Those who’ve been reading my ezine know I’ve now officially begun the transition from talking about self-care to a new topic — the incredible but true story of my father, John Falter. He was one of the most famous artists in America in the 1940’s and 50’s, right up until a few years after I was born.

And really? I had no idea. He just didn’t talk about it that much.

I have read with amazement the national news accounts of his life, including even my grandmother’s death in her small town of Falls City, Nebraska. (There it was, remarkably, in The New York Times.)

I’ve researched his story, finding his self-portrait on the cover on Newsweek (“Falter by Falter; How Good Can You Get?”) and his appearance on The Arthur Godfrey Show. I’ve uncovered his letters to and from three different US Presidents, plus all manner of movers, shakers, and movie stars. Even his forty-year correspondence with his best friend, actor James Cagney.

And then there were the 129 Saturday Evening Post covers he painted, which include intimate details about real people, real places, and most importantly, real heart.

John Falter was all love all the time. For this he was loved by not only us, his family, and his many, many friends. He was also loved by millions of Americans—and now I get to tell the full amazing story of this small town boy who really did live the American dream.

To me, of course, he was just my dad. A wildly creative person who could paint inches of British soldiers in a Revolutionary skirmish in the morning, then make Barbie clothes with me in the afternoon.

We all weathered the demise of the Saturday Evening Post when I was four years old, when the magazine could not successfully transition from illustration to photography. We watched him flail for some years, and then beautifully settle on the ultimate work of his career–telling the story of the American migration West, which he did with not only historically accurate detail but a full feeling for the hardship and the pathos of those times.

My father died 41 years ago, when I was 22. And only now can I truly see who he was, and what an impact he had on his era. Even Norman Rockwell went through what he called his ‘Falter Period.’

There has never been a book written about his career–though there is a museum dedicated to his work, The John Philip Falter Museum in his hometown of Falls City Nebraska. And they publish a wonderful collection of his Saturday Evening Post covers.

Yet now, in a time when America is sorely, severely divided, perhaps there is a chance we can find some common ground just by touching back to our shared humanity. John Falter loved our inventiveness. Our resourcefulness. Our humor. And he loved the magic in life.

So now it is time to tell the whole story behind John Falter’s work–even the secrets he buried in his Post covers, and the actual people he portrayed.

The National Museum of American Illustration is collaborating with me on this project. It will include 150+ beautiful images of his work, many from their own incredible collection. More details to come on when it will publish, and where to find it.

Rather than go on and on here, let me close by sharing a few Falter Post covers. Better than anything, they convey the unique humor and insight into the human condition that marked his work. And they are beautiful.

PS. We all posed for his Saturday Evening Post covers. That is my sister, Sarah, listening to the conch shell when she was four. If this work looks familiar, she was on Antiques Roadshow with the painting a few years back. Take note also of the folded Sunday comics on the deck. They feature Peanuts, a new cartoon strip at the time by my father’s friend and fellow artist, Charles Schulz.

 

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