This is a story of an enduring friendship.

Herb Ryman and Joshua Meador were two gifted and energetic artists who made major contributions to Disney films and Disneyland attractions. When away from the studio, these great friends created inspired landscapes and seascapes in and around Carmel, California.

Herb and Joshua met in 1931 when the twenty-year- old Joshua Meador enrolled at the Art Institute of Chicago. Herb Ryman, a year older than Meador, was already a third year student. But something in their personal make-up made them close friends from the very start.

Just a year later in 1932, Herb graduated with honors from the Art Institute. Among Herb's artistic talents was a keen ability to visualize stories with quick drawings. He soon found work in Hollywood at MGM Studios as an illustrator and designer.

Meanwhile, back in Chicago, Joshua graduated from the Art Institute of Chicago in 1935 with honors. But, because of the Great Depression, there were no jobs. Josh did get some meager work painting murals on Chicago buildings, but that was about it.

Many years later, in 2006, Joshua Meador's wife Libby (then 90 years old), her son Philip and his wife Hildur visited us in Bodega Bay. They told us that “Josh was dared by an Art Institute friend to go out to California and submit his portfolio to 'that animator' out there.” Josh took that dare and made the drive to LA. At the time, Walt was not yet famous, but when Walt looked at Josh's portfolio, he hired Josh on the spot. Libby and Philip went on to tell us that before Joshua left the building that day, he was working on Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.

As I look back on that conversation with Libby and Philip, the surviving evidence suggests that Herb Ryman may well have been that friend who dared Josh to visit Walt Disney. By 1936, Herb was well established in the film industry and he would have known of Hollywood opportunities and leads. Although I have no documented proof, I imagine Herb would have been eager to offer Josh whatever inside information, leads and tips he could offer.

Ryman was the son of a doctor in Central Illinois and was on track to fulfill his parents dream of his following in his father's footsteps to become a physician. But while recovering from scarlet fever, Herb made a deal with his mother that he could choose a different path and study art.

At almost the same time, Joshua Meador was a high school honor student and star athlete in Columbus, Mississippi. Upon his high school graduation, he was given an appointment to the Naval Academy at Annapolis. But Josh, although he lived in the “Deep South,” had the courage to tell his father he didn't want a Navy career. He wanted to study art.

To his father's credit, he and Josh took a train trip to New York to consider the Art Students League and then on to Chicago to consider the Art Institute. They settled on Chicago. Josh soon married his high school sweetheart Libby, and the young couple moved to Chicago.

Remarkably, both Herb Ryman and Joshua Meador not only shared accomplished careers in art. As young men, they were both firm in their dreams to be artists and both had the courage to tell their parents they would rather become artists than fulfilling their parents' dreams.

In 1938, Walt Disney visited an exhibition of Herb's artwork at Los Angeles' Chouinard Art Institute. Walt immediately recognized something special in the young artist's work. Herb soon joined his old school chum Joshua Meador at Walt Disney Studios.

from "Pastoral Symphony" sequence, Fantasia 1939

The most remembered story from Herb Ryman's career resulted from a phone call from Walt Disney. In late September of 1953, Disneyland was on the cusp of moving from Walt's dream into a reality. Roy Disney, the financial wizard behind Disney Studios, had a meeting in New York with executives of the five-year-old American Broadcasting Company (ABC) in hopes of pitching and securing 17 million dollars for the construction of Disneyland.

Walt trusted Roy, but he believed bankers often needed help visualizing ideas. He wanted to give Roy a visual aid, a picture of what Walt envisioned in his own mind. Enter Herb Ryman. Walt called Herb and asked him to meet him at Disney Studios and work over the weekend.

The two men shut themselves inside a studio office for an intense weekend of work. Walt described every land, every pathway, every river, every castle, every train. Herb listened. Then he drew. Working almost without interruption, Herb transformed Walt's imagination into a magnificent bird's-eye rendering of Disneyland, unlike anything the public had ever seen.

Years later, Herb remembered Walt pacing nervously around the room before quietly asking, "Herbie... will you do it if I stay here with you?" Herb agreed. The two men worked through the weekend together.

That remarkable session eventually became known throughout Disney history simply as "The Lost Weekend,” named after a popular film of the same name. Roy carried Herb's presentation drawing to New York. The presentation succeeded. Roy and Walt got their funding and the gleaming new Disneyland opened nearly two years later.

Neither Herb nor Josh thought of themselves in terms of their film careers. As Josh often said, “First and foremost, I'm a painter, Disney is my day job.” What they truly loved was painting landscapes and seascapes, especially their favorite subject, the California Coast.

They were well thought of among a talented group of other notable California Artists. Both Herb and Josh were among the elite artists who addressed the members of the California Art Club as featured artist numerous times during the 1950's, and in 1958, Herb Ryman served as President of the California Art Club.

Another Disney artist Hank Ketcham, most famous for his cartoon strip Dennis the Menace, told Herb and Josh about Carmel, and repeatedly urged them to visit and paint there. Soon after, Herb and Josh's favorite locale was the Monterey Coast off Carmel with its exceptional scenery, changing weather effects and the majesty of Big Sur.

Here again is another example of how a gentle idea from a friend affects the lives of other people, and so the arc of history bends.

Herb thought so much of the Carmel Coast, he designed and built his dream home overlooking the Pacific. He spoke of his home as “his beloved place of dreams.” The house Herb built was like Herb was himself, simple, unassuming and filled with light. The property's current owner Donald M. Davis considers himself a steward of the property rather than its owner. He could have bulldozed the house and started over, following his own dream. But he chose to keep his Herb's vision of the property, keeping his improvements to a small number of tweaks, like modernizing the kitchen and adding a stargazing pad behind the house which doubles as an emergency helicopter pad for use in emergencies.

For Herb, the location mattered more than the house. Almost daily, he ventured forth to paint at Point Lobos, Garrapata Beach or Big Sur. He enjoyed painting under beautiful blue skies or through the mysterious fog that drifted in an out among the groves of cypress with glimpses of the blues and grays of the Pacific beyond. Herb preferred to paint in watercolor. Never striving for photo-realism, he instead wanted to capture mood and atmosphere. His paintings have the same lyrical quality which distinguished his work at Disney, revealing something of himself rather than trying to please an audience.

Josh found a place to live not far from Herb's. He could not afford to buy land and build a home, but in 1955, he rented the old firehouse in Carmel, Highlands. It was quite the place. Josh, his wife and son, and frequent guest artists from LA would live upstairs, and paint in the spacious studio below where fire trucks used to park. Phillip told us Josh and the visiting artists loved sliding down the fireman's pole.

We have been unable to find photos of the fire house or photos of the visiting artists. It seems to me to be a universal fact, that painters often don't bother with taking photos. We do know of two Disney artists who visited there often, Ralph Hulett (1915-1974) and Bennett Bradbury (1914-1991). Hulett had two sons who often played with Philip Meador while their fathers painted. Our gallery has paintings by both Bennett and Hulett.

At Dsney Studios, both Ryman and Meador strived to be part of a large studio project. But in Carmel, both artists were free to be themselves, free to follow their artistic instincts. They shared resources, shared ideas, and explored together. The fanciful world in and around Carmel challenged and delighted each artist as they sought to capture its subtleties of atmosphere, light and natural effects.

Twenty years ago, my knowledge of Herb's and Josh's friendship was just beginning to come into focus. In 2006, Joshua Meador's wife Libby and her son Philip and his wife visited Linda Sorensen and me at our Bodega Bay home. From the start, their warmth and the stories they told were the beinnings of a long and enlightening relationship.

One of those stories was how Joshua Meador came to be at Disney Studios. Phillp told us how Josh had been advised "by a classmate" to head to California to show his portfolio to “that animator out there.”

Looking back at our conversation with Philip, I suspect he cut some corners in telling this story. He did not tell us the identity of "this friend." He may have sensed that because we were hearing it for the first time, there was a limit to what we could absorb. For years, I accepted and appreciated what I did hear, but now am wondering about the details. Oh how I wish I could go back to that conversation and ask some newly formed questions. But time has rolled on, both Libby and Philip have passed on, and I'm twenty years older.

Just a few weeks ago, new information came to light. I was contacted by Donald M. Davis of Carmel who began filling in some of those gaps in the story.

Don and his friend Susan from San Francisco met us at the gallery where they admired our Meador paintings currently on display, and then we made our way to a local restaurant where Donald told stories from his perspective.

As we talked about Herb and Josh, it became quite obvious to us how these two young men who met nearly a century ago in Chicago not only had parallel careers, but parallel lives. We talked about how "that friend" who advised Josh to go to California and submit his portfolio to Walt could was likely Herb Ryman.

It only makes sense that his good friend Herb, who had come to California a few years earlier and established himself in the film industry, would correspond with Josh, telling him about the industry and leads which might exist. After all, in the mid-1930's, the Great Depression had severely limited options for young people all over the nation, and especially for artists, and one friend, especially during difficult times, would certainly help the other.

It's amazing. Often history hinges on small incidents and encounters. In small part, the artistry and lives of these two young men as Art Institute of Chicago graduates has become part of the story of Walt Disney Studios, its theme parks and today's giant Disney Corporation.

1960 brought change. Herb remained in Carmel, but Josh left, choosing to build his dream home nearly 300 miles north on the cliffs above the Pacific in Caspar, California, just north of Mendocino. Philip and Libby told Linda and me that they wanted to stay in Carmel, but it was just too expensive to build their home there.

But that's not the remarkable part. Caspar California was over 500 miles north of Disney Studios. How is it that Joshua Meador could build his home so far from Hollywood?

Here's the story. By 1960, Josh had become an indispensable artist at Disney Studios. Josh's work in animation effects was not just good, he was key to defining what Disney animation was all about. Audiences were not knowledgable of his name, but the things they loved about Disney animation was, in large part, the consistent excellence of Josh's magical transformations, glowing enchantments, swirling smoke, crashing waves, waterfalls, fire from embers and towering flames, dust and countless innovations he was bringing to Disney animation.

On March 30, 1955, Joshua Meador and his Animation Effects Team won the Oscar for Best Special Effects for 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.

Josh's reputation within the industry grew. In 1956, Walt loaned Joshua Meador's services to MGM for their production of the ground-breaking Sci-fi thriller, Forbidden Planet.

Then, Walt learned from Cecil B. DeMille that he was having difficulty with a scene in the Ten Commandments. Josh answered the call, and he created the “Pillar of Fire” scene, where a pillar of fire separates Pharaoh's Army from the Children of Israel.

The problem with Walt's artists gaining recognition had a dark side for Disney Studios. These talented artists often left the studio for more lucrative and challenging offers. Walt also knew of Josh's love of Carmel and he did not want to lose his star effects animator, either through Josh's retirement in Carmel or to him being signed by another studio. So Walt came up with an idea.

He offered Josh what was surely one of the most unusual working arrangements in Hollywood at the time. Under terms of the agreement, Josh was allowed to live hundreds of miles away from the studio where he could pursue his fine art painting career, yet he would keep his job title of Director of Animation Effects for Disney Studios at his full salary. In return, Josh agreed he would answer the phone when Walt called and and return to LA when Walt needed him for a special project.

As far as we know, he answered the call to come down to work on Fred MacMurray's “Flubber” movies and to work on Mary Poppins. Josh was on set when Dick Van Dyke danced with the penguins. Josh had to make certain Dick Van Dyke hit his marks exactly, because the finished penguins animation was already the can. After the shoot, Josh polished the live action and animation, once again making the magic happen.

This special contract between Walt Disney and Joshua Meador was a success. Looking back, it was a testament forged in thier mutual admiration and trust in each other.

In Caspar, Joshua Meador's fine art painting was equally successful. He painted throughout Mendocino County and painted as he traveled up and down the coast visiting the galleries who represented his work from Seattle south to San Diego. Our gallery has paintings from as far north as Cannon Beach, Oregon, and as far south as San Pedro Harbor. Annually, he made painting excursions to the Eastern Sierra. Libby and Philip told us Josh sold almost every painting he created, over 2,000 works. The family had relatively few paintings when Josh suddenly died of a heart attack in 1965 at the age of 54. We can't help but wonder what he would have produced had he lived a longer life.

History usually remembers great achievements. Less often does it remember the friendships that helped make those achievements possible. Herb Ryman and Joshua Meador spent thirty-four years encouraging one another, inspiring one another, and quietly helping shape some of the best-loved works in American entertainment. Yet both men always considered themselves painters first.

Their paintings of California's coast remain lasting reminders that, beyond the lights of Hollywood, they found their greatest joy standing before an easel with the Pacific Ocean stretching out before them. I've been living with the story of Joshua Meador for twenty years. It seems to be growing as I encounter new bits of his fascinating life and career.

If you have bits of history of any artist, photos, biographies, stories or anecdotes, please share them. Only when things leave the attic and become part of the public record do they become known. These days, that means this information needs to be on-line where search engines and A-I can find it. If it remains in the attic, it risks being lost forever.

At Bodega Bay Heritage Gallery, we believe a piece of art becomes far more meaningful when the story of the artist is known. When people know more about an artist, their appreciation of the art increases. That's part of the magic of an old painting, it transcends time and distance with lively vibrating color and composition. Like a poem or a piece of music, an artist of the past is able to touch our present day souls.

Bodega Bay Heritage Gallery is pleased to be, in essence, "the Joshua Meador Gallery." We feature the Joshua Meador Collection prominently displayed on the top of our website and have a large selection of his paintings on display and available at the gallery. We also post the Family Collection on our website, and if buyers wish to acquire any of those paintings, we will put you in direct contact with them.

A century ago in the 1920's, San Francisco's Ferry Building stood at the very center of California life.

Long before the Bay Bridge or the Golden Gate Bridge, SF's Ferry Building was the gateway to the West's greatest city. In the 1920's, more than 50,000 commuters poured through the Ferry Building, crossing San Francisco Bay from places as nearby as Oakland and as distant as Sacramento. Each evening those same travelers boarded ferries heading home. If you came to San Francisco during the first quarter of the twentieth century, chances are you arrived through the Ferry Building.

The California State Board of Harbor Commissioners understood that the Ferry Building was more than a transportation hub. It was "California's front door."

The Commissioners wanted visitors to leave with a lasting impression of the state's extraordinary size, beauty. Their idea was to to create an enormous relief map of California portraying the state's diverse geography and vast opportunity.

Filling most of the second floor, stretching nearly six hundred feet in length and eighteen feet in width, and weighing close to seventy tons, the map became the Ferry Building's centerpiece. Known as Paradise in Panorama, this renowned relief map was proclaimed by Scientific American in 1924 to be the largest relief map in the world.

Davis Francis Schwartz was born in 1879 in Paris -- no, not that Paris -- Davis Francis Schwartz was born in Paris, Kentucky. Proud of his Kentucky roots throughout his life, he nevertheless became one of California's devoted welcoming hosts. He studied at the Art Institute of Chicago and continued his education at schools in Dayton and Cleveland, Ohio. After a brief period as an illustrator for the Cleveland Plain Dealer, he headed west in 1903 to begin a new chapter.

California captured his imagination. Soon after arriving in Los Angeles, one of his first purchases was a coal-black pony, which he rode through Pasadena's Arroyo Seco. On New Year's Day 1904, Schwartz and three horse riding friends proudly led the Rose Parade. Around the same time, he secured work as an illustrator for the Los Angeles Times, beginning a long and varied artistic career in California.

Before leaving Kentucky, Schwartz had dreams of marrying a dark-haired Spanish-California beauty. Fate had something slightly different in mind.

He fell deeply in love with Bella Mellus, a strawberry blonde nearly ten years his junior whose family traced its California roots to early Spanish settlers. After a year-long courtship, they married at St. Vincent's Church in Los Angeles. Their marriage endured for sixty-one years, a remarkable partnership that survived both professional triumphs and profound personal tragedy. They had one son, Stanley, who tragically died in an automobile accident at the age of twenty-two.

In 1909, Schwartz's talents attracted the attention of artist and entrepreneur Gibson Catlett, who recruited him to create elaborate bird's-eye-view paintings promoting new subdivisions. The work took the young couple across North America, with assignments in Los Angeles, Portland, Calgary, Montreal, and Toronto. These years sharpened Schwartz's remarkable ability to translate landscapes into accurate, compelling aerial perspectives—a skill that would later prove invaluable.

After returning briefly to Los Angeles in 1915, the couple spent several years in Chicago before settling permanently in California in 1920. It was then that Schwartz embarked on the project that secured his place in California history.

Between 1920 and 1924, he designed and helped construct the colossal relief map commissioned by the California State Board of Harbor Commissioners. Combining artistry, engineering, surveying, and cartography, the project was unlike anything attempted before. More than simply a map, Paradise in Panorama became a three-dimensional portrait of California itself. For millions of visitors passing through the Ferry Building over the next three decades, it offered their first grand introduction to the Golden State, graphically imprinting in their minds and hearts California's magnificent Coast, its fertile valleys, the soaring mountains and the vast deserts of the Golden State.

In 1924, Bella and Davis relocated to Berkeley. Each day Davis crossed San Francisco Bay by ferry, one of the thousands of commuters whose daily routine brought them through the very building where he worked. Along with his studio in the Ferry Building, Schwartz also accepted commissions from the California State Chamber of Commerce, whose offices were just down the hall in the Ferry Building. The arrangement placed him at the center of California's business, civic, and artistic communities.

The couple later purchased a beautiful Spanish-style home in the Oakland Hills overlooking San Francisco Bay. But happiness turned to heartbreak on September 16, 1931, when their only son, Stanley, was killed in a tragic automobile accident. It pained them to remain in the family home, so reluctantly, Bella and Davis moved to San Francisco.

In 1940 they found a fresh beginning in Fairfax, Marin County, where they built their dream home among towering trees and a gently flowing creek. One particularly magnificent tree was so cherished by Schwartz that the house was literally designed around it. They affectionately named the property "The Gulch."

Over the following decades, The Gulch became a gathering place for artists, business leaders, and friends. Bella's legendary cooking along with Davis's storytelling, music, dancing, laughter, and a little good-natured tippling made the Schwartz home famous among its frequent visitors, the so-called "State Chamber Gang." The Davis' hospitality became nearly as legendary as his paintings.

Throughout his career, Schwartz painted the landscapes, coastline, and Spanish missions that define California's visual identity. His canvases are notable for their rich color, poetic atmosphere, and deep affection for the state's varied scenery. He exhibited widely and belonged to organizations including the Carmel Art Association and the Society of Western Artists.

After the opening of the Golden Gate and Bay Bridges in the early 1930's, the Ferry Building's era as California's transportation hub slowed considerably, and so too did the public prominence of Paradise in Panorama. The map was eventually dismantled, but Schwartz's extraordinary achievement deserves to be remembered. He was more than a gifted landscape painter. He was an illustrator, cartographer, designer, engineer, and one of the few artists whose work enlightened generations of San Francisco commuters, visitors and countless school kids on field trips.

Following his retirement, Bella and Davis spent time once again in Southern California before returning to Marin County. Davis Francis Schwartz passed away on New Year's Day, 1969, at the age of 89, closing the life of an artist whose career bridged fine art, public education, and California history.

Today, his paintings continue to delight collectors. Many were made into popular vintage prints for wider distribution at the time, and can often be found today. But perhaps Schwartz's greatest legacy is the one that no longer exists: a monumental map that once inspired generations of Californians and visitors alike to see the Golden State with fresh eyes. Few artists have left such an unusual -- and uniquely Californian -- mark on the history of the state.