When ''Sweet Cynthia'' and ''Cousin Rick'' toured Fred Lasswell's studio, they found a high-tech operation and a gracious host.
By RICHARD DANIELSON
© St. Petersburg Times, published March 6, 2001
Snuffy Smith probably would not have felt at home in the art studio of Fred Lasswell, the man who drew Snuffy for more than half a century and died at his bayfront home in Tampa on Sunday.
The studio, on an upper floor of a West Shore office building filled with law firms, engineering companies and the like, was too big an operation, too modern and too cosmopolitan.
That, of course, came as a surprise when my fiancee, Cyndi, and I accepted Lasswell's invitation for a tour in 1996. On a lark, we had written an essay for the Times, saying, if they can make a movie out of the Phantom, why not Snuffy Smith?
We thought Lasswell's strip contained a gold mine of cultural signifiers and flattered ourselves to think that it took a sophisticated sense of humor to see that many of Snuffy's twitches were actually winks. (Yes, we bonded over a comic strip; there is a lid for every trash can.)
In response, Lasswell sent thank-you notes addressed to "Sweet Cynthia" and "Cousin Rick" and invited us to come by the studio where he and an assistant put the strip together.
Lasswell had just turned 80 at the time, and he had worked on the strip since 1934, so I expected to meet a pen-and-ink traditionalist. Instead, we saw a suite of offices filled with graphics computers. He also had a roomful of filing cabinets, stuffed with indexed drawings of Snuffy & Co. in familiar settings. If Lasswell ever needed a reminder of how Snuffy looked holding his chicken-stealing sack (which I doubt), he probably had it in that room.
Lasswell had taken to technology not only as a production tool, but as a teaching opportunity. He showed us a videotape he sold by mail order in which he, as Uncle Fred, taught kids how to draw a series of increasingly sophisticated "cartoonies." We left that day with an order form for the videotape, which we thought would be an ideal gift for nieces and nephews.
Lasswell was also more industrious than his creation. When we called to accept his invitation, we expected to leave a message on his office answering machine. Lasswell, working on a Saturday morning, picked right up.
And he was gracious. When we showed up for the tour, Cyndi and I were the equivalent of flatlander tourists, dropping by to soak up a little cornpone atmosphere. Snuffy, quite rightly, probably would have run us off with a shotgun. Lasswell welcomed us, impressed us and sent us away thinking that there was much more to the man than his comic strip.
That thought should come as no surprise to the distributor of "Snuffy Smith," which has said the comic will go on.
"Oh yes, the strip will continue," said Erin Ketin, a spokeswoman for King Features Syndicate. "We don't know yet who will draw it, but we're in the process of identifying an appropriate match."
I can only say good luck to that. Lasswell recognized that Snuffy, too, was a multifaceted character. Five years ago, after decades of moonshining, Snuffy suddenly decided to dismantle his still. Lasswell said that, with the problem of drunk driving and whatnot, Snuffy's relationship to his still had run its course.
But he didn't predict where Snuffy's move from pre-industrial to postmodern life might take him.
"I don't have any idea, because he's a person of his own ilk," Lasswell said at the time. "He does things that surprise me."
'Snuffy Smith' artist dies at 84 (March 5, 2001)
Cartoonist had more fame than most have 'ever seed' (November 22, 2000)