Raymond K. Smoot was mourned yesterday as an old friend and family member whose life should have been lived better than it was, but who did not deserve to die violently, at 51, in an altercation with state correctional officers.

"It's just sad how it happened; it was unnecessary," said Michica Dashiell, 42, the mother of Smoot's two youngest children. "If it could happen to my loved one, it could happen to anyone's loved one."

She spent much of the time during and after yesterday morning's funeral outside Greater New Hope Baptist Church with her children, smoking and talking to anyone who would listen, calling for "swift justice."

"I am very, very upset," she said after the service. "It's like a dream. This is unjust."

Inside the church, more than 200 people turned out to view Smoot's open casket and pay their last respects. And while there was no specific reference during the service to the circumstances of Smoot's death last Sunday, some waiting in the pews for the service to start shook their heads, and spoke quietly of their disbelief and outrage.

A few wore white T-shirts with Smoot's picture and "R.I.P. 'Clean'" - a reference to Smoot's nickname, which he earned because of his shaved head.

Several people who had known Smoot for many years acknowledged his long battle with drug addiction and other problems, but they said he was not a violent person or one who would pick a fight with correctional officers.

Some in the pews expressed the hope that Smoot's death, after an altercation with correctional officers inside the Central Booking and Intake Facility, might be part of God's plan to reform the correctional system. But nothing of the events of the last week, or of Smoot's troubled life, was spoken beyond the pews.

Messages of condolence were read, including one from the Maryland Senate, another from Democratic Del. Nathaniel T. Oaks, and more from classmates of Smoot's children.

Smoot's extended family, including his two young children - Joshua, 10 and Ramona, 6 - as well as two older daughters, brothers and sisters, filled the front seats on the right side of the church. Several were overcome by emotion and had to be led out of the sanctuary weeping.

From the pulpit, the Rev. William Scott said he didn't know Smoot, who did not attend the church where his brother and sister-in-law are members. But he offered a prayer of comfort to the family.

"Look down upon this family right now," he said. "Let them lean against your everlasting arm. ... Look down on these children. Daddy's gone, and they need somebody else. We ask now that you pick up their broken hearts. ... Raymond has left you in the hands of the Lord."

In his impassioned eulogy, the Rev. Marvin Evans acknowledged to his audience that "we live in a world of chaos, a world of confusion," but that "God will give us a better understanding."

"Even in circumstances like these, I am not going to sit here and declare to the family that everything is going to be better by and by," he said. But "regardless of what you do to me, we will rise again."

To Smoot's family he said, "Don't let no grass grow under your feet. Get up and do what the Lord wants you to do. The Lord will direct your path. ... Stick together, pull together. In unity there is strength."

Later, outside the church in the spring sunshine, the attorney for Smoot's family, A. Dwight Pettit, said he has given notice to the state of the family's intent to sue.

"Litigation can't bring him back," Pettit said, "but it can give protection to others in the future."

After the service, Smoot was laid to rest at King Memorial Park in Windsor Mill.