The tranquil apple orchards in rural Illinois are far from the bustling Big Apple. However, June Goldsborough managed to balance both worlds as she built her reputation as an artist and an independent woman before “women’s lib” became a buzz phrase of the late ‘60s.

Nelle June Goldsborough was born May 30, 1923, in Paragould, Arkansas, close to the Missouri boot heel, where her father, Marshall Goldsborough, an accountant, was working. Marshall and his wife, Nell Beasley Goldsborough, already had a 10-year-old son, John B. Goldsborough. By 1930, the family of four was back home in Salem, IL, living for a time with Marshall’s parents, John T. and Margaret “Maggie” Goldsborough.

Young June took full advantage of the opportunities available in the rural community, where she caught minnows and frogs in Town Creek. The creek at that time was a lush haven where wild animals could drink undisturbed from the cool water and where young girls could watch them and dream. She was fascinated by nature, particularly by animals in their natural habitat.

When she was six, she commandeered some of her brother’s art supplies while he was at school. Now she could express on paper and canvas the beauty of the natural world around her.

Her parents encouraged her. In fact, both of them had a deep respect and appreciation for literature, art, and music; and Marshall Goldsborough drew well himself. He was to be an important influence in her development as an artist.

Later, when June was working in her first commissioned assignment, he constructed the scaffolding to help get her started.

This work came to her when she was still in high school. School Superintendent B.E. Gum used a WPA grant to commission her to paint a mural at Oak Park School in Salem.

The mural, which depicted a young girl, two boys, and a dog, resembled a “Dick and Jane primer,” said Frank Brinkerhoff, former principal of Oak Park School.

The school was later closed and eventually remodeled into an apartment building. The mural is still intact, but hidden behind drywall because June had painted directly onto the concrete wall.

After high school, she attended Southeastern Missouri State College and the St. Louis School of Fine Arts at Washington University, where she was one of the youngest students. Even in St. Louis, she managed to find nature subjects for her artwork. Some of this work appeared in Parade Magazine, a national supplement to Sunday newspapers.

In 1949, after a taste of the professional art world in St. Louis, June moved to New York to attend the Arts Students League. The League had a reputation for both progressive teaching methods and radical politics.

Although June was quick to share her opinions with anyone who would listen, she was probably more attracted to the League because of its artistic philosophy: artists were there “solely for the love and pursuit of art, the yearning for exchange of artistic ideas and techniques.” A cooperative society based on mutual help among all its members, it was, at one time, the most important art school in the country.

Besides, the young girl could not fall into ways that were too radical because she had brought her mother with her to New York.

Where June’s father had been such an influence in her early development as an artist, Nell Goldsborough now became June’s constant companion, confidante, and adviser.

“Nell had an unbelievably strong influence on June. They were best friends,” said Martha Richardson, who was the Goldsboroughs’ neighbor at their first address in Brooklyn, on Pineapple Street.

When closing the June Goldsborough estate in 1999, executor and friend, Myron Lloyd, found many pictures of June and Nell together, pictures that showed how happy Nell, in particular, was with the New York lifestyle.

“June idolized her mother, not to say they didn’t disagree sometimes,” said Lloyd.

Her deep respect for her mother kept June from using her first name, Nelle.

“That was her mother’s name. June would not have felt worthy,” said Lloyd.

Richardson remembers hearing, through an adjoining apartment wall, the mother and daughter laughing together at two in the morning as they were washing dishes.

“Nell was as smart as June, and they both loved children,” she said. They were also frequent babysitters for Richardson’s son, David, who later served as a model for June when she began illustrating children’s books.

Before the children’s books, however, she worked with advertising and promotional illustrations, especially those for New York phone book covers. A sample of her art from this time is actually quite prevalent even today: the phone receiver that appears on many phone booths.

Despite her successes in these arenas, June most enjoyed drawing children and animals because she felt that her talents were best suited to these images. Eventually she was able to focus her freelancing entirely on illustrations for children as she drew for some of the popular Golden Books, textbooks, and even film.

Her first children’s book was The Nine Friendly Dogs by Felix Sutton (Wonder Book 1954). Perhaps her most recognizable characters, however, were ones she did not enjoy drawing: Raggedy Ann and Andy. She felt these characters did not challenge her enough. She especially disliked The Raggedy Ann and Andy Storybook because the publisher reduced some of her color drawings to small black-and-whites.

In 1964, she designed and illustrated the Sights and Sounds film series, which won the first award in its category at the American Film Festival in New York.

Her work seemed especially popular in the 1960s and 1970s, a time of tremendous changes in America.

“June was a barrier breaker,” said Richardson. “She definitely approached things out of the box.”

In fact, June broke some traditional artistic ground when she brought minorities from the backgrounds of illustrated scenes to the central focus of the picture.

Richardson remembers a cover that June illustrated for a New York Times “camp issue.” The pictures showed integrated children—Asians, African-Americans, as well as Caucasians—going off to camp together.

Her artistic progress seemed particularly astounding after that cover as June continued to break barriers—lunching, for example, at a New York club that had previously been designated as only for men.

Nell continued to be a guiding influence in June’s career, even serving in a capacity as an agent at times. Nell kept a library of clippings for June to give her ideas for possible illustrations.

The New York years were a busy time for the mother and daughter. June was impatient by nature, and during this time she always seemed to be rushing from one location to another.

Richardson remembers June’s mad dashes out the door each morning to catch the subway for some appointment for which she was probably already late. Mr. Richardson exited his apartment at a more leisurely pace, yet somehow he managed to be waiting at the same time and place with June for the subway.

June’s impatient dashes did not end when she became a licensed driver comparatively late in her life. She and Nell needed a car when they moved from Brooklyn to the suburbs. However, speed zones presented little discouragement to the spirited artist.

While in New York, June and Nell frequently traveled miles to see the sights. A pink dogwood tree in Fairfield, Connecticut, particularly intrigued June, and each year she and Nell traveled there to see the “famous pink dogwood all abloom.”

She also loved the Brooklyn Heights Esplanade, an area still visible from the Brooklyn Bridge. In fact, the bridge itself fascinated her. She had colored pictures of it in her bedroom and bathroom and several black-and-white snapshots of it around her house.

These snapshots always seemed to include a tugboat, an inspiration for the tugboat that appeared in her children’s illustrations.

Another favorite “day trip” for June and Nell was to Kent, Connecticut, to see fellow artist Eric Sloane. June was a big fan of his work and even tried to copy his style in some of her own work featuring barn scenes.

Sloane was considered an authority on early American rural architecture and early American tools. However, he is probably best known for his cloud painting that covers an entire wall of the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum in Washington, DC. (Amelia Earhart was also a fan.)

June socialized in a world filled with artists, writers, and other interesting people. However, she never married. Her family consisted of her mother and her dogs.

She always traveled with her dogs, and if they were not welcomed somewhere, she did not go there.

Later, after she retired and returned to Salem, she was sure the Salem police were targeting her unfairly because they often pulled her over for driving with one of her three dogs in her lap and the other two in the car.

In New York, June also developed a fondness for antiques and furniture, particularly Hitchcock furniture handcrafted in Riverton, Connecticut. Hitchcock furniture dates back to as early as 1800 and is distinguished by elaborate stencil designs and complementary striping and banding that accent the contours of the furniture.

June’s only regret about her life in New York was perhaps that, although she illustrated dozens of books, she authored only one: What’s in the Woods. This book sold well in England but received only moderate attention in the United States.

When Nell passed away in 1975, New York was already changing, and the city was not as much fun for June without her mother. June stayed there for a few more years, but her longing to return home grew stronger each day.

In 1985 she moved back to Salem. The modest home on North Franklin appealed to her because there was room for an office with large windows that allowed plenty of natural light for her artwork.

Although the house was invitingly close to rural Salem, June used gardening skills she had learned from Martha Richardson to bring a bit of rural flavor to her yard. Landscaping in her back yard had a natural look with wild flowers, bushes, and many trees.

As happy as she was to be “home,” she also missed the “busyness of the city.” Nevertheless, she was quite interested in her hometown and became involved with projects promoting it.

A wall of the Marion County courthouse displays her mural of William Jennings Bryan, the “silver-tongued orator” who was born in Salem. Officials from the Salem Post Office also commissioned her for the design on its envelopes for the Bryan two-dollar stamp on its first date of issue: March 19, 1986, the 126th anniversary of Bryan’s birth.

In 1990 she painted Montage: Salem for brochures and other materials used for the city’s anniversary Jubilee dance. When Salem City Hall was later renovated, former city clerk Jo Stallings asked her to create a bigger version of the design, which is now in Salem City Council Chambers.

The mural consists of scenes that represent Salem and the overall spirit of Marion County: local industries, an oil well, the railroad, Salem’s participation in the Civil War, the old Brown Shoe Factory, and even a marker for Interstate 57, the construction of which seemed to fascinate her.

Her work is also included in Salem’s veterans’ memorial at East Lawn Cemetery. Jerry and Ellen Sinclair commissioned Lest We Forget, and June painted it in memory of her brother, John B. Goldsborough, M.D., a captain in the U.S. Army. The painting was subsequently donated to Salem American Legion Luther B. Easley Post 128, who distributed replicas as fundraisers to maintain the memorial.

Semi-retirement was not necessarily an acceptable lifestyle to June, who continued her freelance work for children’s books and textbooks. While in Salem, she illustrated an environmental series for young children. The books were published by Augsburg Fortress Publishing of Minneapolis.

In February of 1999, she finished her part of what would be her last work, Festival of the Animals, which remains unpublished because the narrative was never finished. The story is set in St. John of the Divine Episcopal Church in New York. A little lost dog shows up at the church for the annual Blessing of the Animals ceremony and is found by a special person.

The dog’s name is Dudley, the name of one of June’s three dogs. As always, June continued to have her dogs around her. They were usually passengers in her car as she made her way around town. Despite her love for her “family,” she did worry about becoming known as Salem’s “Dog Lady.”

June was intelligent, well read, well informed, and unafraid to share her strong opinions. A woman who loved life and people, she could be quite matter-of-fact about the celebrities she had encountered during her career.

However, she was not without a few endearing quirks. A neighbor remembers sending her son next door to help June find her glasses. He found them—at the bottom of her fish tank.

“There was so much about June that was wonderful, yet sad and depressing,” Lloyd said. “I think it was the typical life of an artist.”

Richardson considered her “one of my favorite people I’ve ever known.” A caring friend with a keen sense of humor, she was also an independent, freethinking woman ahead of her time.

“You always knew where she stood on any issue,” Richardson said.

Sometimes she could become angry, uptight, and tense around people, but she would quickly move past the anxiety. She was honest and could handle an honest opinion about her work or anything else.

“Just listening to June made one know her circle of friends in the art world and the footwork involved in selling her product,” Stallings said. “I don’t think she knew how interesting she was.”

Yet when she was gathered for conversation with friends, she seemed to hold audiences, almost like the Pope.

With her focus so much on her art, animals, and environmental concerns, she had little time to worry about her physical appearance.

“She couldn’t have cared less about looking stunning,” Stallings said.

She had a short, easy-to-maintain hairstyle and huge eyes that seemed to record every detail of the world around her.

“Most of the time, she dressed like a typical artist, meaning it just kinda happened, if she was lucky,” said Lloyd.

However, when she decided to dress up, the short, slightly stooped woman could be quite impressive.

She favored scarves around her neck, a mink-stole effect that may have been a remnant of her New York days when panhandlers did a booming business selling fake Gucci scarves on Fifth Avenue.

When she dressed up in winter, she often wore a gray wool cape that gave her a classic look.

Although she was receptive to the opinions and advice of others, her independence prevented her asking for help in more routine matters. Most of her work, prolific though it was, brought her relatively little money.

“In reading her journals, you could sense there was always a struggle financially,” Lloyd said.

When Stallings asked her to paint Montage: Salem for City Hall, June asked for an advance to pay for supplies. “I beat myself up for not catching on at that point,” Stallings said.

However, June would not have been one to accept financial help from friends. On the other hand, she was generous with her own time and money.

“She was quick to help,” Richardson said. Hand-painted cards and pictures were common gifts for those she cared about.

Nelle June Goldsborough passed away March 31, 1999, en route by helicopter to Barnes Hospital in St. Louis. “Probable sepsis” was, at least, a contributory cause: she had eaten some egg salad that caused her to be sick enough to call for help. She was airlifted from Salem to St. Louis because the results of the food poisoning were so severe.

According to her cousin, Margaret Parsons, even at this time June’s thoughts were of the care of her dogs.

An auction was held May 16, 1999, to sell her possessions. Most of those attending were friends who were genuinely interested in June and in her work.

June’s career had begun and ended in the town she called home.