John Callahan, cartoonist and author
Recently, two of my favorite interview subjects have passed away. Author Dick Francis in February, and on Saturday, July 24, politically incorrect cartoonist John Callahan.
I interviewed Callahan years ago for Northwest Health magazine, and while excited to get the assignment, I was terrified to meet him. I was sure he’d be gruff as the unapologetic, wavey-lined characters he drew.
I drove to Portland, Oregon, for the interview, and found his ground-floor apartment on a cloudy autumn day. I knocked, and heard voices on the other side of the door. One of his caregivers, finishing his shift, opened the door and invited me in as he left.
I stepped into Callahan’s studio apartment, noticing the lift equipment and smells that accompany someone who’s been in a wheelchair for all of his adult life. He was surprisingly soft spoken and later I wondered if it was because his neck had been broken at age 21 (drunk-driving accident; he was the drunk) and his lungs had lost their full force.
As we chatted, he said that he’d dreamed the night before that we went to a movie. I asked which one; he didn’t say, but instead steered us out the door and to his favorite local espresso bar.
I hurried along after the cartoonist as he propelled himself down a city sidewalk. People knew him, and the waves and hellos didn’t stop as he jetted along. Cars stopped for Callahan. They had to, since he didn’t stop for them as he’d blaze into traffic.
After the lattes, we returned to his apartment, where I interviewed him for the next few hours. He willingly talked about his alcoholism, his life since the accident, his career.
At some point, a friend arrived, and I learned Callahan was on a deadline of his own. His friends were his sounding board, he explained. He’d draw, and they’d tell him if it was funny or a piece of crap. He had a fax machine nearby with a direct line to his agent once it passed their test.
On this particular day, he and his friend talked about a recent cartoon. The friend had thought it ho-hum, so Callahan decided to try something new.
With the pen held in his stiff hand, two wavy-lined figures appeared. One evolved into singer Madonna, in all her pointy-breasted splendor. The other character was a stout woman, and he asked to no one in particular how he could show her cooking. “Have her hold a rolling pin or a frying pin,” I suggested. He drew both, as I recall. One implement in each hand.
Finishing up, he added the label: “Madonna and Child”
His friend and I laughed. The cartoon was faxed to his agent. Within minutes, the agent called, her laugh coming through the phone line.
I never saw that cartoon in print. (I always wished I’d asked if I could have it.) I’ll keep looking for it when I see his works.
Callahan did autograph one of his books for me, though, and I still have it. It sits near my autographed Dick Francis mysteries.
PawPrints Productions 