Issue link: http://digital.copcomm.com/i/629850
52 P E R S P E C T I V E | M A R C H / A P R I L 2 0 1 6 Anyway, I had worked my way into that area and started at Universal Films and it was a magic day of course, when you smell that old ammonia coming out of the machine and rubber cement coming out and the blueprint boy walking up and down and all those things we've all seen. They ushered me in, and I was greeted by a wonderful jolly little fellow—I don't know if any of you know him—his name was Ralph DeLacy. He had come from Broadway, New York, and he had a novel way of making his point. He always did it with a little song, a little dance. He greeted me at the door, and took me by the arm at the same time, and ushered me over to this desk. It was quite a large desk, but not set off by partitions; it sat out right opposite the drafting tables. I sat down and the seat was still warm. The leather was warm and there was a portion of a lit cigar in the ashtray. Ralph sat opposite: it was a double-faced desk, Ralph was here and I was here. I said, making a little joke, "This seat's warm, and with this thing in the ashtray it feels like someone else's desk; it feels quite occupied." And he said, "No, he's not with us anymore." He said, "He left us this morning. He was a very fine chap, but had a little trouble balancing his budget." I'm not going to mention any names tonight, because we're all laughing and it was a very serious matter. But it happens, that particular individual hung himself that morning on Universal's New York Street. Later, when I took my walk, the body was coming down. It happened that somehow that director had got a little screwed up about what was the sunny side and the shadow side of the street. The poor chap had been instructed to put it on the sunny side and then there was a change of plan and of course, when you move about fifteen buildings from the north side to the south side, it affects the budget. There he was. I guess it was that and a few other things. Anyway, too much pressure. I started in that old period when we had art supervisors in all major studios. You have to understand, some of the supervisors of Art Directors were brilliant, talented men and could have competed on their own on the single basis anytime. There were also those who couldn't. I had lunch with Jack Otterson and a few other individuals— Carl Laemmle was still at the studio at that time—and he of course, went back to something like 1901 and was an interesting little old chap. And he sat there eating his lunch with me; and Jack was very gracious and well educated. (His father owned a little more than 30% of the stock in Universal.) I was introduced to the great man, Above: The space under the bleachers for the tourists was divided into cubicles for the Art Department.