In the 6-15-2000 edition of "The Virginian-Pilot" newspaper from Norfolk, Virginia, there appeared this article under the bylyine of Earl Swift.Accompanying were several illustrations by the subject of the article. "Local Artist's Struggle Is Over-Eugene S. Abbott."Tribute
"The artist died as he lived:alone, kinless, underappreciated. He'd never married.He'd fathered no children.He'd had few buddies at work, few close neighbors, few visitors in his last days. The newspaper distilled his existence to three sentences.'Eugene S. Abbott, 83, died June 1, 2000, in Norfolk General Hospital,' the obituary read.'He resided 18 years at 511 Boissevain Ave. and recently at Harbor Point Medical Center.His body was donated to medical science.' With that simple send-off Eugene Abbott's story might have ended, as many quiet lives do. Except that Abbott nursed an obsession for more than 50 years.He was bent on becoming a great novelist, and devoted his entire adult life, his every spare moment, to writing and rewriting a handful of autobiographical stories of love, lust and betrayal. And among the carefully typewritten pages of his prosehe slipped a series of remarkable illustrations -- crude, bright, blocky things rendered in model airplane paints and crayon, colored pencil and correction fluid. His books were never published.But a few years ago, his paintings began to snare the admiration and imagination of other local artists. We publish a few of them here as a tribute to a man who never surrendered his dream -- and with the eneasy suspicion that for years, we in Hampton Roads had, living among us, an artist of primitive genius."
*The short tribute is set against a 3/4 page color illustration.I offer this submission in the hope that someone out there recognizes this name and the article will make him a little more real than dry words on a page ever can.