Hudson County NJ Archives Obituaries.....Wright, George Grant 5 Obituaries October 20, 1935 ************************************************ Copyright. All rights reserved. http://www.usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://www.usgwarchives.net/nj/njfiles.htm ************************************************ File contributed for use in USGenWeb Archives by: Louis Paul Hennefeld hennefeld@comcast.net October 28, 2009, 5:21 pm Jersey Journal, Oct. 21, 1935 Arrangements are being completed for the funeral of Grant Wright, 70, Weehawken landscape painter, who died yesterday at North Hudson Hospital of pneumonia after a short illness. Mr. Wright was taken to the hospital Saturday night from his home at 327 Park Av., Weehawken. An illustrator for several New York magazines many years ago, Mr. Wright had a studio next to the office of the late “Diamond Jim” Brady. An exhibit of his work, the first public showing of his paintings in 25 years was held in West New York recently. Born in Decatur, Mich. He attended school there and later Henry, Ill. He came east when his proficiency in art was recognized and attended the National Academy of Design in New York. After graduation from the Academy, he began painting magazine covers, and illustrations for stories in many periodicals. He also did free-lance work for national advertising agencies. He continued his illustration work until three years ago, when he was injured in an auto accident. For the past few years he had been working with Lieut. Edward Kirk of the Weehawken Police Department, who is writing a history of Weehawken. Mr. Wright drew all the illustrations for this book and helped in gathering much of the text. For many years he wrote a column on art for the Peoria Times. He was a friend of the editor, E.F. Baldwin, and also his sister, Sidney Baldwin, novelist. Surviving are his widow, Mrs. Ethel Wright (nee Woodburn); two daughters, Mrs. Albert Hennefeld and Mrs. Florence Allen; a son George, and a brother, Charles, with whom he lived. -------------------------------------------------------------- Obituary 2 Hudson Dispatch, Union City, Oct. 21, 1935 GRANT WRIGHT, ARTIST, AT 70 Weehawken Landscape Painter Dies After Short Illness Grant Wright, 70 one of the leading landscape painters in the state, and known to practically every resident of Weehawken, died yesterday morning at the North Hudson Hospital following a short illness. Death was caused by pneumonia. He was admitted to the hospital Saturday night, being taken from his home, 327 Park Avenue, Weehawken. Wright was an illustrator for several New York magazines many years ago. He had a studio next to the office of the late “Diamond” Jim Brady, then foremost theatrical producer. He recently gave an exhibit in West New York. It was the first public showing of his paintings in 25 years, when an academy in New York City refused, for some unexplained reason, to allow his works to be shown. The academy later made frequent requests for Wright to show his pictures, but he would not. He was born in Decatur, Mich., the son of Thomas and Lucinda Wright. He attended the local schools there and later moved with his parents to Henry, Ill., where he continued his education. He showed proficiency for art in his youth and his parents encouraged him in the work. He came east and attended the National Academy of Design, New York City, from which he graduated. He painted the first cover of the old Street and Smith “Popular Magazine,” and has illustrated stories in many other periodicals.. He also did much freelance work for national advertising agencies, and until he was injured in an automobile accident three years ago, he was still doing illustration work. For many years he designed and executed all the advertisements for the Joseph Dixon Crucible Co., of Jersey City, and had also done ads for the American Tobacco Company. At Work on History For the past few years he has been working with Lieutenant Edward Kirk, of the Weehawken police department, who is writing a history of Weehawken. Wright drew all the illustrations and helped in the gathering of data. He was well liked and had a temperament as easy going as the vocation at which he worked. That is, he was never known to worry about anything. While he was a patient at the North Hudson Hospital where he was taken after being struck by an automobile and suffering from two fractured legs three years ago, he kept other patients in high spirits with his lighthearted attitude towards his injuries. He was a great admirer of Abraham Lincoln and in his library were volumes on the life of the late President. One of his reasons for his interest in Lincoln was because he resembled him in some ways. For many years he wrote a column on art for the Peoria Times. He was a friend of the editor, E.F Baldwin, and also his sister, Sidney Baldwin, novelist. Surviving are his widow, Mrs. Ethel Wright, nee Woodburn; two daughters, Mrs. Albert Henifeld [Hennefeld] and Mrs. Florence Allen; a son George, and a brother Charles, with whom he lived. Funeral will be tomorrow afternoon at 3 o’clock from the Leber Funeral Home, Boulevard and 20th street, Union City. Crematory will be in New York and New Jersey Crematory. ARTIST, OWN SKETCH [There is a sketch of Grant Wright and also a photo, with the following inscription:] Grant Wright, who died yesterday, is shown at top in sketch he made of himself several years ago, and at bottom in photo taken in his Weehawken studio. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Obituary 3 Hudson Dispatch - Union City, Oct. 22, 1935 FUNERAL TODAY OF GRANT WRIGHT There was a pall of silence over the township hall in Weehawken yesterday, caused, as everyone admitted, by the death of Grant Wright, artist, who was known by all there, and respected and loved by them. His death occurred early Sunday morning at the North Hudson Hospital following a short illness of pneumonia. Wright, who resided at 327 Park Avenue, came to Weehawken many years ago, and was a town character – the type that is a credit to a township. He was an artist of note, having illustrated for many of the leading magazines of New York City. Funeral will be this afternoon at 3 o’clock from the Leber Funeral Home, Boulevard and 20th Street, Union City. Cremation will be in New York and New Jersey Crem -------------------------------------------------------------- Obituary 4 Hudson Dispatch, Union City, Oct. 23, 1935 OFFICIALS ATTEND WRIGHT’S SERVICES Police, officials from the surrounding municipalities and many employees from the Hudson County Courthouse paid final tribute yesterday afternoon to Grant Wright, landscape painter and illustrator, who died Sunday morning at his home, 327 Park Avenue, Weehawken, following a brief illness of pneumonia. The services were at 3 o’clock in the chapel of the Leber Funeral Home, Boulevard and 70th Street, Union City. Cremation followed in the New York and New Jersey Crematory. Officiating at the services was Rev. Robert Clarke, pastor of the Church of the Transfiguration, North Bergen. Among those present were Mayor John B. Meister, of Weehawken; Boulevard Commissioner Harry Vanderbach; County Register William Sullivan; Leo P. Carroll. Township clerk of Weehawken; Police Chief August Klassen, of Weehawken; Captain Michael Lyons, of Weehawken; Patrick Dunn, of the Weehawken Boare of Education; Committeemen Henry Negel, James Healey, and Thomas A. Donlan and Patrolman Harry Kelleyman and Larry Hessner, There were more than 100 persons at the service. A delegation from the New Jersey Art Group, headed by Peter Fiordalisi, president, attended. The Art Group, to which the painter belonged, also sent a wreath, on which was inscribed a dedication to “One of our most devoted members.” Wright recently exhibited a “One Man Show” of his collected paintings at the West New York public library, under auspices of the art group. -------------------------------------------------------------- Obituary 5 Peoria Star [Illinois} October 1935 Old Friend Pays Glowing Tribute to Grant Wright At the time of Grant Wright’s death, he was engaged in illustrating a history of Weehawken, N.J., and aiding Lieut. Edw. J. Kirk of the police department in compiling the story of that historic locality. Lieut. Kirk was a close friend and has sent the Star the following heartfelt and vivid tribute: GRANT WRIGHT A Tribute to an Old Friend By Lieut. Edward J. Kirk “Granny”, Old Scout, it has happened. I can hardly believe it. Why it’s only a couple hours ago since I stood at your bedside up at North Hudson hospital with hope renewed that you were going to pull through. True, “Granny”, “Old Father Time” had you down, you were taking count of ten. But I thought you would be on your feet before the fatal count of ten. But I see that I was asking too much. You couldn’t make it. The spirit was willing but the flesh was weak. You had reached the end of that “Old Line,” down which we all must tread. You had reached your three score and ten, and to use your own words, you had to shove off. Shove off, Old Scout, and join your friends and companions who have long ago crossed the River Styx. Bon voyage to you, old friend, I hope you are happy on the other side. I miss you already, “Granny”. Not only I, but everyone that knew you misses you. The boys at Headquarters from the Chief down the line, felt down in the dumps when they heard of your passing. You were part of us, Old timer. We all liked you; we enjoyed your company, your stories, your sketches. You had such a different slant on life than most of us in these times. You were the proverbial Silver Lining to every dark cloud. Friendship Recalled I like to think of our association, Old Scout, our friendship, every moment of which I enjoyed. I like to think of the circumstances under which we first met, and over which we had a hearty laugh, and our last meeting just a few hours before you died. It’s just two weeks ago today, while making one of your sketches down in the “Shades,” that you court a cold which was the beginning of the end for you. You didn’t know it. We didn’t know it. In death, Old Scout, you have received your wish. Many a time you said to me: “Eddie, when I shove off, I want a pen of paint brush in my hand,” and sure enough, when I met you last night you were painting some kind of sketch on a cardboard box cover. I told you to cut it out, no more drawing, you had to get well, and you said, O.K., Eddie, me boy, you’re right. No more drawing. That’s the last one.” You were sitting up in bed then, You lay down, I bid you good night, you grabbed my hand in both of yours, gave a hearty shake, bidding me good night, told me to take care of myself. Little I thought at that time that it was you’re “Last Sketch.” You will be missed along the highways of this old town, Grant, with your paint box and canvas painting old scenes. Everybody knew you and would remark: “There’s old Grant Wright down the street painting a picture.” But that’s all gone now, Granny, and so are the scenes you have painted, most of them anyway, and there will be no one to come along to take your place. “Made of Great Stuff” You were made of great stuff Old Scout. When I think back a few years, back to September 26, 1931, when you came into headquarters and told me you were going someplace you had never been before, I asked you where. You said: “To church, to see a neighbor’s daughter married.” I said: “That is fine Grant, that will do you good.” A few minuets later you left headquarters, and on your way home you were run down by an auto, both legs broken, two breaks in one leg, five in the other. I hurried to the hospital expecting to find you at deaths door, only to be greeted by a wave of your hand and a hearty laugh. When I asked you what happened, you told me a “Dam old Ford” ran you down, but you were thankful it wasn’t a Packard, and said, if it had been we would have had to pick you up in pieces and put you in a basket. And that wasn’t all you said, you told me, “You lied like Hell when you said it would do me good to go to church.” You got a couple of broken legs for going there, but that was you, Old Timer, always a joke, a laugh, no mater what happened. months, trussed up, and in a plaster cast, with never a complaint; always feeling sorry for the other fellows being brought in; never a thought for yourself; always remarking; “Hell, there are others worse off than me.” But there weren’t many worse off than you after that smash up, Grant. You lost everything, business, health and were left a cripple for life. After you left the hospital you had to start to learn to walk all over again. Your brother Charley made you a wooden sandal to make up for the shortness of one of your legs, and your good sister-in-law, Charley’s wife, took you in hand and brought you back to health. Keeps Smiling About a year later you and I were to give an exhibition of Weehawken pictures, at the Second Ward Democrat Club. You insisted on going to the club rooms to look the place over, against my advice, but you had made up your mind to go and go you did, and leaving the club rooms you fell over the balustrade to the floor below, a distance of fifteen feet, and broke your leg again, and back to the hospital for nine weeks more. When I went up to see you, your only worry was that Ziegfeld wasn’t around to look you over, you might get a job in the Follies. What a man! What a character! Enough breaks to kill any man, and still you took it as a joke. Weehawken was only yours by adoption, Old Scout, but you loved the “Old Burg.” You thought it was a great spot, and how you helped me in my hobby of writing its history. Your illustrations and drawings of the old scenes in that book will be always cherished by me, as well as the many other drawings and paintings you had given to me from time to time. And you know I was thankful for them, Granny. You knew that I could never repay you, in money, for them, but in my humble capacity I tried to repay you in other ways. That’s why I am writing these lines Old Timer, so that as time goes on, and I get on in years with God’s help, I will have something stuck away in my scrap book, to bring back fond memories of my associations and friendship with you. While you loved this old town of your adoption, Old Timer, you never forgot your old home town, Peoria, Ill., you were 100 percent Peorian. To you it was the greatest spot on earth. How you used to like to sit and in retrospect, go back, away back, and dwell in the scenes of yesterday, amongst your old friends, old scenes, the “Old Homestead,” etc. Statesmen, clergymen, artists, lawyers, doctors and everybody that was anybody. You knew them all and had nothing but the highest of praise for each and every one of them. Why only a couple of weeks ago you called my attention to our lovable Hon. Alfred E. Smith, at St. Mary’s Cathedral, and speaking at the banquet of Catholic charities. You knew the spot so well, and Archbishop Spalding whom you knew in years gone by personally, Bob Ingersoll, E.F. Baldwin and a great many others prominent in the history of your home town. Why it was only last Wednesday night you showed me a letter you received from Peoria signed by a couple of dozen citizens, old timers whom you knew for fifty years or more, and what a kick you got out of that letter. You were going to write each and every one a letter, but alas, Granny, I guess they will never get that letter. You have moved on to a new address where letters will never reach you, but where fond memories of those down here who loved you, will ever haunt you. So long Granny Old Scout, good luck to you. Peace be with you forever more. 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