A Brief Meeting with Dr. Seuss
In November, 1983, I had the good fortune to meet Theodor S. Geisel, better known to the general public (and especially to countless numbers of children) as Dr. Seuss. It happened when the late author, sporting a white beard and a bow tie, made a rare appearance one evening, at a bookstore in Walnut Creek, California. Even though I was then a full thirty years of age, I was still in complete awe of the man who had created Thidwick the Big-Hearted Moose, If I Ran the Zoo, Horton Hears a Who!, The Cat in the Hat, and other famous books.
I was third in a long line of people waiting to speak with Dr. Seuss. He sat alone behind a small table in a corner at the front of the store, carefully signing copies of his books. The young and old who had gathered there to meet him, ranging from those who were so tiny that they were still taking their first steps to those who now had children (and in some cases, grandchildren) of their own, were quietly worshipful as they waited. It was as if we were being granted a private audience with the Pope or the Dalai Lama.
When it was my turn to approach the great man, who was seventy-nine at the time, I found that I could scarcely utter a word to him. I nervously stepped forward, and, after taking a deep breath, I finally succeeded in telling him, somewhat haltingly, how much I had enjoyed reading his many books. After he signed my new copy of How the Grinch Stole Christmas!, writing "Dr. Seuss" in the lower corner of a page in his playful, distinctive script, he looked up at me and grinned, and then said, in a sly tone, "You're too old to be reading them!"
Many years after my brief meeting with Dr. Seuss, his books are as highly regarded as ever, and continue to be joyfully passed from one generation to the next. From his first book, And to Think That I Saw It on Mulberry Street, to his last, Oh, the Places You'll Go!, his inventive stories and fanciful drawings have endured. It seems likely that as long as there are children in the world (and as long there are grownups who keep a spark of childhood within themselves), the books of Dr. Seuss will be known and loved.
I was third in a long line of people waiting to speak with Dr. Seuss. He sat alone behind a small table in a corner at the front of the store, carefully signing copies of his books. The young and old who had gathered there to meet him, ranging from those who were so tiny that they were still taking their first steps to those who now had children (and in some cases, grandchildren) of their own, were quietly worshipful as they waited. It was as if we were being granted a private audience with the Pope or the Dalai Lama.
When it was my turn to approach the great man, who was seventy-nine at the time, I found that I could scarcely utter a word to him. I nervously stepped forward, and, after taking a deep breath, I finally succeeded in telling him, somewhat haltingly, how much I had enjoyed reading his many books. After he signed my new copy of How the Grinch Stole Christmas!, writing "Dr. Seuss" in the lower corner of a page in his playful, distinctive script, he looked up at me and grinned, and then said, in a sly tone, "You're too old to be reading them!"
Many years after my brief meeting with Dr. Seuss, his books are as highly regarded as ever, and continue to be joyfully passed from one generation to the next. From his first book, And to Think That I Saw It on Mulberry Street, to his last, Oh, the Places You'll Go!, his inventive stories and fanciful drawings have endured. It seems likely that as long as there are children in the world (and as long there are grownups who keep a spark of childhood within themselves), the books of Dr. Seuss will be known and loved.