In the annals of American history, March 2nd is not the most noticeable of dates.
True, it can be claimed as the birthday of both Desi Arnaz and Mikhail Gorbachev and, for those whose tastes run somewhat darker, it’s the day cowboy actor Randolph Scott died.
And those Americans who are truly students of history know that March 2nd would was the date in 1923 when the first issue of Time Magazine rolled off the presses.
They also know that, on that same date in 1927, Babe Ruth was listed as the highest paid player in baseball (he earned $70,000 that year). Further, historians can tell you that on March 2nd, 1933, King Kong premiered at the Radio City Music Hall.
On March 2, 1950, Silly Putty was invented.
Fourteen years later, the Beatles would film “A Hard Day’s Night” and on March 2, 1974, a federal grand jury would conclude President Nixon was involved in Watergate.
Still, even these events don’t accurately portray the true importance of March 2nd.
For that, you must jump back to 1904, where, in Springfield Massachusetts, a young child was born to a family of second-generation German immigrants.
Named after his grandfather, and his mother (her maiden name) he would be called “Ted” around the house.
Though, legally, he was Theodor Seuss Geisel. It was his fictional degree — years later, while attending Dartmouth, he would supply himself with a Doctorate — coupled with his mother’s maiden name that the rest of the world would come to know him by.
Dr. Seuss.
For millions he is known as the author of 47 silly, irreverent (and very funny) children’s books.
For others, he was a subversive who destroyed children’s literature and sought to impose his “liberal views” on the rest of society.
And to a select few, he was the childlike friend down the road who loved a vodka martini and enjoyed composing bawdy limericks.
With a literary career which spanned five decades and included a Pulitzer Price, Seuss was considered just “an average” student at Dartmouth.
Granted, he attended Oxford University, but never actually earned his Doctorate.
Instead, he loafed.
He spent years traveling throughout the country promoting reading (and his books), yet he was painfully shy and absolutely hated public appearances.
He was loved by children across the globe, yet he was not particularly fond of anyone under 21 and, never had children of his own.
Today, more than a decade after his death, Seuss is still one of the most recognized authors in the country and, unlike many others, can claim that all of his work remains in print.
But Theodor Seuss Geisel didn’t start out to write children’s books.
Instead he was an illustrator and an editorial cartoonist.
He got his first real break in 1927 when the Saturday Evening Post purchased a cartoon for $25. Ted signed his work simply, “Seuss” but the editors of the Post added the line, “Drawn by Theodor Seuss Geisel.
It was not an auspicious beginning.
Seuss struggled.
Then, in 1938 as he and his wife, while he and his wife returned from an extended vacation, Seuss noticed the rhythm of the ship’s engine, as it chugged across the ocean. With that sound in his ears, Seuss penned a story about a young boy walking home and telling and somewhat exaggerated tale of what he saw.
The result was entitled, A story no one can beat.
And it was rejected by 27 different publishers.
Most told Seuss that his tale was “too different.” Or that it didn’t have a “moral or a message to help children grow up and be good citizens.”
Seuss, who felt that children should be allowed to read for the joy of it, grew disheartened. In fact, after the 27th rejection he bundled he book up and headed home to “burn the manuscript.”
But fate, again, held the upper hand.
On his way down Madison Avenue, he encountered an friend from college, who just hours before, had been named the children’s editor of Vanguard Press.
The pair struck up a conversation and, Seuss’ book was purchased. However, instead of bring printed with the title, “A story no one can beat,” the book saw life as “And to think that I saw it on Mulberry Street.”
Dr. Seuss had found his calling.
And children found their hero.
Over the years seuss would pen dozens of books which made kids laugh, simle but, most of all, made them read.
Dick and Jane were history.
Seuss’ skill with rhyme, his ability to invent new words and his quirky, wonderful drawings sat children’s literature on its ear.
And still, today, almost two decades after his death, seuss’ work is still with us.
Beginning readers still laugh at the “Cat in the Hat,” and, this year, a new full-lengh animated version of “Horton Hears a Who” hits the theater.
So while many in the world consider March 2nd just another day, for those of us who still hang with the good Doctor, March 2nd is a landmark event.
On that day day we remind ourselves of the joy of reading.
We also visit McElligot’s Pool, learn from the Lorax and even imagine what it would be like to run the circus.
And on March 2, we pause and can be thankful that the man who rejected by 27 different publishers, didn’t really have a doctorate, and wasn’t that fond of kids, walked among us.
True, it can be claimed as the birthday of both Desi Arnaz and Mikhail Gorbachev and, for those whose tastes run somewhat darker, it’s the day cowboy actor Randolph Scott died.
And those Americans who are truly students of history know that March 2nd would was the date in 1923 when the first issue of Time Magazine rolled off the presses.
They also know that, on that same date in 1927, Babe Ruth was listed as the highest paid player in baseball (he earned $70,000 that year). Further, historians can tell you that on March 2nd, 1933, King Kong premiered at the Radio City Music Hall.
On March 2, 1950, Silly Putty was invented.
Fourteen years later, the Beatles would film “A Hard Day’s Night” and on March 2, 1974, a federal grand jury would conclude President Nixon was involved in Watergate.
Still, even these events don’t accurately portray the true importance of March 2nd.
For that, you must jump back to 1904, where, in Springfield Massachusetts, a young child was born to a family of second-generation German immigrants.
Named after his grandfather, and his mother (her maiden name) he would be called “Ted” around the house.
Though, legally, he was Theodor Seuss Geisel. It was his fictional degree — years later, while attending Dartmouth, he would supply himself with a Doctorate — coupled with his mother’s maiden name that the rest of the world would come to know him by.
Dr. Seuss.
For millions he is known as the author of 47 silly, irreverent (and very funny) children’s books.
For others, he was a subversive who destroyed children’s literature and sought to impose his “liberal views” on the rest of society.
And to a select few, he was the childlike friend down the road who loved a vodka martini and enjoyed composing bawdy limericks.
With a literary career which spanned five decades and included a Pulitzer Price, Seuss was considered just “an average” student at Dartmouth.
Granted, he attended Oxford University, but never actually earned his Doctorate.
Instead, he loafed.
He spent years traveling throughout the country promoting reading (and his books), yet he was painfully shy and absolutely hated public appearances.
He was loved by children across the globe, yet he was not particularly fond of anyone under 21 and, never had children of his own.
Today, more than a decade after his death, Seuss is still one of the most recognized authors in the country and, unlike many others, can claim that all of his work remains in print.
But Theodor Seuss Geisel didn’t start out to write children’s books.
Instead he was an illustrator and an editorial cartoonist.
He got his first real break in 1927 when the Saturday Evening Post purchased a cartoon for $25. Ted signed his work simply, “Seuss” but the editors of the Post added the line, “Drawn by Theodor Seuss Geisel.
It was not an auspicious beginning.
Seuss struggled.
Then, in 1938 as he and his wife, while he and his wife returned from an extended vacation, Seuss noticed the rhythm of the ship’s engine, as it chugged across the ocean. With that sound in his ears, Seuss penned a story about a young boy walking home and telling and somewhat exaggerated tale of what he saw.
The result was entitled, A story no one can beat.
And it was rejected by 27 different publishers.
Most told Seuss that his tale was “too different.” Or that it didn’t have a “moral or a message to help children grow up and be good citizens.”
Seuss, who felt that children should be allowed to read for the joy of it, grew disheartened. In fact, after the 27th rejection he bundled he book up and headed home to “burn the manuscript.”
But fate, again, held the upper hand.
On his way down Madison Avenue, he encountered an friend from college, who just hours before, had been named the children’s editor of Vanguard Press.
The pair struck up a conversation and, Seuss’ book was purchased. However, instead of bring printed with the title, “A story no one can beat,” the book saw life as “And to think that I saw it on Mulberry Street.”
Dr. Seuss had found his calling.
And children found their hero.
Over the years seuss would pen dozens of books which made kids laugh, simle but, most of all, made them read.
Dick and Jane were history.
Seuss’ skill with rhyme, his ability to invent new words and his quirky, wonderful drawings sat children’s literature on its ear.
And still, today, almost two decades after his death, seuss’ work is still with us.
Beginning readers still laugh at the “Cat in the Hat,” and, this year, a new full-lengh animated version of “Horton Hears a Who” hits the theater.
So while many in the world consider March 2nd just another day, for those of us who still hang with the good Doctor, March 2nd is a landmark event.
On that day day we remind ourselves of the joy of reading.
We also visit McElligot’s Pool, learn from the Lorax and even imagine what it would be like to run the circus.
And on March 2, we pause and can be thankful that the man who rejected by 27 different publishers, didn’t really have a doctorate, and wasn’t that fond of kids, walked among us.
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