esley was a river guide for Arizona Raft Adventures from the early seventies to 1990. On March 31, 2000, he died of massive liver failure at the Veterans Hospital, Prescott, Arizona. He was laid to rest on April 4th, in the family plot in Williams, Arizona.
“Alive Below Crystal” (abc) was coined by Wesley Smith. He once observed at an abc party to a bunch of guides, “remember, that no matter where you are in life you are always above Crystal.” Years later, John Running asked Wesley if there was ever a time when you were not above Crystal. “Yeah,” said Wesley quick as a flash, “when you're right in the fuckin' middle of it.”
What follows is what some of his friends had to say about him. I have had to edit for space. My apologies to the writers whose eloquent words were shortened. Wesley Smith will have a web site soon, placed by Thomas Conners. Please submit stories to boyofoto@infomagic.com.
Donations in Wesley's name will be gratefully received by the Whale Foundation at 7890 S. Avenida Bonita, Tucson, az 85747.

Dave Edwards

served in sergeant Wesley Smith's squad, Second Squad, Third Platoon, Company A, Fourth Batillion, 47th Infantry in the Mekong Delta, Republic of Vietnam. The men selected him as squad leader after Wesley's close friend, Sergeant Reggie Powell was killed. It affected him badly, always. Wesley instilled in us an innate trust. He led us footstep by footstep in the jungle. It was rough. Wesley knew where to walk, which way to go. You follow him and you'd do well. He was the best you could get. You know, in “Nam” you take your chances but if you had to take'em, take'em with Wesley. And another thing, he would have absolutely given his life any time, anywhere, for any one of us. He was like that and everybody knew it. We'd be given a job to do and he'd lead us through it…and bring us back alive. The most dangerous job was walking point. As a sergeant he wasn't supposed to do that but he did. He could find the booby traps and sense ambush sites. He was really like that. He had a huge talent; he could bring people together. He was like nobody else. After the war sometimes I'd dream about him and “Nam” then call him up. And I swear to you, he'd be expecting the call! It was weird.

Thomas Conners

esley was a bit of a mystery. He was one of several unforgettable characters that I worked with in the early seventies. It was a time when many of us were trying to figure out what river guiding was all about…. While the rest of us were busy giving people what we perceived as the “Colorado River experience,” like teaching them to row and paddle…Wesley was looking after their more basic needs like patching up feet and setting up tents. He was able to be present with everyone. I believe that Rob Elliott recognized this special trait and gave Wesley the benefit of the doubt beyond what he may not have given others…. Wesley had an elusive magic about him but at the same time he was always doing battle with several dragons, dragons that many of us know. Let's hope the rest of us have better luck. I for one will miss him, and will never forget him.

Don Briggs

went and saw wesley today. He is dying. He has courted oblivion and torn open his shirt exposing his chest, taunting and pleading for some invisible executioner. I am weak and afraid of what it means, the commitment to a life of ferocious intensity—it means embracing his own form of self-destruction as entirely as he did….
The unfuckingbelieveable beauty that was Wesley has been fading for some time now. We remember the intensity, the painful…excruciating beauty that being with and around him was. He was my mentor and I worshiped him and adored him and he put his arm around me like a big brother and soaked me in his radiance when I was so hopelessly lost and alone and no idea of who, when, where, or what was next. He taught me things that come out only at my most holy moments and even how to walk and talk and breathe and I have never in my life had a poignant or tender or spiritual moment without thinking of him. When I was most alone and lost I would call him up again, like soldiers praying for the first time on the battlefield or pleading with God to bring back a life, or a lover and he'd answer the phone…. When he lived in New York City for awhile cab drivers would bring him home and help him inside and tell his friend Jim, “There's no charge for this one.” …For most people he was so powerful and tender that you could not but love him, but I did meet one or two exceptions…they will grieve the deepest…. He would transform people like an emotional Lazarus. For example, one time on the river he was singing only the beginnings of Christmas carols all night at the top of his lungs because they were the only songs he knew. An enraged passenger and father stormed out to the boats to shut him up and after a lengthy philosophical diatribe, the father spent the rest of the night singing with him, naked and painted with hematite, adding the verses that Wesley had forgotten. I have never known anyone, not even therapists and psychiatrists, so able to affect and change lives—except his own…. I don't know what is going to happen to me now. The Grand Canyon is a lesser place now. I don't want him to go. I don't want our trip to end.

Kevin Johnson

could write a dozen stories about Wesley. That's not hard to do when you think enough of someone to choose his name for your first born child. My wife and I named our son Wesley in 1982. I was faced this week with explaining to an almost eighteen-year-old the symbolism of his name-sake leaving life as we know it by the chronic use of an intoxicating substance. This is in a society where most normal kids his age are experimenting with intoxicating substances. So we talked about a really bad year in Vietnam—to witness the deaths of hundreds of companions, then thirty years to drown the demons. Who can ever know what he endured, and at the same time, he gave us so much. …Wesley was a source of inspiration and joy and spiritual direction for dozens of guides…. Years after a trip, passengers might not remember anybody else's name but they always remembered Wesley. He was there for them in so many ways, always sharing, always teaching, walking in beauty. I told my son he was named for a man who touched thousands of people spiritually. He said he feels pretty good about that…. What a funny man, so silly at times. And then when you'd least expect it and need it the most, out stepped a spiritual master to defuse a crisis with such amazing skill.

George Bain

esley was for me a sacred clown, a kashari, a mud head, a coyote, trickster, joker. He was mischievous but never malicious. I feel privileged to have known and worked with him through the years.… He was able to open people up to themselves and the experience of being in the Canyon and on the river. There was nothing contrived or pretentious in his being. As one passenger put it,” Wesley is full of magic, his feet don't touch the ground.”

Bob Melville