My dad used to read bedtime stories to us and at some point I noticed he didn’t have a book in front of him. He was making the stories up. And they were better than the ones in the books. As kids we watched in awe as he painted Disney characters on the heat ducts in our basement. Weekend outings were walks down Atlantic Avenue to look at the trains, real adventures.
He saved some money on our new house in Webster by paneling the family room and the bedroom above it himself. He involved us in the whole process, by betting candy bars on whether the pieces would fit. He dragged a dead tree home and planted it in our backyard. It was beautiful but he took some heat from the neighbors. He hand-dug a built-in swimming pool in our backyard. I don’t remember being much help. He hung four Rouault prints in our living room, a vivid early art influence for me.
My dad embraced technology and was an early adapter. He let me borrow a half megapixel, digital camera, one that Kodak was developing. It was the size of a lunch bucket. He had a Mac II before we did.
We never knew what my dad did for a living because most of his work at Kodak was classified. He did some freelance work at night and I had the opportunity to work with him on slideshows for a computer chip maker. This high-tech company would bring their top scientists into the conference room and they’d describe the advantages of their newest technology while my dad sketched. He had an amazing ability to visually simplify complicated processes. I could sense the respect others had for him. These were high pressure jobs with insane deadlines and Leo was having fun!
His favorite saying was, “I can’t talk without a pencil” Flow charts were his way of organizing the world. He made one on his iPad a couple of weeks ago in Highland Hospital where he laid out the chain of command for the doctors in charge of his care.
Leo was incredibly active in retirement. He was always doing a research project, presentations or websites. I was his tech support and I got drawn into his many projects. We took a painting class together for twenty years. He called it “therapy.” Getting to know Leo in all these situations, not just as my dad but as an interesting and unique human being, was a real treat. It was a privilege to be able to help him near the end of his life.
Leo’s computer is at our place now because he asked us to finish a few projects. He is still getting email. LeoDodd.com is still online and there are plenty of new paintings to post. The wildflowers in Edmunds Woods will still come up again this year. But as Leo would say, you’ll have to get there early in the Spring, well before the leaves fill in.
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