David Tod Schmitt, 1924-2014

24004 - David in high school - color corrected

David Schmitt as a student at New Canaan High School, c. 1940.

David T. Schmitt died on Saturday, March 22, 2014, after a long illness.  He was born on July 8, 1924 in Norwalk, Connecticut, the fifth son of Carl and Gertrude Schmitt.

At the age of eighteen, while still in high school, he was drafted into the U. S. Army, beginning his service in March 1943 as a member of the legendary 10th Mountain Division (the “ski troops”).  After a year and a half of training in the mountains of Colorado, he served in Italy along with his brother Peter as a Technical Sergeant (Communications) in the Headquarters Division, seeing combat in the Italian campaign of 1944-45.  

In April 1953 he married Louise Stitt; they would have eight children.  During the 1960s he worked alongside his brother John at Thomas More School, a Catholic boys’ boarding school in Harrisville, New Hampshire.  After the school closed in 1971, he moved his family to Canaan, Connecticut, where he lived the rest of his life.  

David Schmitt is remembered by his family and friends as a loving, humble, and wise man.   In his last years he showed remarkable patience and cheerfulness in the face of illness and the loss of his beloved wife, Louise.  

His funeral mass was celebrated by his son, Rev. Thomas Schmitt, at St. Joseph’s Catholic Church in Canaan on March 26.  He is survived by his daughter and six sons, as well as his sister, five of his brothers, and numerous grandchildren.  His was preceded in death by his wife of over 50 years, and son David, Jr., who died in 2007.

A number of years ago he wrote down some recollections of his father and of his life growing up in a family of ten children in Silvermine, Connecticut.  We will be highlighting these stories here in the next few weeks.  A particularly vivid memory concerning himself and his father he called “Bear in the Coal  Bin.”

33003 - CROPPED

David (second from left) and his brothers Peter, Jacob, John and Carl, Jr., about the time of “Bear in the Coal Bin” took place.

When I was about six it was my job in the family to get the coal from the separate cellar (in the hillside) where the coal bin was located. You had to go out the front door and around the side of the house to get there.  I was afraid of that cellar because I was afraid of the dark, and the coal bin was always dark because there was no light bulb in there.  The question was, was I more afraid of Dad’s spanking for disobeying, or the dark–it was clearly a case of which was the worse! Besides, I was sure there were bears in the coal-bin.

So I hesitated in getting the coal—no one in the family knew why.  I guess they thought I was just lazy; they had no reason to think otherwise.  I used to fill the scuttle half-full at a time because otherwise it was too heavy for me to get it off the ground to carry.

One day it was about noon and mother was still begging me to please “get the coal.”  When Dad came home from his studio for supper, I made the mistake of letting him hear Mom still asking me to “get the coal.”  He didn’t tolerate disobedience, and he taught me right then and there that Fathers should be feared much more than either imaginary bears or the dark.  I got the worse licking I ever got from him!  Later I found myself getting the coal in the dark, bears and all.  I was no longer afraid of the dark or the bears—it was amazing!

34001 - little David and Jacob - CROPPED

David (left) and his brother Jacob, 1928.

16 thoughts on “David Tod Schmitt, 1924-2014

  1. I’m so sorry to hear that Uncle Dave passed away. He was always so kind to me during our visits to New Hampshire. Thank you for your story about Uncle Dave. Perhaps that is where my fear of the dark comes from. It must be in the genes. I am looking forward to the next one

  2. He wrote up quite a long collection of reminiscences, as well as a memoir of his life in the ski troops. What he writes of his father is particularly moving, I think. I hope to post that next week.

  3. Thanks Sam. I can hear him telling this around the dining room table when we were younger. At the end of our meals we would beg him to tell us stories of when he was a kid OR when he was in the army. He would & we would be entertained for hours with great laughter.

  4. My heart goes out to Uncle Dave’s family. Though I was very small, my memories of Uncle Dave were of such a sweet and gentle soul. I remember when I was 5, we went to Thomas Moore School. I started wandering down the road and the boys told me there were bears in the woods that would “get me”. I didn’t even know what a bear was but I knew not to wander alone down that road anymore! (It was the road to Uncle Dave and aunt Louise’s house…) Much heartfelt love to all.
    Suzanne Schmitt

  5. “Uncle Dave” was a beloved teacher and mentor at Thomas More School in NH back in the ’60’s. I’ll never forget Sunday afternoons at his home with a zillion little kids and a great meal from Aunt Louise. A man always ready with a kind word of encouragement for any student. Heaven is richer today.

  6. Pingback: Wisdom on Wednesdays—Beyond wealth | Carl Schmitt: The Vision of Beauty

  7. Pingback: The Schmitt Kids | Carl Schmitt: The Vision of Beauty

  8. Pingback: Dad: A civilized man | Carl Schmitt: The Vision of Beauty

  9. I was sorry to hear from Tony and Peggy Evans that Dave Schmitt had died. As a young math teacher duringt the first three years at the Thomas More School I remember Dave as enormously kind. No matter what needed to be done he was always willing. I know he will be missed by his family.

  10. I recently acquired a beautiful watercolor picture signed by an artist named David Schmitt. It is a pastel watercolor of a serene countryside. It came from a house built in 1910 but no one knew any history of the house or inhabitants. I am trying to find information about the artist and wondered if your relative David Schmitt ever painted?

  11. Pingback: Brothers in arms: Peter and David Schmitt in Italy, 1945—Part 4 – Carl Schmitt: The Vision of Beauty

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