Kewpie Doll, Born of a Dream, Celebrates Its 80th Birthday

--The year was 1913. Woodrow Wilson was president. The world stood on the brink of war. And the cherub-faced Kewpie doll was introduced to American children, instantly creating a national sensation.

The Kewpie, born of a dream by illustrator Rose O’Neill, celebrates its 80th birthday this year.

Perhaps less familiar to children today, the impish Kewpie--made by the millions in a variety of sizes, materials and novelty items--remains popular among collectors worldwide.

“The Kewpie was the craze of the time. It was as popular in that day as Barbies or Ninja Turtles are today,” said David O’Neill of Springfield, a great-nephew of the artist.

“Every home had a Kewpie,” said Maggie Fisher of Kansas City, who owns what fellow collectors say may be the largest group of Kewpie dolls and memorabilia in existence.

Dolls that sold for a few cents when first introduced can now fetch up to several thousand dollars, dealers said.

O’Neill, who died in 1944 at age 70, was an internationally famous illustrator when her drawing of a Kewpie with its trademark tuft of hair first appeared in Ladies Home Journal magazine in 1909.

The Kewpie doll hit the market four years later. Before World War I, Kewpies rolled off assembly lines in 40 German factories for sale in the United States, with O’Neill and her sister overseeing production.

Every year now, hundreds of people from across the country and several foreign countries gather in this tourist town in the Ozark Mountains to celebrate the Kewpie doll and the memory of O’Neill.

They are a devoted lot. The International Rose O’Neill Club was formed in 1967 and has about 1,500 members around the world and 20 state chapters, said Connie Harrell of Kansas City, a former international president.

The convention, called Kewpiesta, allows fans and collectors to swap Kewpie memorabilia and tales about O’Neill, whom the New York Times in 1926 deemed one of America’s most successful women.

Bonniebrook, her family’s new home near Branson, was one of four homes O’Neill maintained around the world, and became a haven from the bustle of big-city life and two failed marriages.

O’Neill said the idea for the Kewpies came to her in a dream one night at Bonniebrook. The name, she wrote in a note introducing the Kewpies in the Ladies Home Journal magazine, “means a small Cupid, just as a puppy means a small dog.”