The Daily Paragraph
My dad’s dad, every week when my dad was overseas in World War II, he [grandfather] wrote and sent to him [father] what he called the Daily Paragraph. It was like a magazine, and it was the news clippings from the paper, of course. Things like that that had been in this Ohio town.
My grandfather to my dad, who was in the army. Father-son. And he was a great artist, so the covers are just incredible. There’s drawings and this and that. Inside it’s drawings, but mostly articles, you know, current stuff going on. Who got engaged, blah blah blah. Every week. And I would bet no one else in World War II did this. So all six cousins that are related to these people have, we divided them all up. But you know, the stack is just long.
He mailed them. With, of course, return envelopes so he could send them back. And they’re magazine-sized. It’s called the Daily Paragraph.
[Was your grandfather an artist for a living?]
No, no, he was the head of a municipal energy company. One room this size in the front of the house—almost this size—was devoted to a train. A train set. And all the walls were painted. So it just kind of reminded me, you know, just that kind of talent.
[Yeah, somebody who would have something that they would go to such an extent to develop and to study, to make things.]
And that was before, you know, cut and paste, Photoshop. He was hand-building this magazine.