My father, Charles Frederick (Fred) Anderson, was born on September 5, 1917 in Dayton, Ohio, the son of the late Charles J.
and Mary Margaret (Higgins) Anderson. He died, at age 90, Thursday, March 13, 2008 at The Villa Georgetown
Nursing Home in Georgetown, Ohio. This is a small part of his story.
After his father came down with TB, the family returned to their roots in Bentonville, Ohio, where his father died
in 1922. With the help of friends and neighbors my father and his brothers and sisters were raised. Upon graduating from
Manchester High School in 1935, he made the move to Ripley, Ohio, to work as a kitchen helper at the Roselawn Tavern,
thanks to friend Dan Smith, with whom he roomed in an apartment above the tavern. Later, he got a job at Germann Brothers Trucking as a mechanic and driver. In the
aftermath of the legendary 1937 Ohio River flood, he and all the employees were asked to help clean up owner Frank Germann's house from flood
damage. Without being asked, dad painted the kitchen cabinets with, as he told it, 'flower and curly-que' designs. When the boss found out Dad
could paint, he asked him if he would like to have the job of painting the doors of the company trucks, and a career was born.
Sign artistry would follow him the rest of his life. He was an artist at heart, but he told me he couldn't imagine how he
could make money painting portraits, which is what he wanted to do, at that time in that place.
He found time to meet my mother, the lovely Dorothy Geschwind, who was then a waitress in a local diner. He went into the Army
in World War II, served in the Middle East, and as an artist for Army training films in temporary quarters in the stands
of Santa Anita racetack in California. He told me stories of solders getting VIP treatment, meeting celebrities like Humphrey Bogart, Mickey Rooney, and Fred MacMurray,
and what it was like to survive in the heat of what is now Iraq, Iran and Egypt, and of a life-changing visit to the Holy Land,
especially to the Church of the Nativity, on the spot where faith tells us Jesus was born.
After the war, he was discharged from the Army, married my mother, attended the Cincinnati Art Academy on the GI Bill,
and started raising a family. Darrell was born in 1947, and Dan in 1949. I snuck in there a little later in 1961.
My mother told me I was a 'surprise'. They owned and operated The Snack Shack restaurant in Ripley from 1953 to 1967,
he worked at Pepsi-Cola Bottling in Ripley in the advertising department for 14 years, and later taught Commercial Art at
The Southern Hills Joint Vocational School for eight years, until he retired in the early-1990s.
He was a wonderful dad. I'm not sure how he did it, but even working sometimes 16 hours a day, he still found time to play ball with me, and take me fishing, and take me along with him on jobs. We didn't always agree, but the older I get the more I understand him. I don't know how I'll ever live without him.
He leaves three sons - Darrell and wife Debbie of Kettering, Ohio, Dan of Ripley, Ohio, Me and my wife, Marcia, of
Cincinnati, Ohio; three grandchildren - Josh, Jesse and Amanda; and three great grandchildren - Josie, Jasper and
Adelaide. As well a host of friends who are better for having known him.
Below is a slideshow of some of his signwork.