Charles M. Schultz,
America's most beloved cartoonist, died eight years ago this week. His
last new "Peanuts" Sunday comic strip ran eight years ago today. In
memory of Mr. Schultz, I'm reprinting for you my column that first ran
Feb. 17, 2000, in the Macon Beacon in Macon, Miss.
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I hope
when Charles M. Schultz walked out to his driveway and opened his
mailbox in Heaven Monday morning, an avalanche of Valentines fell out.
Remember
how year after year, Charlie Brown would go hopefully to the mailbox,
wishing for a Valentine from the Little Red-Haired Girl, only to find
it empty?
We'll have the same feeling when we turn to the comic
pages in the Sunday paper next week, and for the first time in our
lives, not find a brand-new "Peanuts" waiting for us.
Charles
Schultz' little people have become part of the warp and woof of our
live over the past half-century because they each ring a bell of
recognition in our hearts.
Charlie Brown, the wistful, round-headed
kid who's always a little on the outside, but always hopeful that one
day, he'll really get a Valentine...that Lucy won't pull the football
away before he can kick it...that his kite won't get stuck in the
Kite-Eating Tree...that the Little Red-Haired Girl will return his
devotion.
Linus, the little boy who always drags his security
blanket wherever he goes. Lucy's little brother, perpetually nagged and
belittled by his big sister. A sweet and gentle spirit. Will we ever
hear the Christmas story from Luke without remembering Linus in the
beloved Christmas television special, standing all alone on the stage,
lisping, "And there were in the same country shepherds, keeping watch
over their flocks by night...and the glory of the Lord shone round
about them, and they were sore afraid...."
Lucy, the world's meanest
little girl. We all had a kid in the neighborhood like her. A nightmare
of a big sister to Linus, and the bane of Charlie Brown's life. Lucy,
who dispenses caustic Psychiatric Advice for a nickel to unlikely
customers like Charlie Brown at her wooden stand. Yet there's something
lovable about Lucy, too - her very crabbiness and bossiness make her so
real.
Snoopy. Like Dorothy told the Lion when she left Oz - I think
I'll miss you most of all. World Famous World War One Flying Ace, with
goggles in place and cape flying, on top of your doghouse. Woodstock's
master, always observing wryly the antics of the yellow bird and his
friends as they ice skate on your water bowl. Reminding your master to
feed you, with your bowl in your mouth. Snoopy the writer, typing away
on the top of the doghouse: "It was a dark and stormy night...." I've
loved you all my life, Snoopy. Don't go away.
Charles M. Schultz
understood the human heart. He understood that there's a Linus in each
one of us who longs to drag our own security blanket everywhere we go.
He understood that all of us sometimes feel like Charlie Brown, waiting
for Lucy to snatch the football away and make a fool of him once again,
or standing by an empty mailbox with a lonely heart while everyone else
has a pile of Valentines.
He understood that all of us, like Snoopy,
have a longing for adventure and excitement and drama in our lives. He
understood even the Lucys of the world, who cover up their own pain and
loneliness with hurtful words and put-downs. He understood the artists,
who can sit down at their own version of a toy piano, and, like
Schroeder, make beautiful music.
He looked with love at humankind,
and helped us to look through his own unique lens. Charles Schultz was
truly an artist, if artist help us to see the world in a different way,
and help us to think, and change us. He sat down at his own unlikely
piano - his drawing board - and for 50 years blessed us all with some
of the most memorable art of our time.
Rest in peace, Charles
Schultz. Have fun reading your millions of Valentines. Kick the winning
field goal. Hit a home run with bases loaded. And hold the Little
Red-Haired Girl's hand real tight as she sits there by your side.
Thanks for all the smiles you gave us. We sure will miss you.
(By Celia DeWoody. Printed in the Feb. 13 Harrison Daily Times, Harrison, Ark. 2008)
Comments (2)
Celia, in order not to be a serious grouch on this commemorative event of your first article, I will withhold my strong opinions about Charles Schultz -- which I believe set me apart from the adoring masses. Instead, I'll say that it was fun to see your inaugural article. I enjoy your writing so much! Even when you write about Charles Schultz.
You wrote a wonderful and loving tribute in making alive the characters created by Charles M. Shultz . And you way to write was so kind .
Love
Michel