Drawing by Derek to Lois Siegel.

That first visit was so euphoric for me that I was determined to return to Montreal later on and really talk with people and see if I could offer myself as a “slave” in this great place. In 1979, I finished R.I.T. and my student film partner, Malcolm Spaull, and I won a Student Academy Award for a stop-motion film based on Lewis Carroll’s The Walrus and the Carpenter. I thought that this would be my ticket to getting into the Film Board once again.

This time I arranged a meeting for myself in Montreal. I was greeted at the front desk of the NFB by a young smiling, bright and lanky man, who turned out to be Derek Lamb. He was an absolute gentleman and gracious host who led me around the Film Board and allowed me time to hang out with Co Hoedeman as he was finishing Sandcastle. Derek met me for lunch at the Film Board commissary and we sat with a gaggle of animators.

At one point, Derek poked me and asked me, in a whisper, if I recognized the man across from me at the table. He then introduced me to Norman McClaren. I was blown away and a bit embarrassed for not recognizing my idol. I knew McClaren by his work not his visage. McClaren looked at my work and complimented me on the variety and design and said that he was not doing much animation anymore. He looked in poor health, but I was still in awe.

Being the lovely host that Derek was, he excused us from the table and took me to a screening room where I was able to pick and choose anything I wanted to see. Later that afternoon Derek bid me farewell and that was the last I saw of him for 25 years. As a U.S. citizen, it was extremely difficult to land work at the nationally funded Canadian Film Board, so I remained a fan and not an employee.

I did join the professional animation field and have worked in the U.S., England and even Canada in the last 25 years. As a professional, I am always aware of the industry that I work in and I have gotten to realize that it is a fairly small world. Having worked with, and gotten to know, people like Peter Lord, Joan Gratz, John Lasseter, Nick Park, Henry Selick and many. many more I found that Derek’s name would crop up here and there. When I was working at Olive Jar Studios in the mid to late ‘90s I met Janet Perlman who was partners with Derek for many years. I knew that Derek was often in the Cambridge area, but I never really had the chance to follow through and see him again.

Then, two years, ago I decided to return to school in Boston and earn an MFA. I had entered a low-residency program at the Art Institute of Boston at Lesley University. They have a “mentor” program, which basically means each MFA student finds someone in their discipline that can teach them and guide them forward in their studies. Since I was a 25-year professional, there weren’t many people who would take me on as a student.

During one of my residencies in Boston I went to a party and ran into an old friend and colleague, Flip Johnson. Flip recommended that I get a hold of Derek Lamb. I was developing a story for my animated film for my studies and Flip’s recommendation was perfect. I had forgotten that Derek lived in the Boston area (Cambridge) and had taught at Harvard for many years. I also knew that he would not remember me from 25 years earlier, so I thought it would be a “long-shot.” After procuring Derek’s e-mail from a friend of Flip, I dropped Derek a note explaining who I was. I received no answer, but after being in the commercial industry for so many years I knew that meant nothing. I then managed to get Derek’s number. I left several messages but still got no response.

At one point I decided that there was not going to be a response so I opted for a different mentor. Quite literally, moments before I was about to call an alternative, my phone rings and it’s Derek. We spoke and he said he wasn’t quite sure what he could do for me but he was willing to listen. I asked if I could come see him and show him my project. I live in western Massachusetts and it was a two-hour drive to Boston. We agreed to meet on a Saturday and I mentioned that I needed to bring my 13-year-old-son, Ty, because my wife was working Saturday. That was no problem and so we renewed our acquaintance.

Derek lived in a congested but charming part of Cambridge, that was surrounded by buildings owned and operated by Harvard University. Although, Derek was not working at Harvard at the time, a semi-academic atmosphere surrounded him. When Ty and I entered Derek’s house I recognized him immediately. He looked a little older and a bit more frail but he was as warm and generous as the first time we met. He invited us in to his living room and I recalled our previous meeting 25 years earlier. He did not remember me, after all he had encounter hundreds of animators as was apparent from the pictures on his walls. I didn’t recognize many of the people but he was always surrounded by small groups of smiling people.

Derek draped his large lean frame on the couch with some sort of healthy exotic looking liquid concoction in front of him and readied himself for my story. After explaining my situation to Derek and showing him my studies for my film we settled in for a little conversation. He loved the look of my film and was concerned about how my story was going to unfold. I knew I had made the right decision coming to visit Derek. He was going to be able to give me the right kind of genuine input to my story without being overbearing.

He showed Ty and me a project that he was working on for a kid’s series called Peep and the Big Wide World that he was overseeing with Kai Pindal, the Canadian animator and creator. Peep was awarded an Emmy this past spring for “Outstanding Children’s Animated Program.” I was impressed with the simplicity and elegance of the design and story. Derek recognized and helped nurture good talent and understood the value of simple human stories that can teach. He also told us about the films he had made over the years with child authors from around the world. Derek had worked for several children’s organizations like Street Kids International and Unicef and had traveled to various parts of Asia to help teach kids about hygiene and aids prevention.

He wanted kids to make films of their own that spoke to their own piers in their own culture. He was able to use animation as a beneficial tool for society, which gave great depth to his work in this field. Derek had a love for India and had been there numerous times to work at places like the National Institute of Design, which is based in Ahmedabad. Derek had been working on a short called, The Last British Colonel in India. He laughed about the small Indian boy who approached him on a beach one day. It was extremely hot and Derek didn’t have his bathing suit. The young boy approached Derek and offered him a bathing for sale. Derek wasn’t so sure about this purchase on the beach but he acquiesced once the boy offered him a “lifetime guarantee” for the bathing suit.

We talked about the colors of India, the culture of children and adults, films we loved including the works of Len Lye, his own Every Child, and a whole range of topics that had little and everything to do with animation and life in general. Derek’s wife, Tracie, was in the next room and was anxious to free Derek so they could go to Groton for an outing. We looked at our watches and realized that we had burned through a few hours and all of us, including my son, were totally engaged. I apologized to Tracie for dominating Derek’s Saturday morning and Ty and I went on our way back to the Berkshires.

On a subsequent visit with Ty to Derek’s home, we settled on our couch as Derek took my script to read in the kitchen. He handed us a film that he had just received from an animator named Chris Landreth. Derek stepped out as we sat in awe of this amazing creation. We were speechless as Derek returned with his thoughts and my script. After our praise of this film based on the Canadian animator, Ryan Larkin, Derek gave us a little backstory. Naturally, Derek knew Ryan very well because he had been the director of the Film Board during Larkin’s tenure.