By the end of the 50s, everything began to collapse and, little by little, I lost all of my work. I lost Rex, the Wonder Dog and all the westerns.

It was exactly an assembly line. You could look into infinity down these rows of drawing tables.

Everything was sensory and I never saw the structure in anything.

I was hired as a penciler.

I was not too smart and constantly mouthed off and didn't know anything.

But I was also a big mouth, I started to develop a troubled relationship with Harry Shorten.

DC used to print up all of their pages, they were the only company that did it.