Easter, maybe too busy, or too poor, and we all shared one chocolate egg and nothing more.
He took us to Florida, in a wagon with a rack, it had a TV, and it rained dogs and cats. He dragged us through the hot sand so at Seabrook Beach we could swim, and we'd hit the Hampton Arcade rides on a
whim.

He drove us to Ossippee and we would park under the pines, we could walk to the lake dragging our floats behind. He showed us the minnows near the beach with no shells, and we would sit and marvel at the Pine Cove Motel. He made us love fires and fireworks and flames, we held on to sparklers before we could spell our own names. He would give a pat on the hand or a kiss on the head, and a rub raw scrub in the bath before bed. When we were sick he would sit by our bed, and pour rubbing alcohol on our back until cool was our head. Sunday meant Sharon and on taking her back, we would visit Nana and eat that cracker cream cheese snack. Christmas was magic, so excited we got sick, how he secretly got all the presents under the tree was his trick. We would wait with him in line at the ice cream stand and watch as he took the first bite of our cone in his hand. He hung up that hammock thing up high on the porch and we banged hard into the house when we swung back and forth. That milk box he kept in the front by the door, we climbed through and climbed through till we fit no more. He taught us to fish and the worm how to hook, and we remember the worm guts and all the worm gook. He put us through college without blinking an eye, the thousands he spent makes me pause and sigh. As we got older, with kids of our own, we hoped and wished for him to get them on Sundays and take them to breakfast alone.

We all felt so special, so loved and adored, we all felt like only's and not just one of a hoard. You can do anything and everything he would say time and again, try it and do it, you make it happen then. He taught the importance of family as our reason to live, he said love, time and honor and respect for them give. It was never about money, having it or not, not what he made and not what he bought. It was the time he gave us and oh so much fun, I will cherish each moment, each and every one. We love him so much for all that he has given and we wait now for our creator, Milt Smith to be risen.

MacGregor Smith and Rhonda, Alison Smith Gadd and Steve, Stephanie Smith Cooke and Richard, Tracy Smith Dickens, Cabot B. Smith and Tracey, Benton Smith and Elizabeth, Treasure Smith Seymour and Jonathan, Milton Smith and Beth. We love our Papa, Tucker Smith, Chelsea Smith, Tristan Smith, Kallan Smith, MacGregor Smith, Ashley Sigsworth, English Gadd, Tayber Gadd, Smith Gadd, Decatur Gadd, Phaelan Gadd, Autumn Gadd, Cameron Cooke, Channing Cooke, Janet Dickens, Kinneal Dickens, Cabot Smith, Sheridan Smith, Austin Smith, Benton Smith, Christian Smith, Donovan Smith, Sterling Seymour, Ellison Seymour, Sage Seymour, Stratton Seymour, Brighton Seymour, Tenning Seymour, Cashman Smith, Wynter Smith and Ryeland Smith.

We love our great grand Papa, Madelyn Smith, Myer Smith, MacNeil Smith, MacEachern Sigsworth and Breelyn Flammia. Milt also left his sister Marjorie Ada Brewer.

He was predeceased by his daughter, Sharon Anne Smith, sister, Virginia Rowe, brother, Bud Smith and
brother-in-law, Malcolm MacGregor.

The private memorial service celebrating Milt's life will be held on January 2, 2011, at the Linwood Chapel; for which he was proud to be a part of. Arrangements by Dole, Childs& Shaw Funeral Home, 148 Main Street, Haverhill.

Online condolence may be sent to www.dcsfuneralhome.com

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