Reminds me, by Grandpa Jim

I don't think I've mentioned it before, but my dad was a painter, too. From about 1945 to 1955, he painted about 25 or 30 paintings, I'd guess. During that same ten year period, he also wrote a novel, a book of fairy tales, a couple dozen short stories and a few poems. (How's that for a "pro-ductive period?") My memory tells me that he had some work exhibited in the famous Tate Gallery in London during that time, but I could be quite wrong.

Because Dad worked for the Chicago Sun-Times, he knew a lot of editors, of course. One day he gave the manuscript for his novel to one of these editors, asking him to look it over. A few weeks went by, then Dad may have forgotten, but when a couple of months had gone by, Dad approached the man, again. The man was visibly quite embarrassed and admitted he had lost the manuscript. (Dad would have been 65 at the time.)

When Dad told this to me, I was shocked, of course, and asked him what he could do? File suit, maybe,? (It was the only copy, mind you!) Dad just laughed it off and said, "Why I think it was almost a blessing. Now I have something to do (rewrite it) and I've learned the valuable lesson of making a carbon copy!"

Dad had retired at age 70, applied for and was hired at a small shop when he was 72, and then retired again at 75. (The shop owner was glad to get Dad, because he didn't have enough work for someone full-time, and Dad wanted part-time, so it was win/win!) Dad was a photoengraver, Ben Day man for over almost 50 years.

None of Dad's many works (art or writing) ever brought him any income, and he had a habit of giving things away, also. His work might be somewhat similar to Rockwell's, in that it would be called "realistic," I guess. (Matter of fact, Dad was 12 years older than the famous artist, 1882 vs. 1894.)