Birth date: Apr 22, 1932 Death date: Jun 24, 2016
Robert Terry Smothers, age 84 of Covington, LA died on Friday, June 24, 2016, at his residence after a long battle with Parkinson’s Disease. Born, Friday, April 22, 1932 in Richton, MS to Robert Edward Smothers and Lela Mae Terry Read Obituary
When I was 19 years old, I worked for Bob at Allied Loudspeaker. Bob , at the time, had two jobs...one at the LA. Wildlife and Fisheries and the other as co-owner of Allied.
Whenever Bob arrived at Allied, he was always upbeat, friendly and great to talk to. He never was in a bad mood and was always ready for a good joke.
I was always impressed with his extensive knowledge of electronics which was something I knew nothing about ( I was a salesman ).
A couple of years later I lost contact with Bob until I saw him singing in the choir at St. Joseph Church in New Orleans.
I really liked Bob. He will be missed.
Don Randon
Where do I begin? I have known Bob for over sixty years and the ventures we have taken together no one would ever believe. We went to the swamps of Westwego to catch crawfish in order to sell them to T. Pittaris Restaurant for fifteen cents per pound. Also we caught various snakes to sell to the Snake Farm. We hitchhiked to Gatlinburg TN. when we were about seventeen years of age. It was the time when we slept in the dead stump of a tree on Blanket Mountain because it was freezing cold. I introduced Bob to Anne when we were on a blind date and I remember standing in Bob and Anne's wedding at Mater Dolorosa Church. Our adventures over the years were too many to explain. I remember vividly the births of his lovely children and all of the fun times we had with them. I also remember the trip to Mexico many years ago where we had a blast visiting sites. We have a friendship that will last forever. Goodbye my friend and Buddy. I will miss you, and hopefully we will meet together again!!!! Chuck Hawkshead
Bobby was 10 and 1/2 years older than I am. I was seven when he joined the Air Force, so he and I only lived under the same roof for seven years. One of my fondest memories of my big brother was when he flew to California in 1966 to drive with me back to New Orleans after my husband, Stanley Johnson, was killed in Vietnam. I was in deep mourning for Stan, but he managed to keep my spirits up and let me cry when I needed to and talk when I wanted to and be silent for long stretches of time. He was the perfect big brother on the trip and just what I needed.
