The Greatest Loss of All
& A New Beginning Of all the millions of dollars' worth of inventory and possessions I lost with Allied Van Lines, the most heartbreaking loss was a doll. Odessa, a character from my syndicated Kisses comic strip, was the first African American rag doll ever created for the American market. Despite the manufacturer's serious reservations, my efforts were vindicated as it had been a hit. The Chicago Tribune used the dolls as a subscription premium. I even think I caught a glimpse of an Odessa recently when Oprah's African American Doll Collection was featured on Inside Edition. When I made that wrong turn in the factory, I entered a world I could never have imagined. Cots next to sewing machines, deformed legs, skin that looked like it was spray painted to skinny little frames. Even now I can still smell the stench.
That moment changed my life. I quit licensing my products and began supporting many children's charities. That is how I first became involved with World Family, a foundation serving children and families in Cambodia and Thailand, as well as The Foster Parent Plan, Shriners Hospitals for Children, Stolen Childhoods, the first feature length film on child labor, and Free the Children—a phenomenal success with children themselves helping children.
I had designed the new Odessa with two purposes in mind. One, to license her with a company equally dedicated to ending child labor; and two, to make a doll that-like my inspirational writing- says you're perfect just the way you are. Kisses characters are drawn with their eyes covered because “All that is real is seen with the heart.”® Poor Mr. Barnett must have had a very different experience. And I can't help but wonder if Allied Van Lines, the global moving leader in a 50 billion dollar business that just went public with SIRVA in 2003, has any idea how just one franchise, and one individual like Mr. Barnett, can devalue their entire company. Just like a pin hole in a balloon. I am writing to them in the hope they'll live up to their promises in their annual report and help me. In truth, it would help Allied, and all who trust their name, as I did, too. I'm working to continue my partnerships with Free the Children and Stolen Childhoods – wouldn't it be great if Allied wanted to join the side of the angels and work with us, too?
Some Giraffes are human. Find out more about the Giraffe Heroes Project at Thank you for helping make a difference in the world. |
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There are very few artists who get to preside over their own estate sales. In fact, my estate sale has been a rolling affair, taking place all over the country for the last decade. I only got in on the action recently. It's understandable to be behind the times when you're dead, but I'm getting ahead of myself. The good news is I may be the first and only dead artist to sign my work now so you don't have to wait for it to go up in value. "Despite being presumed dead, Vivian Greene is still hard at work, doing what she does best, making the world a better place one work of art at a time"-- Melinda Young The Eye of the Storm
My career as a late artist began innocently enough some years ago shortly after Hurricane Andrew. Vivian the person and Vivian Greene, Inc., both survived the storm. The company where I stored my business's archives, Goldcoast Graphics, did not. The work of 18 years of my life—the plates and negatives for more than 500 designs—was gone with the wind. Fortunately, we still had our current inventory and work in progress safely stored in the undamaged part of my 15,000 square foot warehouse. And we were offered a tremendous opportunity by Hawaii publisher Island Heritage to emerge from the rubble of Andrew stronger than ever. Island Heritage was like a twin of my company, except they only sold in Hawaii. Working together, I could expand their distribution on the mainland and they could print my products in their Hong Kong and Nevada facilities. It would be a nice marriage—of skills, expertise, and connections. I would have to relocate to Hawaii and ship my inventory, but the potential for success far outweighed any inconvenience. I needed to rent out my house and ship my life to the other side of the country, and here was someone who could do both. We agreed to both deals. However, he wanted to move into my house sooner than I was ready to leave. His family of five, like so many in post-Andrew Miami, was crammed into one hotel room.
Paradise Lost
I arrived in Hawaii on schedule. My stuff never did. Nothing, nada, not one thing. Nothing but destruction was left For the first time in 18 years, I had to let go of my employees. These weren't just my workers—they were my friends, people who had built Kisses from the ground up into a multi-million dollar company and made the Kisses brand a household name. Death Becomes Her? Yes, we sued. Yes, we won. No, we still haven't collected on the judgment. While it's true that justice is only as good as you can afford, perhaps it's also because while I was passing through the court system, parts of the federal government decided I had passed from this world. (I know the court system can be slow, but I hoped to live long enough to see the end of this case.) Maybe they thought I died because Kisses quit appearing. Or maybe it was because I was hit by other drivers in three different car accidents, which GEICO generously reported as six. (They even declared me at fault for one of them, even though I was a passenger.) Or perhaps it was because the debts I incurred when my ID was stolen could kill anyone. To replace my stolen ID I was required to get a physical social security card at the office in Honolulu. The supervisor told me I was dead. Later I was also told that I had stolen my own car. No one explained how a dead person could do that. Then my car in Miami got a ticket, which was a neat trick as I was in Hawaii and the car was in storage. Maybe it was the Ghost of Success Past at the wheel. |
