Reflections On Two Chief Engineers
When editor Frank McCormack approached me about writing a piece about my father, Edward “Smitty” Smith, for this edition of The Waterways Journal, I told him that I would have to think about it. Dad, in my biased opinion, was one of the best engineers I had ever been around, and even as a youth it became apparent to me that he could repair almost anything. Born in rural West Virginia in 1932, when he was growing up during the Depression, his stepfather had at different times a plumbing shop and a welding shop, things that helped ground him in areas an engineer would need to know to keep all the systems aboard a towboat functioning.
He served in the U.S. Army during the Korean conflict and was a combat veteran, earning three Bronze Stars. Following that service, he worked in the sign business and became a licensed electrician, in addition to becoming proficient in bending neon glass for signs. In the late 1960s, he went to work for Merdie Boggs & Sons in my hometown of Catlettsburg, Ky., and later was with C&J Towing as a port engineer. He went to work at Madison Coal when the company purchased the 3,200 hp. Crescent City in 1986. My father would spend the next 20 years there. He would try to retire, but he always wound up going back, in later years often to help train young engineers, which he very much enjoyed doing.
In addition to being a master “fix-it,” he was also a great dad. In 1971, he and my mother agreed to serve as some of the chaperones (something he later swore he would never do again!) when my high school band was invited to march in a Mardi Gras parade. A highlight of the trip for me was a group of us riding the Streckfus excursion boat President. It was still a steam sidewheeler at the time, and while most were enjoying the sights of the New Orleans harbor, Pop was below, watching those big Barnes engines work. Dad was proud that all three of his sons became river pilots and captains.
I felt that I was not the best to write much about Pop, so I turned to someone who knew him about as well as I did: Alan Hall, who recently retired as vice president of operations at what is now Amherst Madison.
Chief Tom DeHart was Quietly Efficient
Another individual that immediately comes to mind when talking about “old-time” engineers is Thomas A. DeHart. Tom, from Morehead, Ky., was born in Honolulu, Hawaii, in 1935, while his father was serving in the Navy there. His dad had retired, and the family was back in Morehead when World War II broke out. Since his dad had been involved with submarines, including many of the earliest the Navy had, he was called back up as an instructor.
Tom grew up on the family farm and then served in the U.S. Army. Following his discharge in the late 1950s, he was searching for a job and went to Ashland, Ky., to apply for work with the Ashland Oil & Refining Company. Among the jobs listed was one for a river deckhand, and that was what he applied for. He was first trained on the Harbor Point, which was the harbor boat for the Catlettsburg area. He then was assigned to his first line boat, the original Paul Blazer.
Tom worked his way up and set his sights on the engineroom. He became an engineer and worked on all the boats in the Ashland fleet. He spent many years on the original Valvoline as chief, and when the new Valvoline was under construction, he spent several weeks at the shipyard as the boat was nearing completion to familiarize himself with it, as well as to make sure the systems were as they should be.
Tom was one of the most quietly efficient engineers I ever worked with. Boats that he was assigned to seldom had breakdowns because he would fix things before they broke. If a boat were to have a long lock delay, it was standard procedure to let Tom know because he would take advantage of any delay to perform maintenance.
Capt. Marty Leake worked with Tom for many years, and when asked his thoughts on him, Leake said, “One of the first things that comes to mind is that he was resourceful. He wouldn’t throw out anything that he thought might be useful.” Leake also talked about Tom’s sense of humor and how he would often have one line “zingers” to amuse the crew. Capt. Leake said that, in his mind, Tom was “an engineer’s engineer.”
This writer has often experienced the same in working with Tom. He did not have to rely on alarms to tell him when something was wrong, as he seemed to be in tune with the machinery and could sense the slightest change. The only time I can recall him being irritable was when the new Valvoline came out. With everything under warranty, he was not allowed to adjust anything.
After his retirement from what was then Marathon Ashland, he worked several years as a fill-in engineer for Madison Coal. He worked with a wide range of marine engines over his career and spent a lot of time on the St. Louis Zephyr when Ashland was operating it. That boat had direct-reversable Superior engines, and though Tom had already been an engineer before serving aboard the Zephyr, he always told me, “That’s where I got my education.” Those types of experiences made him appreciate working on the venerable J.S. Lewis while with Madison Coal.
Tom was well read, and I always looked forward to his daily visits to the pilothouse. He enjoyed teaching younger individuals, and rather than just tell them things when they asked about systems or procedures, he would say, “Let’s go see.” He would show them how things worked. It was obvious that he really enjoyed his work.
Chief Tom DeHart passed away on November 4, 2023, at the age of 88.
Tom and my dad were two of a kind. They are greatly missed but live on in the many individuals they effectively trained to follow in their footsteps.
