You Can Call Me Al. (…or “dad” if you like…)
I’m not bragging, but I was born with a talent to draw. My mom told me once they weren’t sure where the talent came from, since everyone in my family would struggle to make stick figures. I certainly wasn’t the second coming of Rembrandt, but I was good enough to impress some friends, earn some beer money in college and eventually make a career out it. I never took an art lesson, or design class or instruction in theory or history. But I had my favorite artists growing up in the ‘60s and ‘70s - they included Peter Max (I think I still have a beach towel in the attic), the duo of Art Fitzpatrick and Van Kaufman (automotive advertising, specifically Pontiac) and everyone at MAD Magazine, but especially Al Jaffee.
The classic back inside cover “Fold-Ins” by Al Jaffee - the first page I’d turn to was the last page of any MAD Magazine.
My mom was born and raised in Washington, DC, part of the WWII generation and graduated Anacostia High School in 1942. Her maiden name was Marian Gayle. She went to work at the Pentagon during wartime as a secretary in the Air Surgeon’s Office. She met my dad during this time and he was in the Navy, serving in the South Pacific. She’d get letters from him that were highly redacted (mostly location, because we didn’t want the enemy to know where our troops were), but she’d joke that because of her position, she knew where he was anyway. But before she met Dad, she said she had a serious boyfriend (who I believe went off to serve in Europe) and I remember she spoke of him with a certain wistfulness. Things kinda worked out for me because, well, I’m here - but I think she sometimes wondered what could have been.
Mom, making a splash in DC.
c.1943
Mom’s workplace, the Pentagon c.1943, taken by her (quite possibly on her way to work one day).
Fast forward to c.1976 and I’m sitting on our small back porch, carefully working the inside back cover Fold-In of my latest MAD magazine. My mom notices, is intrigued and asks me about it. I show her the “before” message and how to fold the page to get to the surprise “after” message. She asks me who the artist is and tell her about this guy named Al Jaffee. She says, “Oh, I worked with someone named Al Jaffee in the Pentagon and he could draw. He once drew a picture of me.” She goes inside and after a few minutes, emerges with a small pencil sketch that’s in remarkably good shape for being around 32 years old. And sure enough, it’s signed by a PVT. Jaffee, but the signature style doesn’t quite match that of MAD’s most famous satirist. She says I can have it if I want it. And thankfully, I put it in a protected, safe place.
The original drawing of my mom, allegedly by some guy named Jaffee.
It was always in the back of my mind, wondering about the provenance of this drawing. Fast forward again to the mid-90s, out of college, married and living in Syracuse, and I decide to finally do something about it. So I scanned it and sent a letter off to Al Jaffee, care of MAD Magazine in New York City, outlining my mom’s claim. I figure I’d never hear back since I was basically throwing a message in a bottle into the wind. I’d almost forgotten about it. Until I received a letter. Incredibly, the formally typed letter was from Al Jaffee himself, confirming the drawing was indeed made by him!
The first letter I received from Al Jaffee. Success!
But it was clear that he did not remember my mom (she was not from PA). I called her to tell her what I did and what I received back and she responded with a matter-of-fact “I told you so…” When I read her the letter, she got a bit annoyed that he didn’t remember her, since she claimed they were good friends, and said, “Well you just tell him that my desk was kitty corner behind his, that we talked about [she lists some topics] and specifically about his dream of doing a cartoon for a newspaper!” Like…she thinks Al Jaffee and I are now friends who converse on a regular basis… She tells me a few more details about their time as friends and I reluctantly agree to write him again, thinking I’ve already overstayed my welcome. It was enough for this fan to know that I have an original Jaffee caricature of my mom! I realized that he provided his home address on the letter, so I didn’t have to go through the corporate office of MAD. I also remember that I recently scanned all our family’s photos, dating back to the 1930s, which included my mom’s high school yearbook. Her senior picture would have been taken only be a year or two before they worked together, so that might jog his memory. I printed that page and included it with an apologetic letter for bothering him again, at his home, but that my mom wanted me to pass on a few things.
Mom’s high school yearbook, 1942. I reluctantly sent a scan of this page and close up of Mom.
Well, this time I received a hand-written letter only a few days later. The yearbook picture worked because he obviously remembered her very well. I was astonished that one of my childhood artistic influences would have been good friends with my mother!
Mr. Jaffee’s second response!
I called her with this update and I received the same matter-of-fact, “I told you so…”
Then it struck me: that serious boyfriend mom had before she met Dad was named Al. I anxiously asked, “Do you mean to tell me that, but for that night at the roller rink when my Dad-to-be skated by and caught your eye, Al Jaffee could’ve been my father??? I mean, I love Dad and all, but… AL JAFFEE???” She assured me it was not the same Al. But I still don’t have definitive proof that the other “Al” ever really went off to Europe…
This is the envelope. We used these things to send correspondence once upon a time.
I framed the sketch, the two letters and the envelope and they’re hanging in front of me right now, in my office, over this computer. Spike (my wife) and I have an agreement on what gets saved as we’re running out of the house in case of fire: grab the dog, her great great grandfather’s Civil War discharge from the Union Army and the Al Jaffee drawing.
And I’m still going with “Al Jaffee came ‘this close’ to being my dad.”
This is an example of Jaffee’s “Tall Tales”, the strip he referenced in the second letter.