During his talk at BLAG Meet: Inside Issue 03, Bob Dewhurst (@nevadahandpainted) mentioned a book, Snapper, published in 2001. Compiled by John J. Hodgins, it is "a collection of stories of sign painters" with anecdotes and funny tales of life on the road, and on the brush, from just over a dozen contributors.

The book was self-published, and the only copy that Bob knows of is owned by Steve Vigeant (@berkeleysigns), who is also one of the contributors. I asked if it would be OK to reproduce some of the stories for BLAG readers, and they kindly sent me a photocopy of the book to start transcribing.

Here's the first one I've worked on, with Keith Knecht sharing some of his experiences in a series of phone calls with John J. Hodgins. Sadly, the other book mentioned at the end, Memoirs of Keith Knecht, didn't materialise, although he did have his moment in the limelight as one of the stars of Sign Painters.

In a previous article, 'snappers' were defined as "the old-timers that used to travel from town to town, snapping a line and painting a sign to earn their keep". In a recent Instagram post, Elaine Wallis pointed out that the term has a variety of meanings, including the one that she learned, which is "a fast sign painter who had a quick casual letterstyle that he or she used for churning out showcards and paper window posters".

Snapper: Keith Knecht

By John J. Hodgins

Small section from a book with the title, 'Keith Knecht' and a charicature of a man in glasses and a hat. The main copy is then the opening paragraph of the transcription below.
Keith Knecht in Snapper: A Collection of Stories of Sign Painters.

The first time Keith Knecht called me was after SignCraft Magazine had published a little note saying that I was trying to collect a book of snapper stories. When I answered the phone a voice said, "Hey, I'm an old snapper". I had met Keith back at a couple of Letterhead meets but had not seen him in years.

In the conversation Keith said, "Just set me down anywhere in the United States with my sign kit and I can make a living. I may have to sleep in the car the first night, but the next night I will have a room and be eating a good restaurant meal."

Then I started calling Keith and found a wealth of good stories. He usually worked around Toledo from about May to October. Then he would hit the road. He traveled all over the south: Florida, Atlanta.

I asked how he proceeded when he hit a town.

"Well, if it was a big town I would try to find a shop that could use a hand for a few days. In a big town there are too many hassles with sign permits, maybe unions. Not that I am against unions. I got my journeyman's card back in the 60s.

"If it was a small town I would walk down the Main St. and look for a sign that needed a repaint. I would do that first job for almost anything just to get started. I couldn't really lose much, all it cost me was the paint. I always made sure that I was working on it between eleven and one o'clock. That's when the businessmen are going to the bank, or out for lunch. A working sign painter would always attract attention. Pretty soon someone would say, 'Hey stop down at the hardware store when you are done. I need a sign done'. Once I got going, I might stay in a town for two or three days."

"Did you stay in a motel?", I asked.

"No, most small towns in those days had a hotel. You could get a nice room for a dollar or dollar fifty a night. Three bucks would get a really deluxe place."

I asked if he ever did a dynamite job.

"Oh yeah, I used a quick dry gold size tinted with a little enamel so I could see it. I used to get this silver powder from a place in Toronto. Got a big two pound (1 kg) bag. I would make a bag like a pounce bag and dust it on. You could really burnish it to a nice shine. Then usually a red outline. We used a lot of Japan back then.

"I liked to do windows on the inside if I could. Sometimes there would be a restaurant with a steam table in the window, or a dry cleaners with the press in the front window. Then I would have to do them on the outside. You know, the dry cleaners used to press pants right on the spot. They had this little cubbyhole you could duck into, hand your pants out. They would press them and you would put them back on."

I told Keith about a woman sign painter that hit our town in the 60s. She would do repaints up on a step ladder wearing short shorts and a halter top. I saw here around for a couple of weeks.

This reminded him of another story of when he was working in a shop in Naples, Florida. "We were only about maybe a half mile from where all the marinas were. A fellow who had a business across the street came in and said, 'There's a naked woman down at the boatyard lettering a boat. You should really come down and look.' Well I thought probably she had a string bikini on, but sure enough she was stone naked."

"We went down and sure enough this woman did not have a stitch of clothes on. She was wearing sandals and she had a towel draped over a box that she was sitting on. She had her boyfriend or husband or whatever there. Probably her boyfriend. He was bigger than John Wayne and looked like a sore loser.

"I went over and talked to her. She had a book of pictures there of jobs that she had done. Mostly boats and trucks, and in every one of them she was posing nude. She really knew the principles of advertising: AIDA. You have to remember those four letters and get them in the right order. First you get their attention. Then you create interest. Then you turn the interest to desire. Then turn the desire into action.

"She was a pretty decent sign painter. You know the general public thinks that anyone who can make a letter is a good sign painter. She wasn't great, but a decent letterer. She did have a great body too!"

I told him that if I tried that they would call the cops! In my last phone call to Keith I asked him to make notes and I would call him later. In a week or so he called me.

"I got to writing and before you know it I had eight pages. I'm going to write my own book!" I wished him luck and told him that I would mention for people to watch for his book. He certainly has enough material.

In his last call he also mentioned that he had the second best job in the world for 25 years. I asked him who had the best one.

"Charles Couralt", he said. "He had an expense account and they gave him a new Winnebago to travel in."

He told me that in his travels he also used to hustle a little pool. Many bars in small towns at that time had a pool table. All pool players used to have nicknames. His was 'The Cinncinnati Kid'.

"I was only about a Class C player, but good enough to hustle some money from some of the locals that thought they were good."

Watch for the Keith's book, Memoirs of Keith Knecht.

Thank you to Bob Dewhurst and Steve Vigeant for sharing this publication; I plan to publish more of its snapper stories in the coming months.

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