To call Smiley Anders a south Louisiana institution is, if anything, to understate what he meant to many readers.
For the majority of his five-decade career, Smiley's column delighted newspaper readers with its signature blend of quirky, amusing and Louisiana-flavored vignettes, most of them submitted by readers and topped with a pithy witticism from Smiley himself. For many, the column was as much a part of the morning routine as a cup of coffee and breakfast.
In its way, Smiley's more than 12,000 columns served as a sort of early social media, where Baton Rouge-area readers read a local newsfeed of what others were up to. Unlike today's social media, however, Smiley's columns almost always elicited a grin or a chuckle and made us grateful to live in this community, despite its challenges. Put simply, they brought us together.
We agree with reader Mark Couhig, who wrote on Facebook that Smiley wrote "as if everyone in Baton Rouge knew and liked everyone else."
Smiley's oft-nostalgic blurbs regularly included stories of people committing random acts of kindness, and his "Special People Department" took note of important milestones in readers' lives. Some of his favorite stories were "fish out of water" tales of Louisianans in other places or of newcomers discovering something unique about south Louisiana. He cultivated a devoted group of regular contributors, who delighted in seeing their submissions published.
Through it all, Smiley wove certain threads: kindness, humor and an abiding appreciation of what makes Louisiana special.
Those traits helped keep his column relevant and interesting through the years. They also saw his audience grow into Acadiana and, after the Advocate expanded its footprint in 2012, to New Orleans.
As his colleagues, we mourn Smiley's death last week at the age of 86. But we take comfort in knowing that as he approached the end, his essential outlook remained intact. As he told The Advocate's Jan Risher, "if you've got a name like Smiley, you can't open a funeral home."
Smiley will never be replaced, and it would be folly to try. But that doesn't mean that what he brought to his life and writing — humor, kindness, a love for his state and people and a willingness to enjoy the moment — must go with him.
In that way, Smiley's life's work still holds important lessons. Going back and reading columns from weeks, months or even years ago uncovers ageless truths: Even though times and technology change, people still have the capacity to help each other out, to share an unexpected laugh even in tough circumstances and to see the bright spots that life can bring.
We may never write, speak or party like Smiley. But we should all strive to live like he did.