Calligrapher, 92, Still Perfecting His Penmanship

Phil Donahue once dubbed him the oldest working calligrapher in the United States. The talk-show host invited Ernest H. Charrow, then a spry 90, to his show in 1994, and the Oxnard resident charmed him with his talent, wit and, well, his chutzpah.

The reason he may be the oldest working calligrapher in the U.S.?

“After 65 years, people’s hands start to shake,” explains Charrow, 92--a small, tidy man in a red-checked shirt and beige loafers. “But not me. I don’t even shake a highball; I drink it straight!”

Charrow does indeed have a smooth hand. He has been penning beautiful letters since his childhood in Brooklyn. “I’m self-taught,” he says.

A photograph of Greta Garbo inspired him to take pencil to paper and render what he saw. “And it wasn’t so bad,” he says, so he continued to teach himself about the properties of light and shade.

He saw that he had a steady hand and a good memory for forms that lent themselves to calligraphy, which in itself has roots in Charrow’s own Jewish tradition. A devotion was born for this craft, which he would practice through the decades.

But like most artisans, he had his day job, of course. He sold specialized surgical instruments at first, a profession that ultimately led him to migrate to Los Angeles in 1941, almost a full decade before his beloved neighborhood Dodgers. It was here, with wife Bertha, that he started in the printing business, and knew some of the stars of the day in old Hollywood. Friday nights, he remembers, were boxing nights, and the whole gang would end up at the Brown Derby for cocktails afterward.

He did well for himself and Bertie--the couple is still married after 62 years. He retired in 1974, watched his three grandchildren grow up, and moved to Oxnard 12 years ago. But he still keeps his hand in calligraphy and he’s always got a project or two to stay on top of.

With Abraham Lincoln’s birthday upon us, for example, Charrow has done a beautiful rendition of the Gettysburg Address. He’s lettered the names of all 50 states and their capitals on one sheet, as well as the entire roster of U.S. presidents and their terms. Handy lists for schoolchildren, he says. And he’s quick, too. He can work up a monogram in a few minutes.

How’s he keep steady after all these years? “I work two to three hours a day on this,” he says, holding up an elegant monogram he’s just created. “And I have a couple of shots of vodka every day.” Then he winks, and he’s off again, hunched over his table.