It’s been 20 years since Charles M. “Sparky” Schulz died. It’s hard to believe it’s been that long ago. As tributes and remembrances pour forth today, I can’t help but remember that day too.
I remember it pretty well when I read the news, though for me it was otherwise unremarkable. I was a Sophomore at York College in York, Nebraska. As was my routine, when I was “home” on campus for the weekend, I went to the library when it finally opened after lunch to read the Sunday newspapers.
It was cold. In rural Nebraska, the winters are cold and February can be the worst. My friends and I were excitedly planning a trip to the west coast for Spring Break. It would be my first trip there.
Going into the library, the periodical racks weren’t far from the entrance. At that time (perhaps still?) there were a couple of couches and comfortable chairs where one could relax and read. It was one of my favorite places on campus.
The display was such that you could see several front pages at once and more than one newspaper had the news that Charles Schulz had passed away. I probably read the story, but I don’t remember anything about it. Maybe I didn’t read it first. Maybe like millions of other readers, I found the comic section to see the final comic from the man himself. I remember that final strip crystal clear, realizing as I read the message over and over that he announced his retirement, he somehow knew it meant his life was ending. It still brings a tear to my eye all these years later.
Peanuts was on the front page of the Sunday comics section, above the fold in our newspaper. It had earned the spot long before I was born as the most popular, most syndicated comic of all time. That day, I remember also wondering what happens to comic strips when the creator passes away, not knowing that the comic section in my hands included several strips by artists who had died long ago.
Of course, back then I had no idea I would one day get to know the life and art of Charles Schulz on a much deeper level than as a more-days-than-not reader of the funnies. Since becoming the curator of the Charles M. Schulz Museum in Santa Rosa, California two years ago today, I’ve read pretty much all the books about Schulz, I’ve watched all the interviews, I’ve read all his comics. I’ve read his personal correspondence and squinted into his family snapshots. I’ve met his kids and have gotten to know his widow. I can recognize his handwriting. In that time, I’ve gotten to know him about as well as I can not actually knowing the man. Schulz was a lot of things, and to me, I’ve only become a bigger fan.
Thanks for everything, Sparky.