The Life & Art of James B. Zerger

Jim Zerger lived a short life. During his vapor-brief existence, though, he painted art that is awing people today, decades after his death. Time will tell how far into the future his paintings will travel.

Jim's artwork will be featured tonight 6 to 8 p.m. at the Artitudes Gallery Artist Reception, most of it showing for the first time.

The most notable of the paintings is a large, rectangular canvas that depicts a bone floating through many blue shades of outer space. Or it could also be, according to Jim's brother and instigator of tonight's reception, a bird's-eye view of a lone, barren island in the isolation of the sea.

Tim Zerger, whose crimson-buttoned shirt made white smudges of sheetrock dust obvious, took a break from installing a shelf in the Community Alliance Church choir room last Friday to talk about his brother.

Like artists tend to be, Jim was the first of two boys born into an artsy family.

Younger brother, Tim, who chose music as his creative avenue of expression, said their dad was a woodworker, who considered going to school to learn how to design ships, and "Mom had a good eye for things."

Their dad never designed ships, but he did build a lot of the frames that hold Jim's paintings today.

Six years younger than his brother, Jim who was born in 1946, Tim didn't begin to understand how special big brother's talent was until his teenage years.

"The earliest thing I remember was when I got to high school, I happened to get the same teacher he had six years ago. She said, 'Oh, you're Jim's brother. I look forward to seeing what you can do,'" Tim recalled.

Jim was smart, focused and well-liked, with a hint of rough edge, "but not terribly," he added.

The culture at the time was very "Leave it to Beaver," and older brother Jim fit in just fine, Tim said.

"He spent a little bit of time trying to be a tough guy, but it didn't last. He wanted to be a police officer. He was too skinny to be tough," Tim said about his brother, chuckling.

Jim's fleeting law enforcement aspirations were something he picked up from his time in the U.S. Army, after he was drafted. His unit served in Holland at the end of the '60s. Although he never encountered the dangerous Vietnam jungles like so many American soldiers at the time, he nevertheless returned home with irreversible damage.

Jim was lightly hit by a truck while standing guard at his post in Holland. He saw the doctor the next day and said his left knee was hurting. The doctor told him to give it some time - since he would be getting out soon - and if the knee still hurt when he got home, he should visit his family physician.

He went home to California and saw a doctor for his still-aching knee. The doctor immediately diagnosed that Jim, 23, had a tumor in his leg.

The tumor developed to the size of a football before being removed. Tim said the Veterans Affairs doctors were doing "some pretty inventive things" back then.

"The tumor crushed the arteries in his leg. So they took veins from his other leg and replaced the arteries with the veins - it was either that or amputation," Tim said. "He had this incredible scar that went from each of his knees all the way up to his abdomen that looked like a big wishbone."

But the operation did not stop the cancer from spreading. Jim had to get chemotherapy. The chemo, combined with powerful drugs, rendered him almost continuously sick.

Almost.

"He'd have one good week a month. And in that one good week, he'd live life. He would paint, he'd go camping with me - he'd do whatever he was going to do. It was always hard on his body, but he would do it," Tim said.

Most of the work that will be featured in tonight's show, and through February and March, was created during this embattled time.

When talking about the "big, blue painting," Tim said there's a "certain amount of adventure, a certain quality of science to it" that is reflective of his brother's personality. And as far as the isolation the painting communicates, that speaks to the dynamic Tim had with his brother.

"When I looked at his paintings and drawings, I got it. I understood what he was trying to do. And when he died, then I didn't really have anybody who I communicated with on that subliminal level," he said.

Before dying, Jim did one last thing, something that would change the course of his younger brother's life more than anything else he had done up to that point.

Jim was on his deathbed when the hospital called a pastor to come and pray with him. The pastor "shared Jesus" with him, Tim said.

"I had 15 minutes to talk to him afterwards, and he was very much at peace. You could say it was the pain drugs, but there was something about it that was different than that. He was very gentle and calm and at peace," Tim said of his last moments with his brother.

Those last moments would help redirect Tim entire life and propel him on the course he is today. Tim Zerger is a pastor at Community Alliance Church because of his brother.

Jim died in July 1974. He was 29.

Tim wants to honor his brother's life through displaying his art.

"As I'm putting up the artwork, I'm sensing my brotherly connection with him," he said.

Almost as an afterthought, Tim smiled and said, "I'm looking forward to seeing my brother."