Recycling Paper Into Art: Junior Fritz Jacquet

Junior Fritz Jacquet creates sculptures of paper.  The Haitian-born Parisian works in all kinds of paper creating abstract sculptures and human figures, including masks.  His interest began at age 14 when he first learned about origami.  He took to the art medium immediately, and continues to explore it, pushing it beyond its traditional art forms.

Three Men in a Sphere 2, image courtesy of www.origami-kunst.de

He uses glassine paper to make his lamps, which are folded, crumpled, and sculpted and have an internal fiberglass support.  They can be suspended or placed on a surface and contain a low wattage bulb.  They are available in a choice of sizes, and can be ordered from his website.

Monsieur Jacquet has used all types of paper, and thinks that every type has distinct characteristics that lend themselves to their final form.  His job is to merely help them realize that form.  Although he feels paper has a fragility to it, it can be surprisingly elastic and has great texture.  Paper has a tactile responsiveness.

A believer in the 3 Rs - reduce, reuse, recycle - he is an upcycle artist.  That is he gives old items greater value, not less, by converting them into art sculptures.  He counts the Swiss surrealist sculpture Alberto Giacometti and Senegalese artist Ousmane Sow as influences.

The big masks are made with one sheet of white or black Canson paper.
They measure roughly 12 - 16 inches in height, and can be mounted on stands.

He has worked with a wide variety of papers and creates a wide variety of sculptural styles.  One of his figurines he calls Bonhomme Canelle, a whimsical figure made of one sheet of cardboard.  This funny little creature is playful, spontaneous, and humorous.  There are different aspects of him available and he can stand upright on a wooden support or he can be sat or laid down.

What Monsieur Jacquet is perhaps most famous for is his masks, made from toilet paper rolls.  He first focuses on constructing the eyes, then the nose, mouth, and finally a facial expression.  He then mounts these masks to a flexible metal staff with a foot.  The pieces are coated with shellac and sometimes pigments.

His unique technique is still inspired by traditional origami in that he uses one sheet of paper.  But he has taken the art of paper folding a long way.  It will be interesting to see what he comes up with in the future, as he continues to express his take on paper folding.

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Images courtesy of the artist's website.

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Caldecott, Crane, and Greenaway

Modern-day children reading Dr. Seuss.
Image courtesy of scbailey/Wikipedia.

A picture book combines a narrative with pictures.  In the late Victorian era, a number of illustrators became famous for their work in children's picture books.  "Toy books", introduced in the latter half of the 19th century, were small paperbacks with a larger number of pictures than text.  There illustrations not only helped interpret the stories, but elaborated on them, and were mostly done in color. Three of the best illustrators of toy books are considered the great triumvirate of the time:  Randolph Caldecott, Walter Crane, and Kate Greenaway.  All three of them worked with color printer and wood engraver Edmund Evans to produce high quality books, and all of them knew each other.

Randolph Caldecott.

Randolph Caldecott (1846-1886) was born in Chester, England.  He went to work as a banker, then began studying at night at the Manchester School of Art.  His love of countryside walks, hunting, and horses is reflected in his art.  He soon had some success being published in local papers and some London publications.  He had a penchant for marginalia - something that became a lifelong habit.  A painter friend hooked him up with the editor of the London Society, a monthly magazine who published some of his drawings.

All four illustrations above from the Panjandrum Picture Book.
Courtesy of www.gutenberg.org.

With this encouragement, he quit banking and moved to London in 1872 at the age of 26.  A couple of years later he was a successful illustrator working on commission.  He lived in the heart of Bloomsbury for seven years, and began to exhibit his work.  In 1877 Edmund Evans needed an illustrator and Caldecott was retained to replace Walter Crane.  His initial two projects were The House That Jack Built and The Diverting History of John Gilpin, both published in 1878. They were so successful that he did two more each year until his death.  He was allowed to choose his own stories to illustrate, and sometimes even wrote his own.

The Babes in the Woods, published 1879.

"And the Dish Ran Away with the Spoon" from Hey Diddle Diddle and
Bye, Baby Bunting, 1882.   

From "The House that Jack Built" in The Complete Collection of
Pictures and Songs, published in 1887.

In 1884 the sales of his Nursery Rhymes (12 books) reached 867,000 copies and he found himself internationally famous.  He loved to travel and continued to do so, even after he married (he never had children).  He had suffered from poor health since he was a child, and on a tour of the U.S. in 1886, he died in St. Augustine, Florida at the age of 39.  He was buried there, but also has a memorial in the crypt of St. Paul's Cathedral in London, and one in Chester Cathedral in his hometown.

The Caldecott Medal, designed in 1937 by Rene Paul Chambellan.  The face of
the medal is from The Diverting Story of John Gilpin, who is shown astride a runaway
horse (story was based on a 1782 poem by William Cowper).  The reverse of the medal
is from "Four and twenty blackbirds bak'd in a pie".  

The Caldecott Medal was named in his honor.  It is awarded annually by the Association for Library Service to Children, a division of the American Library Association.  This award is for the artist of the most distinguished American children's picture book.  Both it and the Newbery Medal (the first children's literary award in the world, which is given to the most distinguished contribution to American children's literature) are the most prestigious awards for children's books in the U.S.

Walter Crane by photographer Frederick Hollyer, 1886.
Platinum print, image courtesy the Victoria & Albert Museum.

Walter Crane (1845-1915) is often called "the father of children's pictures books". He was a most prolific and influential book creator, and began some of the more colorful child-in-the-garden motifs that became emblematic in many nursery rhyme illustrations.  His illustrations for classical tales and fables are "fabulous".

King Midas with his daughter from A Wonder Book
for Boys and Girls by Nathaniel Hawthorne, published
1893.  Image courtesy LOC.

"The Man That Pleased None" from Baby's Own Aesop, 1887.
Image courtesy LOC. 

Pegasus.

He was born in Liverpool to portrait painter and miniaturist Thomas Crane.  He was a student of John Ruskin, and a follower of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, which he also studied with.  During a three-year apprenticeship with wood engraver William James Linton, he was able to study the work that came through by Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Sir John Tenniel, and John Everette Millair.  Although he admired the art from the late Renaissance, he was greatly influenced by the Elgin Marbles and Japanese color prints.

The Moat and Bishop's Palace, Wells Cathedral
is a watercolor that shows his skill with the medium.
Image courtesy The Delaware Art Museum.

One of Crane's wallpaper designs, "Swan and Rush and Iris".

As part of the Arts & Crafts movement, he became associated with the Socialist movement which believed in bringing art into the daily life of all classes.  For this reason he designed textiles, wallpapers, and home decorations.  He worked with the Art Workers Guild, and founded the Arts and Crafts Exhibition Society in 1888. He was vice president of the Healthy and Artistic Dress Union, which began in 1890, whose aim was loose-fitting clothes.  He illustrated their pamphlet "How to Dress Without a Corset".

Pamphlet written by William Wheeler.
Courtesy peasant-arts.blogspot.com.

Although Crane was not an anarchist, he contributed to libertarian publishers.  In the illustration below he addresses the Haymarket Affair in Chicago, where he made several trips to speak in defense of the eight anarchists accused of murder. At the May 4, 1886 event, someone threw a dynamite bomb at police who were trying to disperse people at a rally in support of striking workers (who wanted an eight-hour workday).  The blast and ensuing gunfire killed seven policemen and four bystanders, most of them  killed from friendly fire.  Four of the eight anarchists arrested were hung and one committed suicide, even though the prosecution conceded that none of the defendants had thrown the bomb.

Crane's portraits of the Haymarket Martyrs,
published in the November 1894 issue of Liberty Press.

From 1865 to 1876 Crane worked with Edmund Evans to collaborate on toy books of nursery rhymes and fairy tales, producing two to three every year.  He continued illustrating a variety of books.  One of his most famous works was a collaboration with William Morris on the page decoration of The Story of Glittering Plain, published in 1894 by Kelmscott Press.  It was done in the style of German and Italian woodcuts of the 16th century.  He exhibited his work internationally and lectured and taught.

Kate Greenaway.

Kate Greenaway (1846-1901) studied at what is now the Royal College of Art in London, which at that time had a separate section for women.  Her paintings were reproduced from hand-engraved wood blocks by Edmund Evans.  Her first book, which Evans produced, was a collection of simple verses for children.  Under the Window (1879) made her reputation as an illustrator.  It was made in a costly process where photographs of her dainty watercolors were done on wood blocks, called chromoxylography.  Despite advice to the contrary, Evans ran 20,000 copies in a first edition, which sold out immediately.

Illustration from The Pied Piper of Hamelin, 1888.

The rats of Hamelin.

She was noted for her depictions of children - all of them dressed in late 18th century and Regency fashions:  smocks and skeleton suits for the boys and high-waisted pinafores and dresses with caps and straw bonnets for the girls.  The famous department store on Regent Street in London, Liberty of London, used her drawings for their designs for real children's clothing.  Mothers in the 1880s and 1890s who conformed with the Arts and Craft movement dressed their daughters in Kate Greenaway pantaloons and bonnets.

The Elf Ring (watercolor).

A Little Girl in a Muff (watercolor).

Clothing and accessories were her real forté.  She was not as accomplished an artist as Caldecott or Crane, but was adored by the public.  She didn't exhibit a real understanding of anatomy.  She has been criticized, in fact, for creating doll-like children that lack complexity and spirit.  But her fans seemed to prefer her idealized world.  She died of breast cancer when she was 55.

May Day.

The Kate Greenaway Medal was established in England in 1955 in her honor.  It is awarded annually by the Charted Institute of Library and Information Professionals to an outstanding work of illustration in children's literature.  The first award was given in 1956, and besides 1955 there was no award given in 1958 as well, because no book was considered suitable.  The winner receives a gold medal and £5000 worth of books donated to the library of their choice.

All three of these illustrators greatly changed children's literature.  They were fortunate to live in a time and place where they had opportunities to meet other artists.  The fact that they all knew each other is intriguing.  To be a fly on the wall at one of their rendezvous....

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Unless otherwise noted, all images courtesy of Wikipedia.

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Slut and Not: A Tale of Two Margarets

The King and Queen of Tunis, by Václav Hollar aka Wenceslaus Hollar (1607-1677),
a Bohemian etcher, of unknown date.  Image courtesy of University of Toronto 
"Cariacatures and deformities after Leonardo".

Much of history is written with the absence of facts.  Especially history of times long ago where there is little or no extant written records nor reliable images, just paintings and sculpture which are always suspect.  But this has never stopped writers.  Despite all efforts to leave behind any biases (an impossible task even with the best intentions and most prodigious efforts) most historical writings smack of heroics, abominations, or cautionary tales.  This is no less true about two European women.

Margaret, Countess of Tyrol (1318 - 1369) was the last Countess of Tyrol from the Gorizia Meinhardiner dynasty.  She was the daughter of Henry of Gorizia-Tyrol, Duke of Carinthia and Count of Tyrol, and his second wife Adelaide, daughter of Duke Henry I of Brunswick-Lüneberg.  Henry had no male heirs, and sought for Margaret to inherit his Carinthian and Tyrolean estates.  He made an agreement with the Wittlesbach Emperor Louis IV in 1330 that this would happen.

Image courtesy of fembio.org.

That same year 12-year-old Margaret was married to 8-year-old John Henry of Luxembourg, the son of King John of Bohemia.  King John had deposed Henry from the throne of Bohemia in 1310.  He was also the brother of the future emperor Charles IV.  When Henry died in 1335, Emperor Louis IV gave the Carpinthian estate to one of Margaret's cousins - Duke Albert II of Austria. Because of her affiliation with the House of Luxembourg, she retained the Tyrolean estate.

Margaret's husband, John Henry, was arrogant and immature, and not well-liked by the Tyroleans.  In 1341 when John Henry returned from a hunting trip, Margaret barred him from the Castle Tyrol and had him removed from the estate. She was then married to Louis V of Wittelsbach, the eldest son of Emperor Louis IV, without getting divorced.  The Wittelsbach were rivals of the Luxembourgs.

Margaret of Tyrol, 18th century engraving, artist unknown.
Image courtesy of www.aeiou.at.

Her new husband, Louis V, along with his father declared her first marriage null and void.  Several scholars defended this declaration, including William of Ockham (he of the razor), on the grounds that John Henry never consummated the marriage, but this infuriated the papacy, as well as the House of Luxembourg and the Habsburgs.  Pope Clement IV, the fourth Avignon pope (i.e., French) excommunicated them both in 1342, and the scandal spread across Europe.  A political marriage between their son and a daughter of Duke Albert II von Habsburg led to the new Pope Innocent VI  absolving them from the excommunication.  But the church as a whole was still not happy with the whole turn of events, and Margaret was the one who suffered.  She was referred to as "Maultasch", a German euphemism for a whore or an ugly woman (I guess they were one in the same), which literally means "bag mouth".

The players are confusing, but the bottom line is Margaret's inheritance, which her father clearly wanted her to have and was rightfully hers even though she was born the wrong gender, was put into political play.  Men of power used her but she retained the bad reputation.  Never, never, never piss off the Church.

She eventually lost everything when first her husband and then her son died. She died in exile but not her reputation.  She has gained much notoriety, and is even thought to be the subject of a bizarre painting done approximately 150 years later:

The Ugly Duchess aka A Grotesque Old Woman, a satirical portrait
by the Flemish artist Quentin Matsys, circa 1513.  Her dressings are
outdated; the tiny red flower - a symbol of engagement at that time -
is dinky and probably won't blossom.  It has a striking resemblance to
the caricature below by Da Vinci, with whom Matsys was known to
exchange drawings.  The woman is often claimed to be Margaret of
Tyrol.  It is also thought to be the inspiration for Sir John Tenniel's
illustrations of the Duchess in Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.

Grotesque Head by Leonardo da Vinci, circa 1480-1510.  Red chalk
on paper.  Image courtesy Windsor Castle, Royal Library.

The Duchess from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.  Illustration by
Sir John Tenniel, 1869.  Image courtesy of Wikipedia.

There is much discussion on whether these truly are depictions of Margaret of Tyrol.  Erasmus wrote In Praise of Folly in 1509 (published in 1511, and dedicated to Sir Thomas More) which was a satirical attack on the traditions of European society (especially women), and the Catholic Church.  This, too, has been applied to Margaret of Tyrol.  However there are few extant images of her, and she does not appear particularly ugly:

A 16th century oil on canvas of Margaret of Tyrol
with the Tyrolean, Bavarian, and Carinthian coat of
arms.  Image courtesy of Wikipedia.

A seal of Margaret of Tyrol.
Image courtesy of fembio.org.

Another of her seals, courtesy of tirol-geschichte.tsn.at.

In 2008 it was determined that Matsys and da Vinci's works featured a sitter suffering from a rare form of Paget's disease, also known as osteitis deformans, where the bones become enlarged and deformed.  Therefore these are likely depictions of a real person with the disease.  Who attributed the works to Margaret of Tyrol is anyone's guess, but it goes to show how myth entwines itself into history, particularly when it comes to women.  Contemporary descriptions of her praise her beauty.  Yet, even now writers blast her with the usual accusations of an overwhelming sex drive, political intrigues of her own making, power-grabbing, and general evilness.  Case in point is this recent blog, which exemplifies the monster she was made into.

Now, let's look at another Margaret, some 200 years later.  Margaret of Parma was an illegitimate daughter of Charles V, the Holy Roman Emperor, and his chamberlain's servant.  Charles acknowledged her and she was raised by his sister and aunt, who were very well educated, had a great library (which included the famous illuminated Très Riches Heures du duc de Berry), and entertained some of the great humanists of the time, including Erasmus.  Margaret was engaged to the Pope's nephew, Alexander de Medici but he was assassinated a year later.  She then married Ottavio Farnese, the grandson of Pope Paul III.

Margaret of Palma by Anthonis Mor, circa 1555.
Image courtesy of Wikipedia.

Her brother was Philip II, King of Spain, Portugal, Naples, and Sicily.  He appointed her governor of the Netherlands, but with nominal authority. Everything she did had to be approved by Philip, even though letters at the time took months to be delivered.  She is credited with stopping the Inquisition in the Netherlands, which is not a credible fact as her power was only titular.  She eventually resigned and went to Italy, but returned to the Netherlands where she co-governed with her son.  When that didn't work out she retired to Italy, where she lived until she died.

Now here is a woman who legally had no right to an inheritance as she was not only a woman but illegitimate, which had a stigma attached to it then.  But she had great papal ties.  So she, too, was a pawn in men's political games, but faired better even though we will never know what she could have done if she had been really allowed to use her fine education and wield some power.

Another work of Margaret of Parma by Anthonis Mor,
circa 1555, also courtesy of Wikipedia.

Two women serving their usefulness as marriage objects for political ties - one hated by the church, the other the darling of the Church.  No wonder the U.S. founding fathers were adamant about the separation of church and state!  History is unfair and selective.  The job of a historian is to tease out meaning from the facts or lack of them, and not pass on biased information or add to fabrications and innuendo.  Perhaps one of the hardest jobs ever.

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A Midwife on Midwifery

Centerpiece of a book by Thomas Chamberlayne,
1656, Compleat Midwifes Practice, with image of Boursier.
Image courtesy of the Folger Shakespeare Library, Wash. D.C.

Perhaps you have read the book Diverse Observations on Sterility; Loss of the Ovum after Fecundation, Fecundity and Childbirth; Diseases of Women and of Newborn Infants?  If you were literate and lived in the 17th century, you may have.  This was the first book on childbirth and midwifery written by a woman. Few texts like this existed at the time; it had practical information on obstetrics.  It was used until the 18th century, and was translated into Latin, German, Dutch, and English.

The author, Louise Bourgeois Boursier, expanded her book in 1617, and added a section titled "Advice to my Daughter".  The 1626 edition was expanded with more treatments, such as using doses of iron to treat anemia.  Her 1634 Collection of Secrets, included knowledge which was afterward widely assimilated among midwives and physicians, such as repositioning the fetus in certain situations (such as when the fetus is lying transversely) so it will be delivered feet first, called podalic version.  This is still a medical option, however modern medicine prefers delivery by Caesarean section.

She was born to a wealthy family in a rural area outside of Paris circa 1563. Although there has been little written of her, historians have garnered what is known from her writings, even though she never wrote a formal memoir.  She did write a summary of her career in defense of a malpractice charge.  She was taught to read, but only knew French and not Latin as French nobles did.  In 1584 she married an army surgeon and barber, Martin Boursier, who had studied with Ambroise Paré, a well-known surgeon.  They had three children.

In a civil war that occurred when Henry of Navarre became King Henry IV, Louise had to quickly leave her home with her children and only the belongings they could carry.  Her husband was away, and they found safety within the walls of Paris.  When he returned they had very little money, and she took to needlework and managed to eke out a living.  A midwife that attended Louise in birth commented that if she had been literate she'd have had a much more lucrative career as a midwife.  This got Louise thinking, and she started reading about childbirth.  She started out assisting the wife of a local porter and began attending the births of working-class women in Paris.

1875 sketch by unknown artist.
Image courtesy Wikipedia.

Midwifery was generally passed down from midwife to midwife orally at this time. Louise took a more studied approach.  She prepared to pass certification as a midwife from the city of Paris, which would enable her to attend aristocratic women and hence be paid well for her services.  She was examined by a panel composed of a doctor, two surgeons, and two certified midwives.  On November 12, 1598, she passed the exam and was admitted to a guild of midwives.

King Henry IV married Marie de Médicis, and Louise was retained as midwife, having been recommended by some of the ladies of the court.  Between 1601-1610 she attended the births of their six children.  She received 900 livres for each birth; the going rate for midwives was 50 livres.  After their last child she was given a lump sum of 6,000 livres, and the official title of royal midwife, which made her much in demand among the aristocratic families.  It is thought she attended three-four births a week until she retired.  In 1609 she began to write down her accumulated knowledge of childbirth.

She was so influential in the field that she began to train midwives, including her own daughter.  Although she initially extolled the work of doctors and stressed the cooperation between physicians and midwives, as time went on her opinions changed, and she began to write more negatively about doctors and observed that they often treated with an eye on what they could get away with charging.  (Sound familiar?)  When a noblewoman died of what we know today as peritonitis, an autopsy was ordered.  Although Louise was not mentioned, and the death was blamed on a piece of placenta that was left inside the uterus, she responded by publishing a pamphlet denouncing the doctors involved in the autopsy.  They responded with their own pamphlet, and her influence was ended.  She died in 1636.

Several of her offspring became involved in medicine and midwifery.  One of her descendants was Marguerite Le Boursier du Coudray, born in Paris in 1712. She was a royal midwife in the court of Louis XV of France.  She invented the first life-size obstetrical mannequin, used in practicing mock births.  This was a life-size female torso.  The invention is often attributed to an Englishman, William Smellie, but her model was approved in 1738 by the French Academy of Surgeons, giving her prior claim.  She published a textbook on midwifery in 1759 - The Art of Obstetrics.  She was commissioned by the King to travel all over rural France and teach midwifery to poor women - she is estimated to have trained 4,000 women.

Marguerite Le Boursier du Coudray.
Image courtesy the Brooklyn Museum.

Louise Bourgeois Boursier described herself as the first practicing woman to write about midwifery.  She helped raise the art from folklore to actual science.  She asserted the value of midwives' knowledge against that of male surgeons, who controlled the field of childbirth.  She was a prodigious writer, whose methods were based on common sense.  She was an anomaly for her time and is a woman to be celebrated.

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I Heard Him on the Radio

"Wherever ya are, and whatever ya doin', I wancha ta lay 
ya hands on da raydeeooo, lay back wid me, 

and squeeze ma knobs.  We gonna feeel it ta-night!"

Wolfman Jack, image courtesy of Britannica.com.

I don't know what got me started thinking about him.  Perhaps it's because my husband did a post for his blog on Little Red Riding Hood books, and started singing the song by Sam the Sham and the Pharoahs all morning.  Which made me start humming it.  Anyway, I've always thought that Domingo Samudio (Sam the Sham with the gravelly voice) sounded like my favorite all-time dj - Wolfman Jack.

In my younger days, we listened to the radio or lps.  8-track tapes came out, but they were big and cumbersome.  Cassettes became much more popular, but in Southern California there were a lot of radio stations to listen to when it came to rock and roll.  The personalities of the djs were distinctive.  I remember fondly The Emperor Hudson, Charlie Tuna, The Real Don Steele, Robert W. Morgan, Dave Hull the Hullaballooer, and yes, Casey Kasem.  But my favorite dj was the Wolfman, hands down.  Sadly he left us in 1995, but his story is an interesting one...

Born Robert Weston Smith in Brooklyn in 1938, he was a fan of Alan Freed when he grew up.  At the time Freed was going by the name "Moon Dog", and was using a recorded howl.  After several jobs and several identities, Smith hit on his winning persona - Wolfman Jack - an homage to Howlin' Wolf in part.  Smith was said to be fond of horror films, werewolves especially, and chose the name "Jack" as it was a hipster term at the time - think "hit the road, Jack".

Image courtesy rockabillyhall.com

Prior to his rebirth as the Wolfman, he was a dj in Newport News, Virginia and Shreveport, Louisiana.  But his big break came when he was hired by XERF-AM at Ciudad Acuña in Mexico.  This station had the most powerful signal in North America - 250,000 watts.  It was picked up all across the U.S., and at night sometimes by Europe and Russia.  This is where the Wolfman made his mark.

He left Mexico after eight months and moved to Minneapolis but returned to border radio.  He came back to Mexico to manage XERB in Rosarita Beach, another "border blaster station" with 50,000 watts.  Eventually he moved to Los Angeles and opened an office there in 1966.  He recorded his shows in L.A.  He'd make three tapes - one of music, one of commercials, and one with phone calls from listeners.  These were sent to XERB with directions on mixing them. Eventually he was doing shows for three border stations, XERF, XERB, and XEG (which was in Monterey, Mexico).  He created different programming for each, and between the three stations he was heard from Central America to Canada.

The three towers at XERB in Rosarita Beach, Baja California.

He was also making money hand over fist, but it ended with some controversy.  A lot of the money he made came from selling airtime to Pentecostal preachers. Addressing complaints from the stations' owners, who wanted the income for themselves, the Mexican government passed a law stating that there could be no more religious programming on Mexican airwaves.  Little revenue came in, so the law was repealed, but without the Wolfman, who had left, the money just didn't roll in.

Image courtesy KBC Radio.

Wolfman Jack moved to KDAY in Los Angeles, but sought to earn more money. He edited his old XERB tapes and sold them to radio stations, the beginning of radio syndication.  At his peak Wolfman Jack was heard on more than 2,000 radio stations in 53 countries.  He went to other stations, played a part in the film American Graffiti, and for eight years hosted The Midnight Special on NBC, as well as made various guest appearances on television shows.  In 1989 Dick Clark produced a syndicated cartoon called Wolf Rock Power Hour.

The man left us too soon.  On July 1, 1995, after finishing a weekly program from Planet Hollywood in Washington, D.C., he said he couldn't wait to get home and see and hug his wife.  He walked up his driveway, went into his house to hug her, fell over from a heart attack, and died.  He lives forever, though, for me.

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Unless otherwise noted, images from kipsamericangraffiti.blogspot.com

Two books that may be of interest on this subject are:

Border Radio by Gene Fowler and Bill Crawford

Have Mercy!  Confessions of the Original Rock 'N' Roll Animal 

by Wolfman Jack and Byron Laursen

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