ED FRANKLIN, EDITORIAL CARTOONIST 1921-2006
For 20 years, he brought a sharp wit and a keen eye to The Globe
and Mail. His deftness and subtlety unseated Joe Clark, twitted Brian
Mulroney and even jolted Ronald Reagan into action
Val Ross -- The Globe and Mail
February 25, 2006
His pen could trace a sharp line through to the heart of Canadian public opinion. A self-described foe of
pomposity and political stupidity, he portrayed the Canadian political figures of his day in light, nervy marks
that jangled with agitated energy, yet conveyed hard, simple assessments.

Ed Franklin, editorial cartoonist for The Globe and Mail from 1968 to 1987, was "a grumpy old fart and a
wonderful guy," said
Terry Mosher, the cartoonist Aislin, yesterday. "He was probably one of the best
draftsmen in the history of Canadian cartooning."

And one of the more influential: Some Tories have credited, or blamed, Mr. Franklin for helping to topple Joe
Clark at the 1983 Progressive Conservatives leadership convention in Winnipeg. On Jan. 28, 1983, The Globe
published a Franklin cartoon depicting a confident-looking Clark waiting at an elevator, blithely unaware that
he had no pants on. The cartoon was snapped up by the anti-Clark camp at the convention and passed
around hand to hand. Many forces were ranged against the Tory leader that day, but a last straw was Mr.
Franklin's drawing of Mr. Clark (or so said irate readers who phoned to complain). Sure enough, by the end of
the day, Winnipeg delegates had voted to send Mr. Clark into political exile.

"People of that era talked a lot about Duncan Macpherson, the Toronto Star's legendary cartoonist, and
undervalued the other people," said David Spencer, professor of media studies at the University of Western
Ontario and a specialist in political cartoons. "But Franklin was very talented, clean and clear. Unlike
Macpherson, there were no secondary allusions. Franklin was to the point."

But he was an equal-opportunity offender. Not long after, he produced a cartoon showing what awaited the
new Tory leader: A smug, self-assured Brian Mulroney walks into his new job -- and into a bucket of water
waiting above a half-open door.

In 1985, one of his well-sharpened efforts in penmanship caused a course correction in U.S. policy.
Then-president Ronald Reagan was moved to action on acid rain, the most controversial issue between him
and Prime Minister Brian Mulroney, by a sarcastic cartoon suggesting that he did not view the matter as a
United States responsibility.

The drawing showed Mr. Mulroney saying: "Sir, all Canadians pray for a solution to the acid rain problem." Mr.
Reagan was shown replying: "Well, gosh, Brian, you tell them that Nancy and I join them in their prayers."
According to an aide, the cartoon was shown to Mr. Reagan when he arrived in Quebec and jolted him into
conceding that acid rain was a U.S.-Canadian problem and must be tackled jointly.

The cartoon apparently influenced Mr. Reagan to agree to name a high- powered representative to join a
Canadian negotiator in seeking a solution to the acid rain problem. The agreement broke a three-year
impasse on the issue that had become the sorest spot in U.S.-Canadian relations.

Ed Franklin never entirely lost a soft Texas accent. Born in a logging camp in Chireno, Texas, he was the only
child of a logger and a former school teacher (for years he showed people the school bell his mother had
used to summon her pupils).

His earliest jobs were driving trucks in logging camps, but his passion was for drawing. He volunteered for
duty in the Second World War, serving as a top-turret gunner on B-17 flying fortress bombers. Casualties in
his unit's bombing raids over Germany were high; technical sergeant Franklin's crew had the rare distinction
of completing a full tour of duty, or 25 missions. "He did not talk about the war until near the end of his life,"
said his son Michael. "Then it was almost all he could talk about."

Ed Franklin's parents discouraged him from his post-war plans to go to art school, and pressed him to work
with his father, which he did for four discontented years. Then he entered a contest, and his drawing of Lena
the Hyena, a character in an Al Capp comic strip, won the judges' favour and enabled him to get work as a
graphic artist at the Houston Press. From there Mr. Franklin went to the Houston Post, where he met his
future wife, Virginia, a journalist.

In 1953, the couple moved to New York City, where Mr. Franklin was at last able to enroll in art school. But
after a year of studying illustration at the Pratt Institute, his wife got pregnant, and he quit school to support
his young family.

In 1959, he and his wife and two sons (Brian was born in 1957) moved to Toronto where he found work first in
the city's engraving houses and then in advertising. His first freelance cartoons appeared in The Globe in
1966. Within 18 months, after a patch of freelancing for The Toronto Star, he was hired by The Globe.

His years at the newspaper brought him many admirers and in 1985, earned him a
National Newspaper Award.
He was driven by a love of drawing human faces rather than a compelling interest in public issues. "He was
not a political person, as such," said his son Brian.

As the artist himself explained in a poem he wrote in 1970 for The Globe Magazine: "I like to draw/and my
subject is people/more often political -- always well-known people/pompous people grown fat with
privilege/or floundering in disparity between promise and production." As Globe editorial writer Warren
Clements recalled, "Ed Franklin was an immensely talented caricaturist and cartoonist who did not suffer
fools gladly."

His friends and colleagues also remember a man fond of Cuban cigars, Remy Martin cognac, and Jerry Jeff
Walker's Up Against The Wall Redneck Mother. "He loved that song . . . sang the chorus many times, always
laughing," said Globe and Mail cartoonist
Anthony Jenkins.

At the same time, say former colleagues, Mr. Franklin could be moody and mordant. "I knew him in his
mid-50s to mid-60s," recalled Mr. Jenkins. "It seemed like he was a rebel, an iconoclast and someone who
didn't really know what he wanted to be when he grew up. He related much better to younger folk than to
peers."

And he was capable of defending a point of principle, or nursing a grudge, for years. When a senior editor
had the audacity to edit one of his cartoons to make it fit on the page -- she actually sliced through the
original with a blade -- he went on permanent byline strike. He never again signed his cartoons in his
remaining years at the paper.

After retirement in 1987, Mr. Franklin did freelance work for Saturday Night magazine and The Financial Post,
and began to research his Texas family roots. More recently, he turned his hand to abstract paintings. A few
years ago he was diagnosed with skin cancer. An operation on Dec. 15, 2005, removed his left eye and a
chunk of his face.

The loss of an eye was hard for a visual man like Ed Franklin. Yet he pressed on with plans for a book of
drawings related to his Texas childhood. In February, however, he developed breathing problems. X-rays
revealed nodules in his lungs and around his heart. "He did not want aggressive treatment or probing," said
Michael Franklin. He slipped away quietly on Tuesday afternoon.

More Reading:
ARTICLE:
The Creative Agonies of Ed Franklin -- Sping 1984

Edward Livingston Franklin was born in Chireno, Texas, on April 26, 1921. He died at Toronto General Hospital on Feb.
21, 2006, of respiratory failure and complications due to cancer. He was 84. He is survived by his sons Michael and Brian,
and his grandsons Oliver and Robbie. He also leaves his former wife, Virginia.

There will be a memorial service on Mon., Feb. 27, at 1 p.m. at Campbell House, 160 Queen St. W., Toronto, with a
reception from 1:30 until 3:30.