Remembered

One recent Sunday morning I was entering Central Park for a run. Typically, I try to get there early before it gets too crowded, but this particular morning it was later than normal, and since it was literally the first truly spectacular spring day of the season, I was far from alone. Sharing the entrance path this morning was a mother and her daughter—a toddler in a white dress and a matching sun hat. The girl was running down the path with her mother running alongside her while pushing a stroller. The little girl was cute in the way all toddlers are cute while still at that most toddlerish period, when the act of running makes her look more like a tiny prisoner, the leg irons still attached, seeing her chance at freedom and going for it. As it turns out, the girl was making a bee line for the nearest dog; mom was running interference. Once mom had successfully veered the girl past the dog, the girl immediately took off for the next dog a dozen or so benches up the path. After the third sprint to a dog, the girl was worn out, so mom put her in the stroller and gave her a plush puppy to cuddle, which she did, then after turning around to look back at the last dog and waving the stuffed animal in the dog's direction, yelled 'Puppy!' Cute. By this point we'd reached the main road in the park, and I headed off in another direction, thinking to myself, 'Hmm, I wonder who made that puppy?'

The girl and her mom didn't know it, but they got off lucky. Had this happened on the subway I would have started asking the mom questions… What kind of plush does she like? Are you loyal to any particular brands? Where did you buy that toy? And it would go on like that until I either ran out of questions or the subway doors would open and they'd escape. And I'd go about my life, which, when you're in the toy business, invariably involves wondering why someone you just saw with a certain toy bought that toy instead of the similar version from company XYZ. Of course, an interaction like that doesn't always lead to an impromptu focus group. Sometimes it sparks some memory about your own interaction with that toy or its manufacturer. I can't see a Beanie Baby, for example, without reminiscing about the time that I was ejected from Ty Inc.'s Toy Fair booth. The weird thing was that it was an open booth. There wasn't a check-in desk, and it had entrances on each corner. Being “outside” the booth only meant that I got to see the same Beanie Babies the buyers were seeing, but from behind. Luckily, I'd seen enough stuffed animal butts in my time to be able to figure out what I was looking at. Ah, memories.

Unfortunately, there are times when memories surface in ways you'd prefer they didn't. Last month was such a time. Martine Redman Donofrio, co-founder of Briarpatch, died at the too-young age of 61. Martine's death brought back several memories for me, because she was one of those people in the business I'd gotten friendly with in that business way where you're often at the same place at the same time and can't help but stop to chat. It seemed like no matter where I went, Martine was already there—down some random aisle at Toy Fair, at the ASTRA convention, at ToyCon or some other function; never actually at the Briarpatch booth. It almost got to be a bit of a game in my mind: let's see how long it takes to run into Martine at this event. I was always glad I did. She never failed to have something nice to say about someone or something she'd seen and thought I should check out. I never got the impression she was ever trying to sell me on covering her company or its new products. I always left one of our brief run-ins with the impression that she really enjoyed sharing what she knew or had found; that she enjoyed seeing all that the toy business had to offer. For that reason, it was always refreshing to run into her. She always seemed an optimist. I think the industry was better off for her participation in it, and it's a shame to see her go.

I'd like to ask you to help us share such news in the future. When you know of someone from the toy business who's passed away—be it a retailer, manufacturer, rep or licensor—let us know. The toy community is a small one. We'd like to ensure that you know what's happened to someone with whom you once shared a working relationship.