A Few Words About Josh Meador

Josh Meador, born and bred in Louisiana, was an oil painter extraordinaire, and one of the giants of the Disney animation staff...

Josh lived in La Crescenta, California for decades (just a few blocks from our house.) He and my father were close chums for years, going on numerous painting trips the width and length of California.

Josh had a passion for "The Valley of Fire" in Nevada. And not just for its beauty. For years he searched for a treasure of gold he believed was hidden in the Valley. He never found it, but it wasn't for lack of trying.

Josh joined the Disney staff in the 1930s, and was soon promoted over more senior animators by Mr. Disney, who recognized a tyro effects animator when he saw one. As animator Eric Larson noted:

You know this guy Josh Meador* was a nut. He was absolutely dedicated. And the kinds of people with his talent, you don't very often find. He was so dedicated and observing and analytical, and his sense of timing for [effects animation] was terrific. He shot stuff in slow motion so people could study just exactly how water or milk or any substance of varied density would break up if something was tossed into it. So that the rest of the crew would know exactly how it would break up. All you have to do is look at that underwater stuff (on Pinocchio), and you realize that he really passed that information on to a lot of people. By the time we got to Fantasia, we had sixty four people in the effects department alone. We had about twelve hundred people in animation.

Meador was in charge of effects on Pinocchio, Fantasia and most of the Disney features that followed. And he did effects for 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and Forbidden Planet for which MGM sub-contracted the Disney effects department. He also did his share of television. That flashing "Z" that Guy Williams carved into various jackets and uniforms as Zorro? Josh Meador animated a lot of them in stop motion.

Josh died in 1965, the victim of a congenital heart defect. His wife Libby told my father that she found him sitting on a step at their house in northern California, looking out at the Pacific. He just sat down and died, a cigarette smoldering in his hand. There are worse ways to go.