The following is an edited excerpt of the life narrative that will be read during the 2025 Gold Star Hall Ceremony.
This narrative uses many excerpts from the fall 2024 IowaStater magazine written by Tom Kroeschell with permission.
Born in 1919 in Boone, Thomas Smith lived only 17 miles west of Iowa State University, where he would later make a name for himself. His father ran a florist business, influencing Tom's decision to study horticulture at Iowa State College when he enrolled there in 1938.
Smith was dedicated to football, earning a position on the state high school football honor roll in 1936 and a mention in the Des Moines Register. He trained using spare telephone poles the Boone School Board purchased for use as tackling dummies.
He had eyed a roster spot on the Cyclones football team.
"When I first saw Tom, he was wearing an oversized pair of pants and a torn green sweater," said his former coach, "Smilin'" Jim Yeager. "He was the most gosh awful looking freshman I've ever seen."
Yeager gave Smith the toughest test he could imagine, pitting him in practice against the heart of the Iowa State line: College Football Hall of Fame guard Ed Bock and future NFL regular Clyde Shugart, who pushed him up and down the field.
After several series, with a serious face, Smith announced, "Any time you guys have had enough, just tell me and I'll ease up on you."
He had passed the test. Smith was one of only 16 sophomores to earn a 1938 varsity roster spot. With Bock and Shugart in the line and ably led by nifty All-American halfback Everett "Rabbit" Kischer, the 1938 Cyclones far exceeded the expectations of nearly everyone.
Excelling on and off the field
For the next two years, Smith was at the core of Iowa State teams that went 2-7 in 1939 and 4-5 in 1940. During his senior season, Smith called signals for the team, a rarity for an offensive lineman. Limited substitution rules meant Smith was often choosing what play would be run by the Cyclones offense. Media stories about Smith abounded.
Early in the 1939 season, Yeager was preaching the importance of speed to his team. The following day Smith showed up at practice with a shaved head.
"Coach, I want you to know I'm sacrificing everything for speed," Smith said.
Smith's outgoing, upbeat personality made him popular with his teammates and fellow students. He lived at his parents' home in Boone to save money and would invite Cyclones over to enjoy a home-cooked meal and host teammates for weekends at the Smith cottage in Okoboji.
Smith was a renowned storyteller who liked to have fun, but also had a serious side - duty was important. In 1940, he was helping his injured father run the family business, including selling corsages on campus, while handling his academic and athletic obligations.
George Veenker, who was Iowa State's athletics director from 1933-45, summed up Smith's personal brand: "Tom was a manly sort of fellow, with a lot of personality, very level headed but always enjoying a joke."
No doubt, Smith was ready for anything. He was team captain in 1940 and during the 1940-41 year, he was named Iowa State's Athlete of the Year.
A game changer
Like many students, Smith's priorities changed after the 1941 attack on Pearl Harbor, marking the official entrance of the United States into World War II. He graduated in spring of 1942 with his degree in horticulture and joined the U.S. Navy.
He quickly acclimated to the service as an ensign in the Naval Reserve. He entered flight training in lighter-than-air vehicles. The U.S. war effort did not produce enough planes to patrol the entire U.S. Pacific shoreline, so airships were used to meet the demand.
He was part of the Company D, 2nd Battalion, attending St. Mary's Navy Pre-Flight School in Moraga, Calif. After a year of grueling training and tests, Smith made it through the program and was promoted to lieutenant. He was stationed in the California area for the next year.
As part of the domestic U.S. Navy, Smith's job was to monitor the coast for enemy ships and submarines. Most of these patrols were conducted in the air, a critical part of his job.
In the fall of 1944, Smith was on temporary duty in Delmar, Calif., after nightfall on Oct. 17. He was one of seven men on the King-111 airship during a routine air patrol mission, when a tragic error led to the airship crashing.
The official report states that due to foggy conditions aggravating a navigation problem, the ship thought they were still over open water - but were flying over the blacked-out Catalina Island, 22 miles from Los Angeles. They flew into treetops which tore off the left engine causing the ship to crash.
All of the men were initially able to escape the crash. When they went to investigate the site, however, the fuel tanks exploded and killed all but one of the men. Smith died at 25 years old.
His remains were transported to Boone for his funeral and he was laid to rest in Linwood Park Cemetery near his mother and father.
