Quinn's Graduation 12/11/10

Quinn graduated from WSU yesterday.  He "walked" under his real first name John as a tribute to his Grandfather whom he is named after.  I am so proud of him!  He was the only Asian Studies graduate and so had his own department.  The paperwork got screwed up and he almost wasn't allowed to participate but he gave them hell and they ended up moving him to right at the top of the program.  Well done Sir!

Thirty three years ago today against a snow filled sky in Coeur d'Alene, my sweet baby girl, Erinn was born.  Happy Birthday Erinn!

In the spirit of Halloween.  1956.  My Mom made the costume, it's Michael the Arch-Angel of course.  Aluminum foil and wire hangers, I thought avenging angels were pretty cool at 6.  The only "Crusade" I was on was for candy.  That's my Dad's helmet on the kid next to me.  On the right Danny Steele and his sister.

Senior Prom, 1968.  I had just washed the Ford LTD and ready to pick up my date.  I have no idea why having ill fitting too short pants was in, but there you have it.  I had to rent the tux.  My Dad insisted on taking the photo.  Senior Prom was a really big deal.

1955 Summer.  We had just moved out from the City.  This was the new house at 20 Chestnut Rd.  This is my Aunt Catherine, Butch (Hugh), me, and a neighbor kid.  On the right is my Aunt Stella and my Mom with her perpetual smile.  Moving out of the City was a big deal.  Northbrook offered better schools, a more rural setting, and the greater expectations of the Middle-Class.  There is a dream-like quality to this photo that has always mesmerized me.

Left to right, Jim's Wife (Terry?), unknown, Aunt Regina, Mom, Me, Aunt Catherine. 1957.  Aunt Catherine was my favorite Aunt.  She used to take me to Downtown Chicago for New Year's Eve.  We'd eat at a steak place and see a movie.  Erinn has the video tape interviews I did with her before her death.  Many Family historical facts in that interview.

I'm not quite sure what this is.  It has the feel of a promotional shot (7-up labels turned toward camera).  I think I remember Mom telling me something about it being local.  At any, rate that's me on the poster.  Check out the bow-tie on that guy.  It's hard to believe, but that's the way people dressed back then. 1953.

This is Camp Macajawan.    August 1963.  A one week Boy Scout camp in Wisconsin.  My Dad volunteered a couple of days to help out.  All I remember was the mile swim, and the eclipse.  There was a close to total solar eclipse while I was there.  It was very cool seeing it in the woods.  I'm not in this picture because I am taking it.  There should have been merit badges in smoking and skipping church, those are the two main  things I learned in Boy Scouts.

So, living in the Midwest, in the late 60"s, sports was a huge thing.  I was always good enough to make the team, but never good enough to star.  This is 1968 discus, 1965 football (I am #74).  I quit football in 65.  It just seemed a waste of time.  I stayed with discus so I could "letter" in a varsity sport.  Wearing a Letter Sweater was a prerequisite for dating a certain group of girls.

What a hoot!  Shot put was not my thing, but, I had to do it to throw discus.  Notice the young lady, clearly, approving of my form.  Nice facial expression!  I look like I'm passing a stone......

My Dad was always game for this stuff.  Two flatlanders mesmerized by the views.

Ok.....so that's kind of cool!  Kyle if that was you back then, you owe me a $75.00 bar tab.

My best friend, Rob Menary and I at Pat O'Reilly's bar on Bourbon St., August 1969.  Just a few days before Hurricane Camille hit.  I was going to school for one semester at Pensacola Junior College.  It was an excuse to play in Florida.  After 5 months there, I had had enough.  Too humid, too hot, too red-neck southern.  People used to yell at me from their cars because my hair was too long.  I grew it out after this photo.  They would call me a "Hippie".  I didn't care what they thought.  Rob is still a great, great, friend.  We were drinking the World famous "Hurricane" here.  You got to keep the glass for free.  The photo, though, cost a buck.

1961 or so.  My Mom would have these picnics in our yard, and invite relatives from the city to them.  Left to right, Mom, Butch (actual name Hugh Sours, Catherine's (Myrtle's sister) son.), Uncle Jim's Wife, unknown, unknown, Jake (Marion's son).  Jake was my favorite cousin, he was always getting in trouble and was a natural comic.  Butch is trying to hide from the camera, he was like my Mom that way.

So this is 1959.  The watering can trophy for best looking yard was a big deal in our neighborhood.  It seems so stupid now, though.  My Dad worked his butt off on our yard.  It looked like a fairway on an expensive Country Club golf course.  I always thought it was a waste of my time.  Mowing was my job and our yard was over 1/2 acre.  In the humid summers of the midwest, it seemed a needless ordeal.

Something funny about a geyser named spasmodic, no?  Yellowstone 1964.  These vacations always included great things like this.  My Mom would plan these a year in advance.  The very next year we went to the Grand Canyon.  I got to ride the mules down to the bottom and back.  There was always something about the West that I loved.  I knew even then that I wanted to live out here.  I'm starting to grow my hair out here.  The Beatles were the rage then and I wanted to go for that "Bang" look.

1964 in Colorado.  White Levi pants, dark socks, I'm 14 and this is what was "in" to wear at my high school (Glenbrook North).  Mom took the photo so she wouldn't have to be in it.  Dad was in "drive" mode.  I'm sure we had many more miles to cover.  My Father had a real problem relaxing.  He had ulcers and was a type "A" personality.  He also had a wonderful Irish tenor voice.  He would often break out singing while driving or fishing.  My Mom and I enjoyed it greatly.

So we used to take these vacations every summer.  This is 1964.  It is my first trip west to see the mountains. People who live out here take the mountains for granted.  In the midwest it's big mojo.  We would drive 600 miles a day, so there was a lot of together time.  My Dad would get pissed if we got off schedule.  It was like being in a cross country race.  This was one of our few stops.  My Mom would make these trips fun with games and conversation.

I took this photo of Mom just a few days before she died.  Mom had rheumatic fever as a child and it had left her heart weakened.  She caught some virus and it became a walking pneumonia type thing.  She collapsed on Sunday August 7, 1966.  My Dad called our MD and he showed up and tried to revive her.  An ambulance arrived and they took her away.  The whole scene was surreal.  Later that evening my Dad and I just stared at each other.  Such loss!  The ambulance guy came back and demanded his money.  I will never forget the look in my Dad's face.  It scared me more than anything else.

This is me and my cousin Jake Jatras.  My Dad's sister's (Marian) kid.  Jake grew up to be a gun nut and an editor of gun, para-military magazines.  But on this summer he was just a cool older kid to hang with.

Ok, so this is me and my best friend Glen Zoerner.  Summer, 1960.  This was a really cool period to grow up.  It was before "hellicopter parents".  We were unsupervised, and adventurous, and had endless summer days to check out whatever the hell we wanted.  If you want a real feel for it, watch the movie "Stand By Me".

This is Mom in the Summer of 1960.  This is my favorite photo of her.  It's one of the few photos of herself that she actually liked.

My Father was featured in the Northbrook Star in 1958.  Part of the now famous Postman series.  He never did graduate from Calumet High, and he was a Baker in the Army not an Engineer.  Everything else is correct.

This was the official Maytag Christmas Card for 1953.  See the race car on the dresser?  That was really mine.  This was part of larger picture that included my model parents listening at the door, the tag line was me asking God to get my fake mother a Maytag Washing Machine.  Nice cross imagery over my head.  My parents got like a million of these free so we were set for a couple of Christmases.

Cover photo Christmas catalog 1953 (either Sears, or Wards).

Christmas catalog cover photo 1953.  Check out the guy with the gun, what a real man my fake father was...lol.  He looks like he's preparing to shoot "Sis".  I don't remember the other models, but I wanted that train set real bad.

This was the campaign that was the highlight of my modelling career.  Look, Life, and Ladies Home Journal, June 1953.  Glossy photo, full page, back cover in Life.  It was also on Billboards all throughout the country. This must have made my folks not only proud, but the check must have been huge by 1954 standards.

This picture ran in the Northbrook Star around 1960.  Cover photo with caption about the mail rush for Christmas type thing.  The guy on my Dad's left was called "Little Ed".  "Big Ed" also worked there..lol.
My Dad became foreman of the letter carriers around this time.  My Dad always smelled outdoorsy and his skin from constant exposure to the sun was well tanned and ruddy looking.  He much preferred steady Government work to the better paying brick laying.  He was a worrier, who was always afraid of being cast back to his impoverished childhood.  He also worked as a janitor at Meadowbrook Elementary School.  He would work a 6am to 3pm shift at the "PO", and then go to the school and work another 3 1/2 hours there.  He did this 5 days a week, every week from 1954 till my Mom's death in 1966. The truth is, if he wasn't working, he was feeling guilty about not working.  This successful strategy got him out of the orphanage and off the north-side streets during the Great Depression.  This strategy also gave him ulcers, and shortened his life.

My first catalog photo.

This ran in the Montgomery Wards catalog I think.  The layout includes a poorly blocked product description, and a mysterious chair leg.  There was no photoshop back then, this was literally "cut and paste" with real scissors and glue!  I don't remember much from these days.  My Mom told me I couldn't wait to get in the studio, and always "pitched a fit" when it was time to leave.

This was the photo that launched my modeling career.  It was the highlight of my early portfolio.  My Mom was approached somewhere in Downtown Chicago with me about my modeling.  She was always very protective and careful about these gigs.  She wanted to make sure it was never work for me.  The truth is I loved modeling.  I liked the attention and there was something about the studio lights that made me feel relaxed.  This is the reason I chose TV for my career, the studio, always felt like home to me.  This photo ran in the Chicago Tribune under the header "Local Casey Jones in National Billboard campaign" or some such nonsense.  I am told I was the consummate professional.  I was always ready, took direction well, and wanted to please the photographer with every take.  1953

This was scanned from a laminated picture my Dad kept in his wallet till the day he died (April 10, 1971).  It is me at age 1.  I don't know why he kept this particular photo.  There are no photos that survived of my Dad's parents.  Patrick J. Murray, and Helen Hannigan.  Helen died in a fire around 1928.  She was burned to death in front of Patrick after an oil heater accident.  My Dad led his sisters out the window on a ledge to safety.  He heard the screams of Helen and it haunted him all of his days.  Patrick tried to smother the flames on Helen but it was too late.  It ruined Patrick's life.  A once proud streetcar conductor in Chicago, Patrick died trying to visit my Dad at St. Mary's orphanage in the early 30's.  He had become an alcoholic wreck.  He was run over by a car.  The Murray Family photos did not survive the blaze.

This is a photo of my parents first home on Ibsen Ave, In Chicago.  My father took the photo coming home from work at the Post Office.  This is 1952.  I have started working as a child model and am loving the attention that comes with that.  In the window you can see me waiting for him to get home.

My Uncle Jim took this photo on Tuesday June13, 1950.  My Dad has just taken me and my Mom home from the hospital.  My parents, like every parent of that era were scared to death of Polio.  Every summer there would be tens of thousands of cases effecting mostly small children.  Children with this disease often faced the prospect of living in an iron lung.  On this day, though, they were happier than hell.  They had been trying to get pregnant for almost 2 years.

My Dad during WW2.  My Dad used to try and make My Mom feel jealous by pointing out that the beautiful singer in this photo at the USO Canteen was clearly enamored with him.  My Mom would feign jealousy.  That's my Dad (with the silly-ass grin) sitting next to her on her left side.  1943, Honolulu.

My Mom's graduation picture in 1939.  She graduated at the top of her class and was editor of the school newspaper at St. Scholastica High School, Chicago

A young and rakish looking couple on 5/31/1947.  My Dad was a bricklayer then and my Mom did office work.  They were saving for their first house and beginning to talk of having a family.  The economy was booming and home ownership was now attainable for the growing middle class.  My Father was raised at St. Mary's Orphanage during the depression.  This must have seemed like a dream come true for him.

This is Mariellen in 1929, age 7.  This is a studio photo and in color (a rarity then).  Check that hairstyle!  This was right before the stock market crash.  Herman her stepfather was a Butcher, and thus my Mom was spared from the grinding poverty my Dad faced.

This was taken about 1947.  Left to right it is John, Mariellen, My Uncle, Jim Steindle, Myrtle Steindle (Welsh), and Herman Steindle.  Herman married Myrtle after Harry died.  Jim is about 12 here.  He was a fun Uncle who was as much a child as I was when I was one.  He is the child of Herman and Myrtle.  He died sometime in the 1970s.  Herman was a German butcher whose breath perpetually smelled of beer and cigars.  He used to hold me in his lap and always called me "Muscles".  He died about 1954.  Look at the smiles on Myrtle and Mariellen.......

This is John and Mariellen as best man and maid of honor for their best friends.  It is my favorite photo of them.  My Dad's best friend, who was the groom this day, was killed in Europe a year later.  This was taken shortly before my Dad left for the Pacific Theater.  The year is 1941, My Mom and Dad are newlyweds themselves.

This is the oldest photograph I have.  It is of Myrtle Welsh, my Grandmother.  This is circa 1903.  I never met Myrtle, as she died before my birth (1948?). Her and Harry Welsh married just before WWI.  Harry was in the trenches and exposed to gas attacks.  He returned with severe respiratory problems and died when my Mom was still little.  Myrtle was born and raised in Chicago.  From what my Mom told me, Myrtle was much like her, outgoing and warm.

This is my Mother, Mariellen Welsh Murray.  This is a studio shot probably taken in Colorado, where she spent her early childhood in Sterling. It was taken in 1924.  She was always smiling, not just in photographs, and her smile could light up a room.  Vivacious and outgoing, she had more friends than anyone I have ever known.