An Extraordinary Life: Former New Lenox man, cartoonist realized dream of national syndication

‘He was lucky that he got to pursue his passion. He saw his lifelong dream come true’

Tom McLaren has wonderful memories of growing up in a single-story house near Hickory Creek in New Lenox, not too far from the train station.

And one of Tom’s favorite places was the attic, where his father, Fred McClaren, a commercial and freelance artist, worked every night after supper.

One reached this attic by passing through a staircase that was concealed by a door. The room, with its slanted roof, was filled with a variety of print memorabilia: books, clippings, magazines, newspapers. It was filled with sketches, sculptures, paintings, art supplies and cigarette smoke.

Hardcover books filled a coffee table and bookcase. A radio broadcast oldies or a Cubs game. Or a hi-fi record cabinet played jazz or the songs of Frank Sinatra. On summer nights when the window was open, Tom might hear the rumbling of a passing train or the hooting of an owl.

It was a world of X-Acto knives, Wite-Out and cartoons taped on the wall to dry, and Tom often nodded off to sleep in a chair in that attic, his father’s sanctuary.

“When I look back, the New Lenox years were the happiest of his life,” Tom said. “It was the white picket fence days of our family.”

This attic in New Lenox also was the space where Fred’s lifelong dream of becoming a nationally syndicated cartoonist came true.

Born in 1930, Fred grew up in Springfield as part of a family that produced many doctors and lawyers; Fred’s own father, a lawyer, expected Fred to “follow in his footstpes,” Tom said

But Fred “went on his own path,” a creative one that included a love for radio, comics, pulp magazines and Big Little Books. Fred’s favorites included “The Spirit” by Will Eisner, “Terry and the Pirates,” “Jack Armstrong,” “Captain Midnight,” “The Green Hornet” and “The Lone Ranger.”

“They were wonderful characters for a boy to latch onto,” Tom said. “As a little boy, he was always sketching.”

Even as an adult, if Fred wanted to tell a story as part of a conversation, he’d pull out of sheet of paper and sketch as he talked, Tom said.

“It was his way of communicating with people,” Tom said. “He would draw something while he was talking and then show it to them.”

Fred’s mother was a freelance writer with more than 800 stories to her credit, so that may have influenced Fred’s creativity, too, Tom said. The family also liked to read.

“They all had an appreciation and love for good literature,” Tom said. “The house was always filled with books.”

After high school graduation, Fred married Betty Lou Spring, served in the Korean War and then moved to Chicago to study at the American Academy of Art for three years.

Fred worked in many types of media: pen and ink, charcoals, oils, pastels and watercolors. He created fine art, collected art, did freelance artwork and found steady employment as a commercial artist, first for the Illinois Institute of Technology and later for RR Donnelley & Sons, Tom said.

Although Fred loved making art, he didn’t like the business side of commercial art – dealing with employers, clients and having to attend business parties – and always hoped to make a living with his art without having to work for a corporation, Tom said.

“He preferred being in his own environment,” Tom said. “And he was very protective of his environment.”

But at the time, Fred was a young family man. Tom said his brother, also named Fred, was born in 1956; Tom came along a few years later.

“He had to make money,” Tom said. “He had to pay the bills. My mom was a homemaker; she stayed home and took care of the family. My dad commuted back and forth to the city.”

On the advertising side of the spectrum, Fred worked in graphic design. He wrote advertising copy and drew illustrations. On the freelance side, Fred wrote and illustrated for magazines, books and Sunday supplements for newspapers, Tom said. Fred also created Thornsby, a single-panel cartoon about a man living in the 1970s while longing for the 1940s.

The National Newspaper Syndicate in Chicago contracted Thornsby on Aug. 21, 1972, and newspapers started to pick up the single-panel cartoon on April 16, 1973, according to the book Tom published in 2020: “Thornsby by Fred McLaren: The Complete Comic Collection.”

Cities that carried Thornsby included St. Louis, Detroit, Chicago, Baltimore, Philadelphia and Boston, with Thornsby being most popular in the Midwest, Tom said.

By now, Fred felt hopeful he could leave the corporate world behind him. He moved his family to Canada, where he continued creating and submitting Thornsby – 768 total single-panel cartoons by the time Thornsby ended on Sept. 27, 1975, the book said.

Unfortunately for Fred, his freelance contacts were in the U.S., not Canada, so he struggled to establish his career there, Tom said. Eventually, Fred, Betty Lou and Tom moved to Michigan (Tom’s older brother, Fred, was in college, Tom said) where Fred immediately landed a commercial artist position at a corporation, Tom said.

But during the Thornsby years, Fred loved receiving fan mail from people who enjoyed his work and Fred often sent them an original comic in return, his way of appreciating their appreciation, Tom said.

Two years after moving to Michigan, Fred and Betty divorced. In the early 80s, Fred said goodbye to the coporate art work for good. Fred also developed and pitched other ideas for comic strips – and he tried to revive Thornsby, too – but none of those projects came to fruition, Tom said.

In fat, one of Tom’s goals in assembling and publishing “Thornsby by Fred McLaren: The Complete Comic Collection” was to give his father’s work the longevity it deserved and put the work in a form that people can discover and enjoy for decades to come.

One reason why Fred stopped working as a commercial artist was the advent of technology, Tom said. Fred never embraced technology, and work for artists who created by hand was drying up, he added.

“He never had a computer in his apartment,” Tom said. “He never had a cellphone. I trained him on email, and he grudgingly did it a couple of times. But he did find AbeBooks and so he would order some books through the internet.”

Other than his studio, Fred was most content while inside a Dunkin’ Donuts with a cup of coffee, a doughnut and a book, Tom said.

“I can see him sitting there, a happy, happy man,” Tom said.

Fred moved back to New Lenox for a short time. But he found living alone in a small town “too quiet,” Tom said. Fred wound up near Oak Park where he could more easily interact with people, Tom said.

By now, Fred was making art only for himself and he took enormous satisfaction in bringing his visions to life and not the visions of others, Tom said.

Even in his later years, before Fred’s death in 2015, when he battled health issues and arthritis in his hands, Fred still sketched, Tom said.

Other than Thornsby, Tom feels Fred’s legacy, a Tom hopes to preserve, is that Fred attained what few people ever attain.

“He was lucky that he got to pursue his passion,” Tom aid. “He saw his lifelong dream come true.”

To feature someone in “An Extraordinary Life,” contact Denise M. Baran-Unland at 815-280-4122 or dunland@shawmedia.com.

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