The Dwight D. Eisenhower Song

"He's like the country's grandfather,"

My Mother said to me

When I asked about that old bald guy

On our black and white TV.

And all these decades later

I realize when it came to Ike

She was right.

The McDowell Family Album

The McDowell Family Album is something of a mystery. This family has never been real big on recording their history. In fact, during the 20th century family members were unable to name their grandparents for official documents like death certificates.

To illustrate this point, my Mom's cousin gave me this album when we visited him in Centralia, Washington over 30 years ago. "Here kid," he said, "Take it. I'm not into this gynecology crap."

Though the photos are mostly unmarked, they are interesting portraits of a colorful family who were part of the history of Colorado in the era of the silver boom in the 1880s-1890s. And obviously, they didn't look back.

The album was curated by my great grandmother, Ellen McDowell. She was born Ellen Snyder in Casey, Illinois, Apr. 17, 1862. She married Benjamin F. McDowell in 1879 and the young family moved to Ouray, Colorado in the 1880s. Ben deserted the family in 1896 and Ellen supported her four sons and two daughters by running a laundry-- by hand-- for the silver prospectors. She followed her sons to Centralia, Washington in the 1920s, where she died Feb. 15, 1949.

Reeves Family Album

I have a couple old puffy Victorian-era family photo albums, both tracing back to my Mom's relatives. Some of the photos are tintypes, and I know a few were taken during the Civil War. They are pretty interesting as artifacts, and in many cases I have no idea who the subject is, or otherwise have little information.

The first of the two albums apparently belonged to my great-grandmother, Jennie Melissa Reeves, who married Theodore Jacob Hoss. I'm going to try and spare all of you any lengthy genealogical narratives, but I will supply some brief facts with each photo as we go.

This particular album was handed down to Jennie's oldest child, my grandmother. After she died in 1978 my Mom picked it up as the surviving heirs divided up the estate. It was given to me quite some ago when I was still interested in family history. The advent of Internet sort of spoiled the hunt for me, I must say. At least I got to talk to all those oldtimers in the 1970s and 1980s before their entire generation passed on. My grandparents and their siblings were born mostly in the 1880s or 1890s.

When I hauled this monster into the living room Hettie had to come and check it out.

The Herbert Hoover Song

When I was just a lad, in 1964

My Mom looked at the TV set

And recoiled in total horror.

A crabby looking pumpkin face

Had filled the TV set

"Oh my God, it's Herbert Hoover!

And he's not dead yet!"

Mr. Hoover was a wonder boy

And humanitarian

But he couldn't wrap his brain 

Around the mess that he was in.

In 1932 he was kicked out on his tush

And his name equated "failure"

Until that slot was filled

By George W. Bush

Postcard - Centralia, Washington

"Centralia, Washington, and Mt. Rainier. Centralia, founded in 1852 by a freed Negro slave by the name of George Washington, is in the middle of Lewis County, serving as the hub of the Evergreen Country."

Looks like this dates back to the 1960s. On my Mom's side of the family I have ancestors who were living here dating back to the territorial era. In fact, the house where they lived, and where my Mom was born, is visible in the lower center portion of the card. Today the building is the local headquarters for Windermere Real Estate.

Mort Drucker

This year for Christmas my Mom gave me a book of selections from the pen of Mad cartoonist Mort Drucker. When I asked her how she knew I was a fan, she replied, "Are you kidding? I remember how you loved his work when you were growing up!"

It's true. I started reading Mad during the JFK years, and two of the magazine's artists in particular were a major influence for me, Don Martin and Mort Drucker.

A master of caricature, Drucker has a gift for capturing the character of celebrities and politicians like no one else. Widely imitated but always without equal, I have yet to see a would-be Drucker who doesn't look forced. The work of the original Mort looks effortless and graceful. And fearless.

Drucker was the one who usually drew the movie parodies that included songs "sung to the tune of ...," a device I loved when I was a regular Mad reader and later employed frequently in my own comix.

I do not believe Mort Drucker was a factor in the naming of Morty the Dog, unless it was subliminal.

Anyway, this a great book and well worth tracking down. Published 2012 by Running Press.

The Blue & Gold

Before middle schools we had junior high schools, grades 7-9. In Olympia there were two junior high schools, Washington and Jefferson. I started out in Washington but partway through my academic journey there they built a new junior high to absorb us Boomers. It was called Reeves Junior High. It was named in honor of Mr. Reeves, my grade school principal at Roosevelt Elementary. He was a nice man who lived a block away from me.

Reeves was the school for the tough, working class kids. It was not an easy place to learn from the classroom due to the anarchy. All of our lessons came from elsewhere.

The school newspaper was called The Blue & Gold (school colors) and was run off on a mimeograph. I have a scattered few issues from the first year. Many of my cartoons failed to reproduce to the point where they could not be read, but I found a few I could post here.

It was at Reeves that I first learned the power of cartooning in politics. The Olympia Mayor, Tom Allen, wanted to turn the downtown Sylvester Park into a parking garage. Even though I was a teenager, I met with him to state why this was wrong, and he treated me like a teenager. That is to say, I was brushed off and ridiculed by him as an "environmentalist." (The term "treehugger" had not been invented yet and The Evergreen State College had not surfaced in Oly at this time, so we were still living in an extension of the 1950s in Olympia). So I drew a bunch of cartoons about "Tommy Treecut" for the Blue and Gold. The principal, Ted Wynstra, called my parents to complain, saying Tom Allen was a friend of his, and my Mother responded by saying, so what? The kid has a right to free expression.

Yes! As I have stated before in this blog, I was very fortunate in the parental department.

And Tom Allen was later nailed in some scandal involving self-interest in the construction of the public library and left office under a deserved dark cloud. 

Anyway, part of digging into that mimeo gel to produce those cartoons meant I had to sit in the school office area. I quickly noticed that the central microphone for the school announcements was in the same room, as well as the stack of notices waiting to be read. So I started writing bogus notices and slipping them into the stack. I wonder how many people showed up for fake meetings?

Ain't I a stinker?

So, here are some of the cartoons I drew during that era, 1969-1970:

Norman, the Wonder Prune was regular character I used

Remember, the Moon landing was new thing in 1969!

 This cover was drawn by our art teacher, "Snuffy" Jenkins.

He died fairly young, only a few years after he drew this.

He was a squat, square, straight-talking guy who loved teaching.

This was the kind of Cold War paranoia nonsense we Boomers could not get away from, even in a junior high newspaper!

My Aunt Pat Pearson and Olympia Folk Art

I grew up with 24 uncles and aunts and out of all them, my Aunt Pat Pearson (1922-2007) was the most unusual. And in my family, that is saying a lot, believe me.

In other places I have documented how wonderful my parents were in encouraging my development as a cartoonist. My Father had a genetic gift for drawing which was handicapped by his early years in grinding poverty in the Virginia Cumberland Mountains. Being great at illustrating didn't help much when one was trying to survive. But he was a great artist, just in the way he regarded life. In the rare times he drew anything, I recall being thrilled by the result. He didn't know it, but he was a poet and conceptual artist by the life he led. He took risks no sane person would take, and he was rewarded for those decisions.

My Mother, being a professional educator and the product of Washington pioneer stock (I had to slip that in), saw very early that I loved the graphic art form and really nurtured and promoted my art education. Ironically, although my Mom was not an artist herself, she recognized the strain more than my Dad, and saw that it was an important part of being human.

So I was lucky in the parent department.

So, what did my Aunt Pat contribute to this foundation?

Pat never had any children and she eventually became the stereotype Crazy Cat Lady, leaving perhaps as many 20 cats in her little apartment when she died. But when I was little she was the most glamorous woman I knew. She designed and made her own clothes. She carried herself as if she was on the runway. She was creative. And she painted.

At the time (mid-1960s) I recall being so impressed that someone I knew had actually painted a picture! In oil! That had a big impact on me. A grownup I was related to had produced a painting!

As an adult I now see her work as a form of folk art. But I honor her influence on my own creativity by hanging one of her paintings in my hallway. It is, I believe, a picture of 4th and Capitol, in Olympia, Washington, facing east in the late 19th century. 

Yes, it is not a great work of art by itself. But it means a lot to me.

 Pat's painting at the end of my hallway

 Another Pat painting

Pat, 1960

Me and my hero, my Dad, July 1959, Millersylvania

I actually recall this event in a spotty way.

So Aunt Pat, here's to your memory and contribution. You will be happy to know every single cat you left behind found a good home after you left us. And you let me know it was OK to be a grownup and creative. Thank you.

Phone photo 1911

The Windermere Real Estate headquarters in Centralia, Washington

In the early 20th century this was the home of my great-grandparents, Theodore and Jennie Hoss. My Mother was born in this place. Supposedly, the ghost of my great-great grandfather, Walter Francis "Frank" Reeves, a crusty Wolverine Civil War vet, and later a civilian Custer scout (according to family lore) who came to Washington before statehood, died at the breakfast table in this house in 1916 and is still hanging around as a ghost there. Frank saw some horrible stuff in the Civil War, being at Cold Harbor and The Wilderness. He was also at Appomattox. I'm told he considered U.S. Grant, quote, "A drunken butcher."

I am so grateful to Windermere for preserving this structure. They did a beautiful and impressive job. This home was, I'm told, designed by the same architect who created Hoquiam's Castle.

Buttons - Presidential Campaign - 2008

Obama/Biden, www.barackobama.com

On the curl: 29625 c2008, Tigereye Design 800-844-3729

Another button my Mom found and donated to the visual parade.

Buttons - Presidential Campaign - 1984

Mondale Ferraro

On the curl: G.H. Stamp Works, Aberdeen, Wash.

My Mom dug this out last week and contributed to the visual cause

Favorite Movie Quotes: Shenandoah

"It's like all wars, I guess. The undertakers are winning. And the politicians who talk about the glory of it. And the old men who talk about the need of it. And the soldiers, well, they just wanna go home."

[Reviewed in Cheaper by the Dozen 2]

Some personal trivia. My Mother picked my first name, my Father my middle name. According to my Virginian raised Dad, if my parents had switched roles in the name game I would be known today as Shenandoah. Mom probably still would've picked Steven, but as my middle name. So I could've been Shenandoah Steven Willis.

Phone photo 1454

Winged Victory Monument

Olympia, Washington

This WWI memorial is in the center of the Washington State capitol campus. In the background you can see the Insurance Building on the left and the dome of the Legislative Building on the right.

When my Mom was a young adult, ca. 1950, she was hoisted up the front of this pedestal and into the group of figures in the sculpture. Needless to say it was very late at night.

I shook hands with Gov. Rosellini, ca. 1960, as he stood in front of the state seal at the base and hosted the annual Easter egg hunt.

This phone photo was taken shortly after sunrise.

Spring! and Nixon

My Mother recently cleaned out one of her closets and found a couple old drawings of mine.

Spring! was drawn, I'm betting, about 1984.

The isolated Richard Slimehouse Nixon was probably drawn in 1973 or 1974 as his scandals piled up. Notice it is signed by "Jobbo Bonobo."

Newave! the Underground Mini Comix of the 1980s

When Michael Dowers told me he was going to put this book together, I had a difficult time imagining what the final product was going to look like. But knowing Michael's amazing history as a visionary publisher and coordinator, I had faith it was going to be great. He didn't disappoint me.

My personal file of the little minicomix which I keep as my portfolio fills up two card catalog drawers. I loaned them to Michael so he could see if there were any he wanted to reproduce for this book. He picked them up at my place, and about 6 months later Sarah and I went down to Puget Island, which sits in the middle of the Columbia River between Oregon and Washington and retrieved them.

Although this dense brick of a book clocks in at around 900 pages, it is just the tip of the volcano. But the impact of this little baby has been the Newave event of 2010. A lot of us Oldwavers have dusted ourselves off and gotten to know each other again. We knew in the 1980s we were on to something wonderful, and now we are seeing that we were way ahead of the pack, even pioneers.

Not only has Michael's book been a factor (along with Sarah's lighting a fire under me) in my decision to crawl out of my cave and revisit this comix stuff, but it has also brought forth a whole new audience of the next generation of comix readers.

Michael, you done good.

I'm reproducing the interview portion from this book. Rick Bradford, who is turning out to be one of the main historians of the Newave movement, conducted the back and forth via email. Since the spine of the book doesn't allow me to lay the pages flat on the scanner, I wish you luck on reading the photocopy version.

Calling A to Z! Calling A to Z!

Calling A to Z! That is, calling Hank Arakelian and Joe Zabel! If you guys are out there please drop me a line. I'm interested in posting some jams from the past.

Also, I'm thinking of putting together some new minis. One idea I have is to invite 8 or more artists to send me a page for a minicomic with a random image or images. I'd put all the pages together and form a story. It builds and expands the concept of the minis I drew with Dale Luciano at Dada Gumbo. If you're interested send me a page via email or snail mail. It has to be clean enough so I can show it to my aging mother but crazy enough to make my grown daughter roll her eyes and wonder when her Dad is ever going to grow up.

Dogs

Dogs was a regular digest size book designed for the earliest of readers and published by the Olympia School District. The connection was through my mother, Jeanette Willis, who was a teacher and sometimes administrator for OSD.

This was my first published work of the 1980s, printed in either January or February 1980. At the time I was working at Seattle Public Library as a low level clerk. In fact, my desk was way down in the basement, and that's literally low level.

Dogs was also the last of several books I drew for the Olympia School District, all of them constructed for beginning readers. I was given a list of words and letters thought to be the easiest for children to read, and then I used what they gave me to invent a story.

In 1980, this was my only solo book. My other nine published cartoons of that year were all in The Cooper Point Journal, campus newspaper for The Evergreen State College. The weird part about that-- I was no longer a student there. I had bequeathed a huge stack of unpublished comix to the CPJ when I left, and they spent a few years publishing more of my work after I graduated than when I was enrolled. Their August 7, 1980 issue was the first published appearance of "Mortie" the dog, but the panel was probably drawn in 1978.

Anyway, you can see how Odd Dog is a Morty prototype. Odd Dog first showed up in his own Olympia School District book in 1976.