Suppose it is World War II and the government has just instituted shoe rationing. Furthermore, suppose that you are a lawyer in Texas and a bit of a publicity hound, and you really don’t like wearing shoes all that much anyways.
So, what do you do?
Well, if you are Tom Smiley of Karnes County (between San Antonio and Corpus Christi), you most patriotically announce that you will be going barefoot for the duration of the rationing.
In World War II the Axis Powers controlled the area that produced most of the world’s natural rubber, so the U. S. had to rely on making synthetic rubber. That led to a shortage and hence the rationing of shoes with rubber soles (instituted October, 1942). Leather was also in short supply, since it was used for all sorts of equipment for the troops, so general rationing of shoes started in February 1943.
Here’s a little peek at some shoe stamps of the time.
Shoe Stamps
But back to Tom Smiley. Here’s a little blurb that appeared in May of 1943:
Naked Trilbies in Karnes City
Some months ago, this column reproduced a letter from Judge Tom Smiley of Karnes county concerning certain observations that had been made in this column on the subject of shoe rationing and the passing of the old-fashioned “barefoot boy with cheeks of tan.”
I do not recall exactly what the judge said in his letter, but it was something to the effect that going barefooted is good for the human constitution.
Therefore, it was with great interest this week that I read an item from the typewriter of S. D. Chesnutt, editor of The Kennedy Advance, who chronicles his observations under the heading, “Around and About with S. D. C.”
His column, in the May 6 issue of the Advance, records the following: “Tom Smiley, former county judge of Karnes county, who has done pretty much as he damned pleased in the 50 some-odd years of his life, which included a good war record in World War No. 1, has started going barefooted, and I saw him with my own eyes yesterday walking along the streets of Karnes City in his naked trilbies.”
Fortunately, there is an unabridged dictionary in The Light office. That word “trilbies” had me buffaloed, and I would have been afraid to have reproduced that item not knowing what the word meant.
Reference to the dictionary, however, revealed to me that the word is not as daring as it sounded, and that Judge Smiley, as seen by Editor Chesnutt, had removed only his socks and shoes.
Looking it up, a “trilby” is a kind of a hat. However, “with naked trilbies” is an expression meaning barefooted. I have no idea why.
Mr. Smiley was also the subject of a Paramont News short film, “Tom Smiley — The Barefoot Judge”. It was filmed later that year (1943).
Ladies and gentlemen: Acting as toastmaster today, I take great pleasure in presenting to you Karnes county’s most rugged individualist. As everybody who has lived long in this section of the state knows, the gentleman I refer to is barefooted Judge Tom Smiley, attorney, politician and humanitarian.
Such is his repute that not long ago he was the central figure in a Hollywood film short. As usual, Judge Smiley rose to the occasion, How well he did it was recorded at the time by the editor of the local weekly in these words:
“Many of our citizens co-operated in the filming of this subject. Of course, Tom Smiley, the barefoot lawyer who is gaining popularity, was the star. One scene was enacted at our county courthouse with a judge, jury, opposing attorney, witnesses and spectators and Tom in his natural attire, barefooted, presenting the case.
“Pictures were taken of Tom doing his daily chores and walking to town with his dogs. Shots were also taken of him at his ‘Rancho Chiquito’.
“A compliment must be extended to Tom Smiley for his acting ability before the camera. He did not show any signs of nervousness.”
Actually, but this time he was no longer a judge, and had returned to lawyering. But he did run for the Texas Supreme Court in 1944 (he’d also run in 1938), with the newspapers describing him as, “Tom Smiley of Karnes. City, who went barefoot for nine months in the early part of the war to help alleviate the shortage of leather.” He lost (to Lt. Col. Gordon Simpson who was overseas fighting in the war).
After rationing ended (fall of 1945), it seems Mr. Smiley just couldn’t give it up. (Oh, don’t we know the feeling!) Here’s a story that made the rounds at the time.
Barefoot Lawyer To Keep That Way
KARNES CITY, Tex., Nov. 1 (AP)
Tom Smiley, the barefooted attorney, say he’s glad shoe rationing is over since he despises any such restrictions, but he’ll never wear ’em again.
Smiley, former county judge who asserted rationing just gave him a good excuse to take off the shoes he didn’t like anyway, has padded about town in his bare feet for more than two years now. When it freezes he puts on sandals. In this southwest Texas town it doesn’t freeze often.
“I don’t pay any attention to wet weather,” he stated.
A veteran of the last war, Smiley said he contracted bronchitis, tonsillitis and sinus trouble in France and that shoes only aggravate these disturbances.
“When I wore shoes.” he explained, “I used to cough and choke all night. Now I sleep like baby. Shoes never did me any good and I don’t ever intend to wear ’em again.”
Then in 1946 he ran for office again, this time for county attorney. What caught folks attention this time was he honesty: he said he ran for the job for the money:
Tom is now running for county attorney and he is running because the job pays $2750. He is running because the salary attracts him. Now we claim that is a breath of fresh air in our dynamic politics. Instead of telling a fairy story, instead of appealing to fancy, instead of reveling in esoteric preachments he admits the truth.
Illustration from a Tom Smiley Article
I think we can say that Tom Smiley was truly a colorful character.
Ahcuah 
That’s funny some in how it talks about him appearing in court barefoot and all. Just this past Saturday, the local county’s courthouse was the registration center for a 5K race. So it was Saturday, no official court business going on, they weren’t making anyone entering the building go through the metal detectors. But a guard from the county’s sheriff’s office refused me entry without wearing shoes. I asked him to show me something that states shoes are required clothing for the building. He refused, saying he couldn’t abandon his position to go find something like that. I flat-out told him I didn’t believe there was any such prohibition.
Unfortunately, because of time issues and really not wanting take any chances that he might try to cite me or have me arrested which would have prevented me from running in the race that I very much wanted to do, I relented to go get a pair of flip-flops.
P’d me off some, that’s for sure. I did find an email address to contact the county government and have asked if someone could actually check to see if there is any prohibition against barefoot entry for someone not attending official court business on a weekend. I don’t know how likely it is I’ll get a reply. If I get none in a few days, I may pursue it further by trying a phone number.
I was born in Karnes City in 1959. I graduated from HS in on a balmy Friday
night in. May, 1977. I left that Monday to start college at the University
of Texas to start my new life far away from tiny little berg. But throughout the 18 years of my old life in Karnes City, I’d always heard stories of the “Barefoot Judge”. I don’t remember any of the particular concerning and why he chose to go shoeless, but I could relate. As a kid, the first mild day in late February, the shoes & socks came off and the annual affair of feet meeting terra firma had begun. Shoes were an encumbrance. You see, going barefoot for the first time after the brief, but often cold winters was a rite of Seasonal passage. .
Like the smell of burning dust that came through the vents when your home’s central heating unit gets turned on after the fall’s first cold front blow’s through.
But Karnes City is close to the northern most point of South Texas. The mercury could easily reach a hundred plus degrees on consecutive days. There were stickers andfallen Mesquite branches possessed some wickedly sharp thorns, recently repaved streets, and a slew of other things made being barefoot difficult. Not to mention dog droppings snd other stuff of the”yucky” variety, that makes going barefoot unpleasant.
But if a man….a judge no less….could live and work facing the same metacarpal pains and inconveniences, so could I.
LK