From the Anthology
Sustaining Service: 2025 Veterans' Anthology
After a few years back in Cleveland and eventually getting a job as an artist, I am working at a screen-printing shop and freelancing, doing artwork for an offset printer named Bob Furnace. My bestie was also named Charles; he called himself Charles Lee. One of the writers was George Henderson; he was an ex-con, ex-heroin addict and prolific writer. I served as the art director for the new fledgling magazine, The Nite Owl, which was inspired by the vision of the creator—a fellow named Charles Walls.
Now, not much is known about Charles. He was Bob’s friend and in hindsight he was an enigma. At the shop, he seemed reserved, and we all saw him as a positive person that could get results. It’s weird how he came to be in the picture. We all came together around the same time. There are a rhyme and a reason for everything you think and do. What really seemed to matter was that he was bringing in the sales. Now, Charles was damn good on the surface, street smart and a natural hustler. At least that was the perception.
Cleveland at this time was in a developing state: the Carl Stokes era. The print shop was on St. Clair and 125thand Shaw divide, across from the Black furniture store (Crosby Furniture—it wasn’t even bothered during the riots in ’66). Everyone could see that if our magazine took off it could be a nice little gold mine for the taking. All we had to do was to do it. Our main competition was The Call & Post. Everything was covered by the paper, but we were putting our own spin on everything. We were working on this first edition, and the money and ads were coming in; we were progressing. We got the first issue printed and delivered, and it looked good. The customers were happy.
Cleveland at this time was a real hustling town. People worked at the steel mills, auto plants, post office, and RTA. The black community was poised for wealth. There were lots of black businesses developing. Cleveland was coming out of the Hough and Glenville riots plus a lot of discontentment with the police department. Yet, the city was looking up with the election of Stokes. It was home to a lot of smart black people.
We were all a reflection of the city and its energy. Everyone was responding to the future differently. The area that Charles was covering in the magazine was Hough, which didn’t attract people from elsewhere because Hough had a reputation for violence. St. Clair, Superior, and Euclid were areas more likely to draw people to live, socialize, and shop. E.105th from Wade Park to St. Clair was known as the Gold Coast, where you could engage in any activity your heart desired. Kinsman and Lee- Harvard/Miles area was pretty much considered middle class with upscale businesses, and Cedar and Central was a Hustler’s Paradise.
Charles had a car, so he didn’t have a problem getting around. He had the path laid out to achieve his goal of making this magazine a success. We started on the second edition with enthusiasm. I’m designing, George is writing, Charles Lee is helping with the printing, and Bob is running the shop. With all that’s going on, we’re feeling good.
In my four years in the AirForce, I was able to observe and have my own reactions to events going on around me. I never saw a person not able to carry out their assignment, but I didn’t judge. As we’re gearing up for the task at hand, Charles seems a little occupied but ready. As he was going out, he was full of enthusiasm. Over the course of a couple days, he was going and coming without a lot to say and no orders or very few. But then we talked, and he seemed to put the distractions behind him.
The sales started to fall, and his attitude became a little withdrawn. As we progressed, we began to see he was coming unglued. This was to me a case of someone not being able to stand the thought of succeeding. Whatever was going on was taking place rapidly. Here was someone on the verge of success, and plainly he was having a meltdown of a monumental scale.
I’d never seen people poised for success, but I’d seen people fail, even from the possibilities of success. What was I supposed to gather from this fiasco of human endeavors? My experience in collaborating with people fell into the art category. I had no sales experience. I felt like someoneon the verge of bowling 300, and my last ball was a gutter ball.
When we started this venture, we had no way of knowing how things would turn out. Rather than to be discouraged, I gathered from this that faith over fear would win. Because he couldn’t or wouldn’t continue, we were left at the crossroads with nothing to show for our efforts. Everyone could take away what was appropriate. For me, I uncovered the attitude of faith over fear. Charles Lee was back to drawing his cartoons; that was his passion. George and I worked out a napkin design for Don King, the future boxing promoter and nightclub owner on E. 55th and Central. What could have been a monumental success was now an afterthought. And just like that we went from publishing to hustling whatever would work for us as creative people.
As the saying goes, don’t no one monkey stop the show. No matter what happens, I know that I am totally responsible for me, and if I have a game plan, the opportunities will come. We rise like the Phoenix. So onward and upward to the next venture. God be with us!
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Charles Yeager served in the US Air Force for four years as an air policeman before being honorably discharged and embarking on a 25-year career as a graphic artist and entrepreneur.
