Skip to main content

Charles M. Schulz Museum

I remember it like it was yesterday . . . a biting cold snowy winters’ eve. The wind howled through the trees, a grey landscape blanketed with a new-fallen snow, reflecting the dim glow of streetlights. Like fluffy white sand the snow drifted across the streets and yards. Trudging through the snow that night burned this scene into my memory for one reason, A Charlie Brown Christmas.

Delivering the Canton Daily Ledger in 1968, my first job. Bundled up, running from house-to-house, invited in to get warm, provided me glimpses of the television special destined to become a classic.

That memory was triggered by a mid-summer visit to the Charles M. Schulz Museum and Research Center in Santa Rosa, CA. A long way from blistering cold wind and deep snow drifts. However, as we strolled the galleries vivid impressions of how Peanuts shaped my life as a small boy flooded my thoughts.

The Peanuts Cartoon Strip is the heart and soul of the collection. The Museum’s collection represents a wide breadth of Schulz’s thematic work from 1950 to 2000. Numbering nearly 6,000 drawings for daily and Sunday newspaper pages.

Remember Charlie Brown’s legendary kick? Inevitability Lucy merrily snatches victory from Chuck. That image, a 17 x 22 foot tile mural, adorns the south wall of the Great Hall.  It is composed of 3,588 Peanuts comic strip images printed on individual 2- by 8-inch ceramic tiles.

How about the kite eating tree? Stroll to the courtyard, there you will see the infamous tree that always frustrated poor Charlie Brown.

My personal favorite, the exhibit titled Leveling the Playing Field. On display was original artwork of Charlie Brown baseball cap atop his head, poised with right index finger raised, lecturing his team; “Today team we face the beginning of a new season.” Always positive he continues . . . “The success of the team depends a lot upon its attitude. We can look forward to this season with real anticipation.” The final frame, the team with the caption, “No we’re looking forward to it with real horror!”

With my thoughts dancing between the memory of that cold windy night and the sheer joy of life's rich experiences triggered by a comic strip, I pensively smile and once again experience the delight of re-discovery . . . maybe it was just yesterday.

Comments

Most Popular of All Time

Finding Our Place

In this episode,  Finding Our Place: Hope and Humanity in the Age of AI . . . Yesterday, I overheard a conversation that echoed a question many of us are quietly asking: In a world increasingly shaped by algorithms, where do we , as humans, truly fit in? My younger colleagues, sharp and driven, were "joking" about AI taking their jobs. Their concerns felt valid, prompting me to reflect. Will machines really replace us? My answer, unequivocally, is No . And here’s why. What makes us uniquely human isn't merely our ability to perform tasks. It's our innate capacity for creativity and our deep-seated need to serve others. These aren't just abstract ideas; they are the very essence of what gives meaning to our lives and work. While AI excels at processing data and automating tasks with incredible speed, it cannot replicate the spark of human ingenuity. It lacks the empathy to truly understand unspoken needs or the intuitive synergy that fosters breakthrough solutio...

Chasing the Magic

In this episode, Chasing the Magic: How the Summer of ’98 Inspired the 'Ball Boys' . . .  Do you remember that feeling? The late-summer air was thick with humidity, radios crackling on porches, the smell of fresh-cut grass and barbecue smoke in the backyard. Every evening carried a new kind of suspense—the country holding its collective breath after every pitch. “Did he hit one today?” became more than a question; it sparked a nationwide conversation.   For me, and millions of others, the summer of 1998 wasn’t just another baseball season. It was theater, a movement, a time when the game recaptured something sacred. As sportswriter Mike Lupica said so perfectly,   “No matter how old you are or how much you’ve seen, sports is still about memory and imagination. Never more than during the summer of ’98, when baseball made everyone feel like a kid again, when it felt important again.”    Just four years earlier, the 1994 players’ strike had left the sport bruised...

Beyond Facts

✨ In this episode, Beyond Facts: Reimagining School–in the Age of AI . . .   This week's podcast is a bit different; it's another example of how Artificial Intelligence (AI) can offer tools to creatively enhance your analytical presentation of information. We took this week's blog and copied it into Gemini with the question, “If a story is to work, it must, on some level, create an illusion of escape and also achieve a goal simultaneously. Does this apply to my blog post that follows?” What's created is not just an analysis of the writing, but an AI-generated discussion produced “On the Fly” - Enjoy! Did you know that the word "school" comes from the ancient Greek word scholÄ“ , which originally meant "leisure"? Not a rigid schedule or droning lectures filled with "facts," but free time for thinking and conversation. To the Greeks, learning happened best when life slowed down—when you had room to reflect, to ask questions, and to wrestle ...

Retirement Talk

In this episode, Patrick & Huck: Retirement Talk . . .   We all get caught daydreaming sometimes, don’t we? Just like Tom Sawyer or Huck Finn might’ve done, lazyin’ by the river with a fishing pole in hand and the BIG wide world spinn’ in their heads. This morning, with coffee steaming and plans bubbling, I found myself driftin’ into a chat with none other than my imaginary friend–Huck Finn himself. Patrick: “Mornin’, Huck. Say, I’m mighty curious what you’d make of this retirement business.” Huck: “Well now, sit tight, ‘cause I’ve been thinkin’ on that too. Only thirty-one days 'til you're sixty-nine — whew! You're talkin’ ‘bout quittin’, hangin’ up your spurs, Givin’ the workin’ life its final good slurs. Ain’t got no debts, no mortgage, no fuss, Just clean livin’ and freedom waitin’ on the bus. Most folks’d throw hats in the air, cheerin’ loud and proud, But you? You’re starin’ out yonder, lost in some cloud. You're dreamin’ of cyclin' and books and guitar...