I met Studs in some way or another three times before his death in 2008: the first time in the elevator of the Chicago Cultural Center heading up to his 90th birthday party. He looked at me with my son in my arms, gestured to the couple he was with, and gave me a job just as the doors opened on the fourth floor : “Would you take care of my out-of-town guests?”

That was Studs, the incomparable oral historian, author, actor, writer, radio and television host still at work a month before he died at 96, October 31st, 2008, whose audiotapes of his radio shows are the third largest collection in the Library of Congress. A Pulitzer-Prize winner who had a closet filled with around 22 red and white checkered shirts he wore every day, the man who became “celebrated for telling the stories of the uncelebrated, ” a man who had no airs, who treated everyone the same—-from Presidents to bus drivers, those he encountered in the street, or in that elevator that fateful afternoon in the Chicago Cultural Center. 

Anyone who knows history knows the best way to learn about what has happened in the past is to talk to those who experienced it. There is no better resource then, if you want to learn about the Civil Rights era, the Vietnam War, what the Great Depression was like, etc. From real people who lived it. The “it” whatever it was. In the history of man, there can only be one Studs Terkel.

But like so many, Studs was my inspiration. And like Studs, I am intensely and genuinely curious about everyone I meet and I also believe that everyone has a remarkable story to tell and we should listen to and learn from. In fact, it’s  part of what makes life as a human worthwhile. Studs even once admitted he looked to others to understand himself. 

His portrait was a vision in my head. One could conjure him up with a few telltale things: his ubiquitous tape recorder and his red and white checkered shirt—- and that voice! Gravely, animated and full of character!

I saved his portrait for the last of the five in this limited series. Just like preparing for a critical exam or a career defining book or performance, one never feels prepared enough. All I know is that Studs would have been thrilled by this public art series he inspired. He might have been amused or satisfied to be among the “unsung heroes,” if only because of the irony, but also because he truly believed that we all live lives worth celebrating.