Eddie Morin interview by Agustin McCord
East Los Angeles - Raul Morin Memorial Square, Indiana Street and Brooklyn Avenue.
February 7, 2026
EM: I’d like to start with my dad. He was a very unusual person and he was one of a kind. He got into a situation where his father died at an early age. My dad was three years old so when his dad died his mother re-married and his step father and his mother had two more children. His mother had him and his older brother named Eddie and in the new family my dad didn’t fit in quite well because his step father was very gruff. My uncles told me he was a “heavy.” His brother Eddie was sent to live with some uncles to ease the situation, leaving my dad with his two younger sisters.
My dad felt unwelcome, so he stayed out of sight of his step father as much as possible. He grew up on the streets. His mother would leave a plate of food on the stove for him. This was in Texas. He lived out in the country and picked cotton when he was a kid. He grew up kind of rough, but he was very individual in the sense that he was talented. He would do really meticulous drawings and he liked knowledge. He was good in school, so my grandmother, as a stopgap situation to ease the pain and everything, apprenticed him to a sign painter in town. He learned the craft and was pretty good at it.
The youngest of his three sisters was dying of leukemia. She was fading away and the country was hit with the Great Depression. Franklin Roosevelt came out with the CCC camps, and my dad went away to live in Arizona, clearing fire trails in the mountains and building roads and I don't know what else. Meanwhile his older brother was with his uncles, who were tailors. They taught him tailoring and it was there that he met a mercer, someone who sells cloth. He would fill my uncle with ideas of glory and fame, saying “Young man, I advise you to go west. Go to California.” So my Uncle Eddie went to California and he worked part time for a tailor there. He moved to Santa Barbara and met a woman, was very happy and got married. He bought a house in Santa Barbara and it was two thousand dollars. This was back in 1927.
My dad was coming out of the CCC camps and he didn't want to go home, watching his little sister die and the home life not being very friendly towards him anyway. So he decided to seek out his brother Eddie in Santa Barbara. He traveled west hitchhiking and he’d pick up work where he could. He worked part time as a shoe salesman. He was real good at drawing, he worked at carnivals, drawing caricatures of people and getting paid. Whatever it took, that’s what he did. He hitchhiked and worked his way west and he lived with my Uncle Eddie in Santa Barbara for a year or two.. Then he moved south to Los Angeles and he started his own sign shop.
He moved a couple of times. At first he didn’t know how to drive so a friend showed him. He told me stories when he didn’t have a shop truck, he’d have a ladder and he and an assistant would get on a streetcar. He’d hand one end to his assistant and then he’d go inside and would lift up the ladder and they’d go that way to a jobsite on the streetcar with a ladder. He told me another time he was painting a sign and the background was black and he ran out of paint. But he needed the money, he wanted to finish the job and collect, so he drove around looking for a store. It was hopeless, then he came across a tire shop. He looked around and he found a bucket of black tire paint, they used to paint the tires black. So he got the bucket and he finished the job with that black paint. He goes, “Years later that was the only part that was still visible!”
AM: Where was his sign shop?
EM: He started out in south LA, the Coliseum, that area. (The street) was Santa Barbara then, I believe it’s Martin Luther King now. Then he opened a shop on Olvera Street. They were all Latino-based merchants and he got along well there. He did a lot of jobs. He’d take me with him on the jobs and I was impressed. I’d see him do gold leaf jobs and others.. I remember he did a job once for a Chinese restaurant, and he told me, “Their lettering they put the emphasis on like speaking, they put power into the brush swirls. It looks real brushy.” So my dad would do stuff like that and get complimented, “hey nice job” even though he didn’t know what he was writing but he was copying what they wrote. He did the same thing for some Jewish signs, they have their alphabet too. He was working in four languages.
AM: Where were you all living at that time as a young family?
EM: I was born in the Ramona Garden housing projects and we lived there for a while. My dad got active. He was a veteran, he got affected by WWII, he saw action and he saw a lot of discrimination when he came back and he said “This isn’t right. We put our life on the line for the country and we’re treated too shabbily.” He went to buy a house when he saved up some money; he and my mom were trying to buy a house in Alhambra and they were turned away because they were Mexican. The realtor told my folks “We can fudge on this. If you’re willing to say you’re Spanish I might be able to get you in.” But my folks wouldn’t have no part of it, they said “If that’s what it takes we don’t want it.”
He wrote a letter to the LA Times but the Times was just as racist, they says “We found a place where you can live” and it was in South LA in a rundown area, Watts, you know, and he said “Some help!” He wanted a nice neighborhood, a nice house and that was denied him. He became active at community events and then he started following politics backing up the people that he liked.
AM: Would you say that those values that he had were instilled in you at home?
EM: To be honest I didn’t understand. It seemed like he spent a lot of time - an excessive amount of time - following this pattern. I didn’t like it, I was jealous, I wanted to see more of my dad. I didn’t understand at the time - now I do.
AM: He was fighting for a greater cause.
EM: Yeah. When I was a kid I’d see him do some work that’s gone out of vogue. Have you ever heard of a mud job? Okay, they had compressors and spray guns, they would get a metal sign blank, spray it white, and then they would letter (actually with a sho card brush) this material. It was grey, a special mud. They would letter the signs, let it dry, then they would come back and spray over it with black. And (sometimes) they’d put an outline. After it dried good and hard in the hot sun for a day or two they’d get a hose and they’d spray it and the mud didn’t really adhere. It would crumble off and reveal a white letter or a white outline that was really clear, no streaks or brush strokes. It looked real nice. Very good contrast.
AM: I wonder what kind of mud that was.
EM: I don’t know but it was grey, and it was very fine. Another one was shmaltz - they’d get paint and add linseed oil to it, and they’d sprinkle this crushed material, glass or grain or something like that. It reminded me of roofing material, you know how it sheds that powder? Anyway they would put it on there and it would leave an interesting background. Sometimes they’d do a mud job, sometimes they’d mask off the letter or the part that they wanted nice and legible and that would give the background a matte finish.
AM: Were you helping on these sorts of jobs?
EM: Mostly observing. He’d have me do simple stuff like put out dropcloths or snap lines, stuff like that. I was about twelve years old when I picked up a sho card brush and my dad started showing me the basic strokes. I liked it and kept going at it. There’d be a lot of jobs - every sign painter comes across this - where somebody wants a freebie. There’s no profit in it, it was just doing a favor… He’d give me that kind of work. He’d put the layout on and I would paint it. At one point on one of these jobs it was not a sho card brush, it was a quill with some enamel, and I just got that confidence. I started making the letters pretty good. I had adapted to it, I got better used to it so from there I took off and started learning more about the sign trade.
AM: How many employees were there at the shop on Olvera street?
EM: My dad was always a small operation, mostly a one-man operation. He’d take on occasional help - he’d meet guys who needed work and they had things that could help him. He had guys who were good at installation and they’d hang the signs for him. He had guys that were painters; when jobs required a lot of paint and maintenance he’d hire these guys. There were drifters, other sign painters that needed work, and if he was flooded with work he’d share it with them but basically it was a one-man operation. I remember he got this one guy Mario Reda. This guy was from Mexico City and he was an artist and he was very good. He did some sign graphics, dimensional letter effects where the perspective is going into the background. Later Mario Reda taught the class at Trade Tech, pictorial art and design. He was a master. When he was down on his luck my dad gave him work and they helped each other out. He went on to greater things because he was a great artist.
AM: You mentioned you often wonder how things might have turned out different if your dad had stuck to sign painting instead of pursuing his path in activism.
EM: The trade took a weird turn, especially with the advent of the computer. There’s guys that don’t know nothing about the sign trade but they get a computer and go “Hey I’m a sign guy!” I tell you, I was in Loma Linda and I stopped to have lunch and I saw some guy and on his belt he had a squirt bottle and a brayer and I knew what that was about. So I said “Hey, putting up some vinyl graphics?” and he goes “Yeah” and I say “I’ve been in the trade all my life.. “ I started telling him and you know what he did? He snorted at me! He laughed, like, “Look at this pathetic old wino”, you know? I couldn't answer him, I was dumbfounded. I thought “This young punk doesn’t know. I’ve forgotten more than he could ever learn. I could take over his job right now and do what he’s doing, and he’s scoffing at me!” I’m a Vietnam veteran, I’m used to that kind of humiliation, you know, a rejection of values. That’s where the sign trade went. My dad was good at his craft but he wanted to go into other things. Sign painting is one facet but when it takes off super modern only a few can stay in it and prosper. There’s a lot of little guys that get their own computer but they don’t know the first thing about design, layout, color harmony, none of that stuff.
AM: Is that what you meant when you said one never fully retires from the trade?
EM: That’s true. Let me get my phone.
*Eddie Morin, grasping his wooden cane, stands and walks to his white van parked next to the Raul Morin Memorial Square. He returns with his phone and a printout of one of his paintings on computer paper.
EM: I’m a big fan of Jack Kirby and comic book art…
AM: I love it. The 1shot… the painter’s hat… Is it a sho-card?
EM: That’s an oil painting. It’s like 28 by 40, something like that…
AM: So you started doing more than just lettering obviously.
EM: Yeah I like pictorial. I’m a lightweight in pictorial, I don’t try to pass myself off as an artist. I know what a fine artist is. But I can do some stuff that will amuse you.
AM: Were you ever around any of the Chicano muralists like Paul Botello or Ernesto De La Loza, for example?
EM: I know their work and they’re good. But like I said, I don’t pass myself off as one of them. Mine are more like a comic art, I’m pulling your leg, having a little bit of fun.
AM: Who were some of your contemporaries who influenced you?
EM: I worked for Ralph’s market for a while and there were two old guys there, Mike Roarty and Dave Kent. They would do sho cards but with flair, I mean they were artistic. Dave Kent told me about Atkinson, you heard of that book, the Atkinson? He was that kind of old school. He had a whole bunch of original ideas he’d lay on some signs and I was really impressed. He was real good. He told me in high school he used to noodle with letters and somebody put him on to the Atkinson book. He took off and started doing that. He worked for years as a painter and then he started doing sign painting.
AM: Did you go to LA Trade Tech?
EM: Yes. Not for sign painting, I took Commercial Art. Bill Beynon was the instructor, a pretty knowledgeable guy. He taught me that a lot of artists think about things as simple line drawings but you have to expand your vision and think about colors, shapes, panels. You start thinking in other dimensions, not just simple line drawings. He taught me about layout too. You arrange your copy in certain units, you use devices like panels and apart from those you have what he called functional devices, it might be an illustration that also serves as a panel, or as a pointer. Somehow it points to the next device where you want to lead your eye. It’s a very sophisticated science and a lot of sign painters don’t have the knowledge.
I did a sign for a restaurant and the owner told me, “I call this guy for a big job and he comes over but when I have a little job he ignores me. He only comes running when I have something that involves money.” Anyway, he wanted a sign done over that said “6 kinds of burritos” and it was all the same size type. Who looks at that? I put a big “6” and then (gesturing a wave) “types of burritos” and then in smaller lettering I listed the types of burritos. Oh, he loved it! He goes, “I like that design better. You gave it some thought.” Here…
*EM begins showing me photos of his work on his iPhone.
EM: See this? This is what’s called a dingbat. In the commercial art trade it’s a filler. It could be a star, a flower, a scroll, a torch you know? Anyway we need four of these, they stole these (from the memorial wall) so we ordered them and we’re going to have them installed for Memorial Day. If you can, show up and give me a supporting hand okay?
Here’s a secret project I have.. I have a lot of stuff in my mind that I can’t find time to do.
*EM describes a secret project that stuns and amazes me which I will not share because it is secret and will be revealed in due time.
…someday I’m going to paint that. I did this one for my niece, she has this little sign in her bathroom. I bought the shoes right here at the Mercado, they cost me twenty bucks. This lettering right here, I used to do in one pass in the old days. You know what it took? Like seven passes. I’d make an error, wipe it off and you know what else? My hand started cramping on me. I’m 83, I’m getting arthritis.. I noticed too, I used to be able to letter with a sho card brush, three eighths of an inch tall, a pretty decent letter. Now even when I write a check my hands start to shake. It’s gone, I don’t have that anymore.
AM: But your eye is still good.
EM: This is what I have planned for Memorial Day, we’re going to re-dedicate the plaque that was stolen. I’m gonna make a big deal out of it.
AM: Do you still live in the area?
EM: I live in Lincoln Heights. My daughter saw this in a magazine and she wanted me to do it. The letters sparkle. I got this device, I’ve only used it a couple of times but I love it; it’s a little box with a crank on it and you pour powder in it and you go like that (makes cranking motion) and it sprinkles it out. So you add linseed oil to the paint and the letters come out with sparkles on them. She hung it in her living room for a New Year’s party. Here’s another painting I did. I passed by this lady’s house and she had a beautiful garden. I complimented her on it so I took a photo and anyway I gave her the painting.
AM: Do you have a dedicated space at home where you work?
EM: My space is very limited, I have a little shed. (Another painting, depicting an interior of a television studio taping a talk show.) This is a statement I made. I gave it to a friend and she didn’t understand it, she made a comment, “I don’t know what it is but I’ll take it”.
AM: It's a commentary on entertainment, television…
EM: Yeah it’s phony, I said the only honest person in the whole building is this guy (pointing to the camera operator) he’s doing his job but everybody else is staged actors… I did this one for a church.
AM: I feel like I’ve seen that..
EM: It’s in Lincoln Heights. What happened - it wasn’t my fault - the paint chipped off. The paint’s not the same. In the old days it’d have lead in it you know, you’d paint a job and it would stay up for years. This one started flaking in two years.
AM: Is it still there?
EM: The pastor ordered it redone in vinyl. I did this for my grandson, a sho card.
AM: You're definitely keeping the brushes wet!
EM: This is a little 1 by 6 sign I did for my sister…
AM: So you’re not using any computer, you’re laying all these out by hand?
EM: Yes. You ever seen these Mexican breads? (a dark brown cutout panel of a pig with white lettering) That’s wood, I painted it and lettered it and gave that to my brother for his birthday. Here’s one of my sho cards. A friend of mine’s mom died. I knew the whole family. He told me he wanted to do something for his mom so I said bring me the information, photograph, everything, and give me time. I had two days to do it! I get it but I didn’t appreciate the pressure.
AM: It seems like clients often don’t appreciate the effort that goes into what we do. Do you have any stories about jobs that went awry?
EM: Yeah one time this guy contacted me, he had this high-tech company and they wanted to publicize it. It’s got to be a one-shot deal, it had something to do with.. I’m not even sure. That’s how mysterious it was… an investigation or something. He had this logo of a giant magnifying glass and then the thumbprint underneath. He wanted me to put it on his roof. He had this building in South Pasadena, a five story building, and on the top floor he had a helipad. It was big, it had a hundred and fifty inch circumference. I got a friend who works in a studio because I didn’t have the facility to do it. I paid him money and he made me the pattern. I went down there and coated out the helipad. I rolled it, I lettered it, I even had my wife’s family who were visiting, they helped me. They swept, and helped clean up.. When I was working on it he told me, “This is hush hush.” He says, “It’s gonna be seen from the fly over for the Super Bowl.”
The Super Bowl was played in Pasadena that year. He goes, “I want the element of surprise.” So I said okay, I understand. I got some dropcloths and rope and I tied them on top. I went the next day to put the finishing touch to polish it off, and my paint’s on the bottom level, the dropcloths are folded up on top, the ropes - it’s all blatantly open. I go, what happened? Who’s messing with me!?
What happened was they had kidnapped some millionaire’s son in San Marino and the FBI commandeered that helipad for their operations. They were doing surveillance and everything. So they just took everything off and put it down. I got seven thousand for the job and it wasn’t enough you know why? I didn’t figure this out, I did the area, space and everything but, bending down makes it harder. Like twice as hard.
AM: Oh, painting on the floor is the worst. I’ve done a couple. I’ve heard one guy recommend getting one of those big exercise balls and lay over the top of it so it supports your weight.
EM: Ah yeah. Everybody has a style. I don’t think it would work for me but I can see how it would work for others. I did a boxing ring too, the center of the ring, a logo and the name of the hotel on the corners. The same thing. I go, I should have got more money because I was squatting down to do the work. You have to use a different paint, you can’t use enamel. You have to use that water-based enamel.
AM: Isn’t that often the case with sign painting, there’s always some unforeseen obstacle that makes you realize you bid too low?
EM: I wrote a bill and I had a friend going over it with me, we wrote down the contracts and everything and that thing actually helped me. But there’s one thing I omitted - any stoppage, any halt of the work that is not your fault, is chargeable, time and charges. One time I painted a sign and the guy wanted me to install it so I show up and he goes, Wait, we’re installing a burglar alarm system, hang on. They had to drill some holes and run some wires and it was a couple hours of waiting time and I thought damn I should have stipulated, my time is worth money you know?
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