Lyle, Lyle Crocodile

Today is the birthday of one of the nicest human beings I ever had the chance to work with, Bernie Waber. A quiet, unassuming man, Bernie had a gentle sense of humor—one that he relied on for books like Ira Sleeps Over and Lyle, Lyle Crocodile.

Born in Philadelphia, Bernie moved frequently during his childhood years; during the Depression, his family often fled just before the bill collectors arrived. In each new town Bernie located two things: the public library and the movie theater. In Children’s Books and Their Creators, he wrote that during his childhood he was “a hopeless, chronic daydreamer. Everyone told me it was bad—bad, bad, bad—to daydream…. I tried everything to cure myself of the pernicious affliction… The problem deviled me all through my maturing years. Even in the army, sergeants constantly bellowed at me to wake up.”

He did not set out to be an author of children’s books; trained in commercial art, he designed and illustrated magazines. But several art directors looked at his portfolio and told him that his illustrations would be perfect for books for the young. As a father of three, Bernie read aloud to his children, often inventing stories. Once again he found himself hanging out in the children’s section of the library. Consequently, he began writing and illustrating his own stories, and, after some rejections, Houghton Mifflin started publishing his work in the early 1960s.

In 1965 Bernie took a character that had appeared in another book, The House on East 88^th Street, and starred him in his own story: Lyle, Lyle Crocodile. Lyle, a very well-behaved crocodile, lives with the Primm family on East Eight-Eighth street. But because of an unfortunate episode, Lyle finds himself incarcerated in the Central Park Zoo—and he just doesn’t cotton to all those other crocodiles. Fortunately, the Primms find a way to bring him back to his preferred home.

Even though Bernie became highly successful as an author, he never left his day job designing magazines. He always maintained that he would create better and more thoughtful books if he did not have to rely on them for income. It meant he could polish material for as long as he needed and even abandon a project if it wasn’t coming together.

It also meant that his public appearances were few and far between; I was fortunate to be with him on many of them. I always wished that more people had the opportunity to meet one of the most lovable authors in the field. It was a treat to hear Bernie talk about his creations, accompanied by his wife Ethel who usually sported crocodile jewelry. Over the years, the Waber household has become a repository of crocodile memorabilia.

Bernie Waber understood children; he knew how to make them laugh; and he never took himself too seriously. Bernie died a few months ago; but his books live on.

Here’s a page from Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile: