By any standards one of the most attractive churches in the Church of Ireland is the Church of the Ascension, Rathdaire, just off the main Cork/Dublin road at Ballybrittas, Co Laois. It was there, just over 50 years ago, that Jim Smyth and Sally Cobbe were joined together in holy matrimony, a union ended suddenly and sadly by Jim's death.
For many, contact with Jim came about through involvement with education. The Church of Ireland owes much to what might be described as the Cork education nursery. It used to be said that when the Welsh rugby team wanted an out-half they simply went to the nearest coal-mine and shouted down the mine-shaft. Similarly with teachers in the Church of Ireland. When one is required it is to Cork that thoughts often initially turn. There have been few more illustrious products of that nursery that the young man from Clonakilty who began his teaching career in Midleton College, and after a short spell there moved to The King's Hospital in 1943.
Those were very difficult days, especially for boarding establishments, with rationing, the threat of air attack and even invasion, but Jim Smyth brought to his work in The King's Hospital a vigour and enthusiasm which did much to lift the atmosphere - not to mention his laugh, which over the years was to become a distinctive trademark. It was there that some of us made his acquaintance as pupil and teacher.
No matter what the intervening years were to hold or how long the gap might be, one thing was certain: your name would never be forgotten. His ability to recall names and events and incidents was uncanny - sometimes incidents that one would sooner have forgotten. It must have been this mental capacity that led to such success later as a bridge player, when he represented Munster.
Within the life of the school he was inspirational, in particular as a hockey coach, and many who went on to gain representative honours owe much to the basic training they received from him at Blackhall Place. As a teacher Jim Smyth had the ability, not just to impart knowledge, but to encourage his charges to go on searching and learning all through life. In other words, he pursued truth wherever it lay, and this was exemplified by his own integrity of character. While geography was his primary subject, he also taught other subjects, including RE - not the easiest of disciplines, even in those days. Yet by his sheer enthusiasm he commended the Faith, and perhaps some of those who sat at his feet owe more to him in this respect than they fully appreciated at the time. His was a robust, practical interpretation of Christianity, and something which he carried through into his retirement by his involvement with the Cheshire Homes and the time and expertise he gave to that worthy cause.
In 1960 he moved to Midleton College as headmaster, taking over from Tim West, a legend in his own lifetime. It is never easy to follow a legend, but Jim's period at Midleton College is best summed up by Prof Trevor West, one of Tim West's sons and present chairman of the board of governors. Writing in the tercentenary history he says:
"James Smyth's two decades as headmaster were a period of expansion and development unequalled in the history of the school. When he took over in 1960 enrolment was under 80; on his retirement in 1981 it was three times that number." He goes on: "His achievement was all the more remarkable in that it was carried out in an atmosphere in which the future of the College came under considerable scrutiny."
It was in fact a period of educational turmoil in secondary schools in Ireland and in the Church of Ireland in particular, and there is no doubt that the continued and progressive existence of Midleton College owes much to the tenacity of the then headmaster, Jim Smyth. After his retirement he joined the board of governors, and those who served with him in that capacity are deeply conscious of the contributions he made at that level of decision-making.
To the end - which came on August 28th last - Jim lived life to the full, supported and so often accompanied by Sally, or Sal as he always referred to her. Within that full life was a deep love of the Church of Ireland - its worship and its way of life. It was there he found a sense of security, and guidelines by which he lived and moved and had his being. It was in the context of that faith that his many friends met in Midleton church to give thanks for a life of devoted service - a life that touched for good so many lives, especially the young and impressionable - and to lay his remains to rest in the peaceful setting of St Lappan's graveyard, Little Island, not much more than the length of a hockey pitch from his ever welcoming home.
R.A.W.