When I sat in commercial art classes on the University of Louisville Campus, I never dreamed I would end up in North Carolina with the task of painting a Highway Billboard.
At the end of Sunday Mass, Rev. William G. Wellein made the announcement, “Will Mrs. Furgason please see me in the Sacristy?”
My children looked up at me thinking, “What did we do now?”
I looked down at them thinking, “What did they do now?”
Their apprehension was eased when they learned that Father Wellein needed a Billboard painted to advertise the first-ever Parrish Fall Festival. Because I had listed “artist” on the form when we joined Holy Spirit Parish in Jacksonville, North Carolina, I had become his go to person for the occasion.
Now when I wrote “artist” on that form I clearly intended to volunteer for small posters in the vicinity of 16 inches by 20 inches. I remember saying that to Father William G. Wellein that Sunday morning. And I remember him shaking his head.
“No. I have someone else who will do that. I want you to paint the billboard.”
The Highway Billboard of which we are discussing is not the smaller ones now along roadsides. This is the BIG ONES by which Bernie Alwes became famous for producing in Louisville, Kentucky. It was one of the VERY BIG BILLBOARDS that are no longer allowed because they were SO BIG.
“You will do it in sections and the men of the parish will staple it to the wooden structure already in place.” Father William G. Wellein had a plan and either I followed it or I would not even think about walking into a confessional. My forgiveness was out of the question.
The Rectory Garage became my Studio. On the floor, my Canvas was a roll of oilcloth selected for its durability. Bulletin paint was ordered. The announcement letters grew to three and one half feet tall, “Holy Spirit Fall Festival” and the date, which I do not recall. For “Curb appeal” I painted Snoopy sleeping on top of his doghouse with his yellow feathered friend perched on his upturned feet.
Each morning, I would join the children on the bus ride to school. With that rolled-out oilcloth spread on the Rectory Garage floor, I began my Billboard art career. It was very humbling to note that Michelangelo was called upon to reach above his head for ecumenical work while I was brought to my knees by a parish decree. I am sure we shared the same recurring question, “How did I get myself into this?”
The only way out of the adventure I often muttered to myself was to bend over brush those letters, finish and sign the open-air mural. It would be weeks before I could relinquish my seat behind the school bus driver for my five-day-a-week job.
I was not there when the parish volunteers stapled Snoopy and the Large Advertisement to the wooden Billboard structure but I must admit it made a striking impression as one drove down LeJeune Highway. Somewhere in my archives, I have a photo of my great achievement.
The Festival was a success and I was acknowledged to be the Artist in Residence for the Parish. I at last was free of my obligation and smiled when I was dismissed from the garage duty to return to my household chores. Little did I know in my future lay another Billboard announcing A Fall Fashion Show. Tulips would be adorned with eyelashes and lips. That was for another day and another roll of oilcloth. I would take another photo.
After the Tulip Billboard, we moved back to Kentucky and for good measure, I did not mention I knew anything about painting. I went back to writing poetry. It seemed a much safer avenue to explore. One could sit and appear elegant rather than stoop and become weary.