Everybody faces obstacles in life, but mine started early. My mom gave me the name Pepper Salter and I guess my dad was an enabler because he never said, “No! Stop! That’s a horrible idea!”

All through school, kids teased me about my name, but even worse, teachers laughed at me, too.

I was born and raised in California and grew up with a brother and a sister, Michael and Laura.

Where are their stupid names?

I went to U.C. Berkeley in the Sixties and then taught 4th Grade in South Central Los Angeles.

Although brain-damaged and epileptic from treatments, at home David was one of the gang, and he was never lonesome. Sadly, when he was eight years old and ready for Camp, no Camp would have him. 

So, my parents and I created Camp Good Times for Children with Cancer, where David and his pals flourished. President and Mrs. Reagan were regular visitors to Camp and they loved it, too!

Bud and I turned out to be incredibly incompatible so we divorced. Despite my mom’s warning that, “Nobody, but nobody, will want a person with five children and a donkey,” within minutes, I met and married a park ranger named Joe.

The best I could do for my new husband was produce two little Edmistons. Joe expected his own sons to be more civilized. LOL. William and Charlie, musician and artist, joined the tribe and fit in perfectly. 

My replacement baby turned out to be a Cookie Jar! In 1988, I purchased my very first one, a tubby lady in a bathing suit. Whenever I missed my babies, I’d buy a new jar. Problem solved. 

My full-bodied people cookie jar collection now numbers in the hundreds, yet every single jar is special to me, just like each one of my children!

Life was good and then it wasn’t.  For years David was content and his siblings were thriving.

Then, one Sunday morning, just before his 35th birthday, David succumbed to a devastating seizure; my sweet boy was gone. David was the heart of our clan and we miss him every day.

People have often asked, “Since your name is Pepper Salter, why don’t you collect salt and pepper shakers?” My answer is always, “If this was your name, would you?” So far, no takers. 

The name my parents gave me was annoying, but for the most crucial challenge of my life – David’s well-being - they were there for us. David’s suffering became my suffering and my parents ached for us both.  

Losing my mom knocked me out and I didn’t know how to recover from the loss. I was bereft. I missed David most of all but I missed my dad and mom and our little triangle of love, often the privilege of the first born. Despite my many blessings, I couldn’t cheer up.

One day I realized that cookie jars could make children happy, too. But rather than a heavy, breakable, ceramic jar that could be hurled at a helpless younger sibling, what about a portrait of a cookie jar on a brightly colored canvas, hung high on a wall? Thus, was born Baby Art Mart!!