Floral - 16x20, framed, oil, Masonite, signed
Courtesy of Brian and Heather Hughes
Located at 913 Meridian Avenue in South Pasadena, California, Meridian Iron Works c.1890 is now a museum, South Pasadena Historical Museum. The structure has a kind of false front typical of the frontier wild west. Back in the day this two story redwood building was a general store and as time went on it functioned as a hotel, ticket office, telegraph station, bicycle shop, chapel and a school. In1943 became a foundry know as Meridian Iron Works. San Gabriel is four miles to South Pasadena so Dick definitely was in close proximity of Meridian Iron Works and passed it frequently. Dick’s interpretation is maybe of the 1940s view, weathered and stoic. The building looks to be a work horse on Sunday waiting for Monday.
The image is the similar in color scheme to Dick’s #30 1909 Stoddard Dayton but this earlier vehicle only has front seats and no windshield.
#3
1906 Autocar Roadster 12x16, framed,
oil, signed Burg and D. Burg 1965 (on back)
Untitled
Tree and foothills watercolor, unframed,
unsigned
A
quant village scene south of the boarder, townsfolk going about their business.
The lady with the basket seems to be on a mission and greeting neighbors along
the way.
#103
Lady with Basket 12x16, framed, Acrylic,
canvass on Masonite, signed
Another
other story from my sister Pat and took place at the Northfield house in the
Palisades was about my Dad. He bought a bitch Cocker Spaniel thinking he would
make a quick buck breeding purebreds. Her name was Lady Tupper, the heroine of
a novel by Daphne DeMaurier (Jamaica Inn, The Birds, Rebecca all became
Hitchcock movies) that Mom was reading at the time. The whole thing turned into
a fiasco. Dad inadvertently had bred the bitch to its own father. Probably
didn’t check all the papers properly. On
the night of delivery the dog only had four pups. She deposited them all over
the floor in the garage and they nearly froze to death. My Mother tried to
revive them by wrapping them up in towels and placing them on the door of the
oven to thaw them out. They survived for a while and eventually one died; they
gave one to the person for a stud fee, and another they sold. Dad ended up
keeping the last female. Her name was Candy. She was a lovable mutant with a
large bump on her head. So much for Dad’s “Quick Buck” foray. This was the dog
from my earliest childhood memory.