I hired Chuck as a baby art director at McCann-Erickson in the early 70s. We worked in a lot of projects through work and outside the job. Sad loss but a lot of fun memories. Some Debbie never forgave me.

I have many wonderful memories of Chuck. I was fortunate years ago for Chuck to have followed my family to Georgia to live. One day about 13 years ago not long after my father passed away Chuck called me. He told me my dad had wanted a picture of some Indian corn he had painted. He told me he knew I would have wanted it since my dad did. That painting still hangs in my house. I don't know if he ever realized what he gave me. I am sure not everyone would want a painting of Indian corn but to me it is priceless. Not only do I have a peace of Chuck but I also have a peace of my dad his Uncle Jerry. I will miss you Chuck and I will always love you. Rest in peace 

My Father Mother and I were driving somewhere. I don't remember where. Suddenly Dad turned around and drove back home. There was Chuck. Driving the other car up and down the driveway. Dad had left those keys.

Seeing Dad he left the car running to the house laughing and locked the front door in Dad's face. Dad calmly unlocked the door. By then Chuck had run to the back door still laughing. He ran across the yard , jumped the fence and kept running.

I know eventually he came home but I only remember him running and that laugh of his. 

I believe Dad thought it was funny too.  Chuck kept life fun and exciting. 

So sad to get a call tonight from a long time mutual friend about Chuck. I had mixed feelings about posting a public tribute on Facebook, but thankful for this opportunity. Like the message left by Tom Sapp, Chuck in turn, was a mentor, got me my first job in Atlanta at WestWayne in 1996 from a mere phone call a very quick 5 minute meeting. I owe a lot to Chuck and sad that I have been so disconnected these last few years. He supervised my first photoshoot in New York City. One night at a bar, a complete stranger seated next to us, asked us if we liked blues. He then proceeded to give both of us a ride in his limo on his way home, to a unknown part of town, dropped us off alone at a small blues club, then said goodnight. Neither Chuck or myself knew where we were, but the New York native stranger just wanted to share a great, non touristy, blues club with us random, out-of-towners. Whoever was on stage that night was amazing and was a memorable experience I had with Chuck. This story may not be so much about Chuck himself and not my only time I ever spent with him. Later, I even moved to New York and thought of this time with Chuck fondly many times, since New Yorkers will always surprise you with kindness when you least expect it.