The work of artist, Charles Haubrich . . . my father.

My father, Charles (aka, Chuck), died when I was about to turn 10. It was an extremely painful loss for me. He was my best friend. For years I've been meaning to build a page for him on my website, to share his talents with anyone who might search and find this page. I want him, and his work, to exist somewhere in this new age of virtual reality. He died just at the beginning of what would have been an amazing career as an artist. Jimmy Hoffa bought one of my dad's sculptures. Yes, that Jimmy Hoffa. My father slaved away in the drafting department at Ford Motor Company. He had just been promoted to the design department about a year before he died. I spent many evenings with him in his studio, imagining and creating little worlds, small objects, and tiny people, all while listening to the ever suspenseful Detroit radio show, Mystery Theater.

My dad would weld bits of metal "junk" together and create 18th century stage coaches, Model T Ford cars, and turn of the century biplanes. He made an entire chess set out of small metal juice cans. And it wasn't just metal. He was an aspiring cartoonist and illustrator. He loved Walt Disney and Norman Rockwell. It would've blown his mind to know that his youngest daughter went to Disney's grad school and later met Norman Rockwell's son, Jarvis, in Massachusetts. 

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On the evening of January 26th, early morning of the 27th, the furnace in our house in Romulus, Michigan, exploded. I escaped first, then my brothers joined me. We discovered that my mother wasn't even in the house when she pulled up in the driveway moments later. My father, however, was still inside and never made it out. 

He was a wonderful person. I'm happy to finally share his work and story with those who find this page.

​Miss you dad!