How Gene Ingle became an expert mapmaker

How I became an expert . . . and what that means to you

Envision this, if you will . . .

As Allied tanks rumble across France chasing the Germans as Christmas approaches in 1944, a 10-year-old boy lies on his belly in the living room of his Iowa home, mesmerized by the maps recording the action on the front page of his hometown daily newspaper.

There’s no television. No computers. No internet. And radio can’t show maps. But . . .

In the newspaper’s war maps, arrows go this way and that way as Allied tanks roll inexorably toward Berlin. Suddenly, the Germans counterattack with overwhelming force.

The Battle of the Bulge – one of the most famous sieges in history – begins. And the maps on the front page of that boy’s newspaper become even more important in keeping track of the way.

Suddenly, Bastogne – a relatively small Belgian town but an important crossroads – becomes the most significant town on the map. Any map. More than a month later, the Allies break the Siege of Bastogne, and continue their march toward Berlin and victory in Europe.

A lifelong infatuation with maps

Thus began an Iowa boy’s lifelong infatuation with maps.

That boy was me. This is the story of how that infatuation eventually qualified me to draw maps for books and other print media. And, I hope, maps for you.

I wouldn’t say I was born with a silver map in my hands. But I did have an advantage over other kids. My dad worked for DX oil company – and you can’t believe the Mother Lode of maps that filled one room in its offices.

Remember, this was Iowa. And I could walk into that room and take my pick of state or city maps from San Diego to Boston, from Seattle to Miami. I guess the oil company figured most people in snowy Iowa would like to be someplace else, so it would help them get there!

Remember free maps?

Back then, gas stations were where travelers went for their maps – and they were free. They cost the oil companies a penny or two each while Rand McNally laughed all the way to the bank. (How times have changed!)

If the Mother Lode didn’t have the map of Portland, OR, that I wanted, I’d just hop on my bike and go to the nearest Sinclair station, which chances are would have it.

By high school days, I was sure I had the biggest collection of folded paper maps in the Midwest (except for the Mother Lode and Rand McNally).

I studied them. I studied them. And I studied them some more.

I studied how the mapmaker depicted the roads, the lakes, the rivers, the cities. How color was used. How the map folded. Why one publisher’s maps were better than another’s. Later, all this studying would lead to a career.

But that’s getting ahead of the story.

The “Forgotten War” – a new map interest

Then along came the Korean War – the “Forgotten War” -- and war maps again became my passion. Maps with strange (to an Iowa boy) names like Seoul, Pyongyang, Pusan, Inchon and Yalu River. These maps I also devoured. But for a different reason. I might be going to one of those places soon.

I joined the Iowa Army National Guard – and learned to read maps the Army’s way. Eventually, I became the 34^th Infantry Division’s photo officer, then its assistant public information officer, then the Iowa adjutant general’s public information officer. (By this time, I had a degree in journalism.)

While in college in the mid-1950s, I discovered Ludwig Cinatl’s maps in the Milwaukee Journal, I studied his maps constantly in the late 1950s. (Later, in the mid-1960s, while working at the Journal, I was honored to meet the leading newspaper cartographer and tell him how much I admired his work.)

In the early 1960s, I got my chance to put some of my mapmaking knowledge to work while a reporter and editor on the Iowa City Press-Citizen. Though I thought I “knew it all”, crude is the most charitable way to describe my first maps for print. But a story accompanied by one of my maps did find its way into the Congressional Record.

The Vietnam War – my big break

It seems as though it takes a war or some other big news event to showcase the talents of newspaper mapmakers. In my case, it was Vietnam.

The Vietnam War was where I cut my mapmaking teeth, to mix a metaphor. As assistant Sunday editor of The San Diego Union in the late 1960s, I was given the freedom by Al JaCoby, the Sunday editor, to draw maps (of the war and other hotspots) for the Sunday paper (on my own time, of course).

That freedom was all I needed. I was a journalist, and now I was off and running toward a new career: maps (See my Samples). It didn’t take long for me to showcase my knowledge, and I took full advantage of the opportunity. I didn’t start small. I started big. My first map was full-page, full-color.

While in Milwaukee studying Cinatl in the mid-1960s, I discovered that the St. Petersburg Times was quickly becoming a showcase for maps and infographics. The U.S. was GOING TO THE MOON! – and Frank Peters would take Times readers there with stunning infographics. Neil Armstrong made it to the moon before I made it to St. Pete.

But make it I did – in late 1969. As an editor, not as a mapmaker.

A new style: the “3-dimensional map”

My editor’s job gave me the chance to do all I could to showcase Frank’s work, which I did. Frank had a distinct mapmaking style (which I’ve never seen anywhere else) involving a technique that tends to make a map on a flat sheet of paper appear to be three-dimensional.

Back in the late 1960s, I blatantly copied that style and feel remorseful for never having thanked him for letting me swipe his technique. Much belatedly, thank you, Frank. (See my Samples)

In 1977, I left journalism to pursue my map career fulltime, and I’ve never looked back. Since then, I’ve published millions of folded paper maps and more than 40 street atlases and more than 50 wall maps at three companies I have owned.

I sincerely feel that I am unique as a print mapmaker. As a formally trained and award-winning journalist (See my complete Resume), I can combine that knowledge with the eye and talents of a published print-cartographer. That can only help me make a better product for you.

Why am I qualified to draw maps for books?

I’m glad you asked.

Oh, you want more? See my resume.