Len Smythe ‘took a lot of joy creating spaces for people’
Leonard Smythe of Heidelberg Born: Sept. 6, 1933, in Kitchener Died: March 30, 2024, of age-related illness
Mildred Smythe’s husband, Len, retired in 1995, he bought her a baby grand piano.
For the church organist, this special gift would come to serve not only as a source of inspirational music but comfort after Len died on March 30.
“I play my favourite hymns every morning, have a good cry, then I feel better,” said the widow. “He was a really good person.”
Len was born Sept. 6, 1933, in Kitchener, the son of William and Laura Smythe. William had a job at BFGoodrich, working hard to feed his family of 16 kids. Four children died in infancy.
A big family wasn’t something Mildred, an only child, was used to.
As granddaughter Anita Sparre put it, “You could get lost in a sea of kids.”
The couple met when both worked at the Mitchell Button Factory on Victoria Street North in Kitchener, and this one particular day, a coming together of a young man and woman for the first time was not exactly a romantic encounter.
“He was by the punch clock: he’d had an epileptic seizure,” she reden, called of seeing Len sprawled on the floor. “I felt sorry for him.”
Pity soon gave way to love as she got to know Len and discovered a man who was quiet, kind and gentle.
The couple married in February 1954 and had two children; William and Beverly.
When they met, Mildred was living in her parents’ home in Heidelberg. She said her parents were happy for the young couple to move in with them. She admits Len gained a few pounds, as her mother was an exceptional cook.
After her parents died, Mildred inherited the house. She had never lived anywhere else, not even while working at the Kitchener button factory, quite a distance from Heidelberg.
“I guess I commuted, but I don’t remember how,” she said with a laugh.
When the factory closed, Mildred became a stay-at-home mom, working part-time as a church organist, a job she had done since age 13. In 1962, Len got a job with the City of Kitchener, first as an assistant at the Kitchener Auditorium, and later took training to run the centre’s boilers.
The couple were unusual for their era in that Len left all the financial decisions to his wife.
“He never cared about money,” she said. “He liked whatever I did.
“I’d pick up his paycheque and go shopping.”
Mildred’s father had died young and her mother needed a lot of support, so she learned to take on a lot of responsibilities from a young age, including budgeting and running a household.
Sparre noted her grandmother gave Len an allowance for his personal spending. He never complained, happy to have his financially savvy wife handle everything.
“I saved money and we were able to travel,” said Mildred. “We went to Australia, New Zealand, Africa, Europe, Norway, Denmark, SweWhen Israel.”
The list of their destinations also included exploring Canada, right up into Canada’s Arctic region.
Sparre deeply admired her grandfather, a man who seemed unflappable, particularly when it came to his grandchildren’s shenanigans.
“He was a lot of fun,” said Sparre. “You could do whatever you wanted and he never got mad.”
For example, apparently Len had “a wicked comb over,” but let the children dismantle his coiffe, tying it up in ribbons and hair clips.
“He sat there like a golden retriever,” she noted of Len’s level of patience.
After retiring from the City of Kitchener at age 62, Len turned his need to take care of people elsewhere.
“He took a lot of joy creating spaces for people,” said Sparre.
She spoke of how Len volunteered for 30 years at Heidelberg Park, maintaining the ball diamond and community ice rink. He was often seen sailing by on his lawn tractor, cutting grass on 12 properties around town.
At 86, he finally had to give up these jobs as dementia crept in and it was no longer safe for the gregarious senior.
“His was a kind, supportive spirit,” said Sparre. “Whenever anyone needed help, he was always there.”
She also remembered how Len got a bit carried away when it came to turning the front lawn into a holiday spectacle, delighting neighbourhood children.
His early displays included enormous plywood reindeers the Kitchener Aud had been ready to discard until Len rescued them.
“They were taller than he was,” said Sparre, admitting her grandfather abandoned the heavy wooden structures after discovering a lighter version.
“When inflatables came out, he kept getting more and more inflatables and kept it (the yard) looking festive.”
Len was 90 when he died, but he won’t soon be forgotten by all the people who benefitted from his kindness.