But to Smith, who must have X-ray vision when it comes to seeing the good in young people, those qualities aren't buried at all. "We don't have any bad kids, you know," he explained. "We just have kids who do bad things. And everybody's screaming for their neck. But when it comes home, Monday morning, in the dean's office, and you look eye to eye with this creature, you say, 'You're a damn fool for what you did. This is terrible. There are consequences for what you do.' But please, you've got to save his butt because he just did a dumb thing. . . . There are so many people out there who have made such great lives for themselves. If you weren't careful, you could have screwed that up. Be careful, because here's a very precious thing and we can break it."

That describes Smith's attitude toward students and toward Colby itself--a precious, always growing thing that must be carefully tended lest you kill it. Protecting Colby from those who would, with the best intentions, steer it wrong is one of Smith's more subtle but valuable contributions. "His genius, I think, is that he does understand the place so well," said President William "Bro" Adams. "And that's not to say Earl doesn't have his criticisms of Colby. One of the things that I admire about him is that, while he has a lot of love and affection for the place and is thoroughly of it, he's also able to see it critically."

Smith as advisor to a Colby student, a frequent role.

And when he sees the College about to veer off course, he will gently inform the person at the helm. "If he thought I was doing something really stupid he would, in a diplomatic way, show me what some of the pitfalls might be," Cotter said.

That someone who arrived on campus with no Colby pedigree should be so protective of the College's future perplexed some members of the Colby community early in Smith's career. In fact, there was some murmured concern that not only had this emerging force at the College not attended Colby, he had no advanced degree at all.

Strider was the first to attempt to remedy that, dispatching the young associate dean back to the University of Maine where a master's degree was offered in student personnel and administration. Smith gave up after spending a summer with graduate students who were flipping through textbooks to find answers to problems he faced in real life every day. "No clue," he said. "No clue whatsoever."

But lack of an advanced degree didn't interfere with Smith's climb up the academic ladder. Assigned the rank of assistant professor in 1970 by Strider, he became associate professor in 1981 and was appointed full professor by Cotter in 1995. "I'm full professor of nothing and chairman of the department of nothing," he said with his characteristic flicker of a smile.