Around 1914, Joe Mack who came to the this country from Canada as a barber and after talking to one of his customers who worked as a layout man for painters, decided to go into the printing business and as he was a wonderful salesman, he landed a lot of printing used by the growing auto business and he was getting rich on Ford, General Motors, and other auto companies by handling their catalog business, and all the art work connected with it. I went to work for Joe doing catalog work in winter and poster work in the summer. He knew nothing about printing or art work, but could talk art or painting in a manner that you feel he was another Rembrandt or Ben Franklin and if you knew better, you felt he was kidding you. He was a smoothly and I remember him coming to my drawing table one day, and handing me a couple of sheets of paper and asking me if I would make out a list of all the girls in his bindery (a place where books are bound) that weren't decent. I was shocked at first, but it gradually dawned on me that all he wanted to do was keep out of the bindery, which I tried to do, but that bindery was a hard place to stay away from. Mack did some wonderful printing in this period, and had a very good art department and turned out automobile material by the millions.

From Mack's, I went to the Detroit Photo Engraving Company run by Lew Catz who was a great friend of Mayer Marx and all the politicians of Detroit, and eventually became one of the Fire Commissioners. One of the art jobs I remember very well was making the bird’s eye views of the E.M.F. Auto Factories when they were trying to sell the firm to Studerbaker. LeRoy Pellitier was an adverting man which handled part of the deal. He did a good job and Studerbaker eventually bought the entire E.M.F. organization. I made a good piece of jack working overtime and Sundays, making the building look as large and appealing as my conscience let me. After paying me overtime quite awhile, they put me in charge of the studio and gave me a weekly salary and my good paydays were over as foremen got no overtime.

Harvey Campbell, a good looking smooth talking young man was our head salesman, assistant manager and general all around guy, and we became friends and we worked together on jobs and had a wonderful time and many adventures while following up on these jobs. We pretty nearly ended our careers on one of these trips as Harvey who was driving the firms Brush car, was driving along side of a wagon load of barrels and forgot to stop when the wagon stopped. We got hit by a Michigan Ave. street car, and I can still see the motorman trying to stop that street car. Harvey forgot to take his foot off the gas, and the thing that saved us was the weight of the car as we went up in the air about six feet and then ran into one of the stores and stopped. There was lots of excitement, I forgot my name, but Harvey remembers it and we stayed alive and the old Brush ran as good as ever. These were happy days for all Detroiters, everybody was working, eating, and even some were getting rich.

Another night I remember was a New Years affair. Mayer Marx and Lew Catz had reservations at one of the best night clubs to see the New Years in and for some reason they couldn't go, and he gave me and his younger brother Charlie the reservations and told us to have a good time.

The time was short and as Charlie was having girl trouble, I got him one of my girl friends and I got my usual blonde, and away we went. I can still see that proprietor when he took us to the table reserved for the Marx and Catz and guest. Charlie girl didn't like him, and tried to get him out of her mind with scotch and sodas and the blond recognized the other girl as a former girl friend of mine and that made for a hectic evening. Charles and I finally had a good time after the fifth drink, and the cafe owner never seemed to appreciate us.

Everybody was working hard in these days and not getting enough sleep, and I had a feeling I needed exercise and joined the old Central YMCA, and I'll tell you that is a wonderful organization and they did a lot for me and a lot of my friends I could in joining. I took up swimming, played a little basketball, ran on the track, but the sport I really like was hand-ball. Larry Strony was a friend of mine who was all run down and nervous. We decided to take the game serious--played together as a doubles and eventually won the Hand-ball Championship of Detroit. We got our names on the first plaque donated by Ty Cobb. I was a proud guy.

Larry Strony went on to become one of the best players of the period, and he had the best kill shot I have ever seen, but I seemed to lack the guts it takes to kill yourself to get a cup, and just played for fun--that's what all poor players say.