Columnist Susan Snyder: Mr. Smith takes the high road

Friday, May 11, 2001 | 9:09 a.m.

Susan Snyder's column appears Tuesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Reach her at snyder@lasvegassun.com or 259-4082.

Roy Smith is one of life's remarkable people.

You know the type. They move through society doing good deeds here and there simply because they can, not because someone is looking. You never know where you'll find one.

And not many people see Smith as he rummages for aluminum cans in the trash bins along Interstate 15 between Overton and Mesquite.

One of the places he stops is Exit 100, where a tiny, lonely road heads off across the desert to the old railroad watering stops of Elgin and Carp.

The road isn't a heavily traveled one, says a Nevada Highway Patrol trooper who scouts the area. It's only paved a little way before it turns into a rocky, dusty truck trail that disappears into the horizon.

Two battered trash cans sit in the wide spot where the exit ramp curves onto this road. Sometimes motorists stop to stretch or let their dogs run.

On the last Saturday in April one of those people was a woman driving an older sedan with a German shepherd in the front seat, a cat in the back and California license plates on the bumpers. The temperature outside was pushing 90, but the woman wore long pants and a tunic-type sweater.

"I moved to Nebraska," she said. "I stayed a week. That was it. I'm moving back to California."

She said she was ill that morning and had become separated from the couple who were traveling in tandem with her. She had stopped to let her dog out and see whether they, too, had stopped to stretch. She pushed and pulled until the dog was back on the seat, then slid behind the wheel.

"No, no. It's too hot to lay on Mommy's lap, Sweetie," she cooed, and drove off.

The road was visited by another wayward figure when Smith pulled up minutes later in a shiny white, late-model sedan. He seemed an unlikely candidate to be digging through trash bins along a highway. He certainly didn't look as if he needed the money.

But there he was, car door open, air conditioner running and up to his elbow in trash. Wind whipped at the plastic bag he clutched in his hand.

"They're for the senior center in Overton," Smith said.

He explained he works in the center's kitchen four hours a day, five days a week. Two days a week he drives to Mesquite for breakfast, hitting the trash cans on one side of the road going one direction and stopping at the others on the way back.

Smith said he really doesn't pay attention to how many he collects each day. He figures it's a lot. The only tally he cares about is what ends up in the bank.

"Last year we sold $3,000 worth. And we're up to $1,000 this year already," Smith said, and his arm disappeared again into the can's depths.

"When I get home I pull all the tabs off and send them to the Ronald McDonald House," he said. "One tab is one minute on a (kidney) dialysis machine for a kid."

The whole trip usually lasts about four hours, give or take.

"If I stand here and talk to you, it takes longer," Smith said.

Hint taken.

He hopped back into his car, and another one of life's remarkable people rolled on down the highway.

You never know where you'll find one.