artist Skip Shelton - Knowitall.org

Skip Shelton first won recognition for his bomber “nose art” during World War II. Since then, he’s painted
varied subjects, from historical murals to portraits.
The Incessant Painter
Skip Shelton Makes Art Wherever He Goes
Article by Chris Worthy ❖ Photos by Patrick Wright
Some might argue that Greenwood artist Skip Shelton should
COURTESY DANIEL L. STOCKTON, www.b24bestweb.com
slow down, find a rocking chair and enjoy his golden years.
But at 83, as he lamented leaving his motorcycle at home on
a sunny spring day, Shelton said age is just a number. “I wouldn’t
say I’m over the hill and enjoying the view,” he said. “I’m not over
the hill yet.”
Shelton is strong and steady, with a physical presence that
belies his octogenarian status. Those who would guess his age
might be off by 15 years or more—something that clearly delights
him. It seems everyone in Greenwood knows him, and he greets
them all with a compliment and a smile.
Shelton teaches art classes one day a week, but much of his time is spent painting. He paints almost
any subject—famous faces, local landscapes, historic buildings and modern homes—on any surface that
stands still long enough. Shelton’s studio is lined with canvases and prints. Drive through Greenwood or
Laurens, where he formerly lived, and his indoor and outdoor murals abound.
30 Sandlapper

While many artists find that painting frees the
spirit, in Shelton’s case it may have saved his life.
Shelton grew up in the Paris area of Greenville and
had completed one year at Furman when he found
himself called to war. To enter the Air Force as a
cadet, he needed two years of college. He completed
his second year at Duquesne University in uniform,
knowing he soon would be half a world away. “I
went to England in 1944,” Shelton said. “I flew a
bomber.”
Though he was a member of the 448th bomb
group, Shelton’s artistic abilities often kept him
sidelined from flight. His own craft, a B-24 known
as “Frisco Frisky,” revealed his talents. “I painted
the sexy woman on the front of the bomber—it was
called ‘nose art,’ ” he explained. “A lot of days, the
commanding officer would keep me down. I wouldn’t
go on a mission. I would paint another airplane,
which suited me because it was better than being
shot at.”
After returning to civilian life, Shelton continued
to paint, working as a staff artist for The Greenville
News, a disc jockey and a motorcycle police officer.
But he earned his livelihood in the clouds. For
many years he was a corporate pilot for Milliken and
Company, flying executives, business leaders, a former
president and some of the other famous people
whose faces now adorn the walls of his studio.
In 1968 he wrote a book, Into the Wild Blue
Humor, that chronicled his 25 years of flying. “My
baby picture is in the back of that book,” said Michele
Hill, Shelton’s daughter. Her father flew professionally
until three years ago, she added. “He
could still hold a first-class medical [clearance] to
fly if he wanted to.”
Following his retirement as a full-time pilot in
1988, Shelton spent 10 years on part-time duty for
Greenwood Mills, a job that brought him to Greenwood
permanently. “Part-time turned out to be five
or six days a week,” he said. “Mr. [Jim] Self was a
prince—not only to me, but all the employees loved
him. He was good to everybody. He was a humanitarian
from way back.”
Not surprisingly, Shelton has countless interesting
tales from his years of flight. One of his
most memorable trips involved Johnny Carson,
who was traveling on behalf of a clothing company.
After inviting the notoriously shy Carson to the copilot’s
seat, Shelton was told by air traffic control in
Washington, D.C., to climb to 37,000 feet.
“I said ‘Roger’ and I climbed
up. When you get there, you are
supposed to report your levels,
so I handed the mike to Carson
THIS ARTICLE IS SPONSORED IN PART
BY JEFF’S GRILL, GREENWOOD, AND
AN ANONYMOUS DONOR.
and I said, ‘Johnny, tell them we’re at 37,000.’ He
did. Of course, I couldn’t stand it. I called Washington
back and I said, ‘Do you know who that was?
That was Johnny Carson.’ The guy said, ‘Yeah, I’m Ed
McMahon. Are y’all having a good time up there?’ ”
Shelton’s favorite passenger was Jim Nabors,
the actor who portrayed Gomer Pyle. Shelton said
Nabors would go out of his way to brighten anyone’s
day and was as friendly and compassionate as his
TV alter ego. The two visited several times, and
Shelton drew a picture that graced Nabors’ Christmas
cards.
A day flying political commentator William
Buckley to a speech changed Shelton’s view of himself
and his place in the world. As he piloted the
plane, Shelton was told Buckley had just earned
$15,000 for his time at the podium. “I got to thinking:
‘He wrote a book and made a fortune; I wrote a
book and I broke even. He wrote for newspapers and
made a fortune; I write and get free advertising. He
makes a speech and gets $15,000; I make speeches
and I get green peas and chicken. But right now, for
45 minutes, to him I am the most important person
in the world.’
“That changed my whole outlook on life. I realized
I can be Daddy-O, too. It changed me. I’m not
self-conscious around celebrities; I don’t care how
much they make. I sat in a party with Jim Nabors,
Carol Burnett and her husband and Danny Thomas
and I did all the talking. It made me have the best
life in the world.”
Shelton may have rubbed shoulders with the
rich and famous, but in Greenwood and Laurens,
his work is often the star attraction. Brianna Lawrence
owns The Briarpatch on 34, a gift store near
downtown Greenwood. Vendors occupy retail space
on both sides of a narrow hallway that leads to
Lawrence’s back room. The room, often used by local
clubs, has become a destination since Shelton began
painting the walls with images of Greenwood’s history.
Though he spent most of a month painting the
room, Shelton may never be done.
“He’s still got more to do because we want to
keep adding some things,” Lawrence said. “When I
bought this building, we were going to try to rent
vendor spaces and I needed something to make people
come this way.”
The mural began with a few buildings and now
covers all four walls. In it, Shelton immortalized
Greenwood Mills. Painting the classic mill building
was a labor of love. “I told Brianna I had just painted
3,000 windows.”
Shelton’s work defies labels.
He works quickly, completing
detailed paintings in
32 Sandlapper

Two Civil War murals by Shelton (above and Page 31) are at the home of Tom Sawyer on Lake Greenwood.
hours—sometimes minutes. He captures the famous
glint in Johnny Carson’s eye as adeptly as
the moonrise over a Palmetto tree. What he sees, he
paints. It’s as natural and easy to him as breathing.
When he teaches, he makes his ability seem attainable
by anyone.
Debbie Kinard, owner of Picture This, a frame
shop in Laurens, helped Shelton with a downtown
mural. He can turn anyone into a painter, she believes.
“He would do the drawing and we would fill
in. We had so much fun doing it. It’s amazing—you
learn how to do it. He’s such a good teacher.”
Shelton is the father of two and grandfather
of four. With his son, golf trick shot expert Buddy
Shelton, he shares a love of flying and a day on the
greens. All who know him envy his health and resilience.
Shelton survived cancer several years ago, a
fact he shrugs off with little fanfare.
Though he paints incessantly, Shelton does
not contemplate the vast reach of his work. For
him, each piece is personal. He develops an Easter
book for Fountain Inn Presbyterian Church each
year and paints a steady stream of commissioned
works—some so large he has to work atop a hydraulic
lift. He created watercolors of historic sites in
Laurens for the town’s promotional brochures and
left images of pin-up girls all over World War II Europe.
Each work has been different, but each fills
Shelton with the joy he sees in those who delight in
his talent.
“Monday, I might like doing a picture of Don
Knotts,” Shelton said. “It might just be in my heart
that I want to do that. Or I might want to do the 18th
hole at Stoney Point. My mood will change and I’m
sure glad.”
No matter what the subject, Shelton feels blessed
to be able to paint. “You can’t believe how much fun I
have doing all this stuff. It’s not the money. You get
paid for it, but that’s not the satisfaction. On Christmas,
I’m thinking of all the people who are going to
open a present and it’s going to be a portrait of their
dog or a painting of their mama’s house. Christmas
to me is exciting, knowing I’ve got at least a hundred
people who are going to open a present I did.”
If Shelton has his way, there will be many more
Christmases to come. “I’ve had a good life,” he said.
“And I’m still having it.” ❖
Simpsonville writer Chris Worthy reported on the
Happy Berry Farm in Six Mile in the summer Sandlapper.
Patrick Wright is a photographer for Clemson
University.
Autumn 2006 33