Journey into Comics #83… I had no idea what to write for this article. So I called Dekalb’s own Lucy for a suggestion and she said “women in comics.” I have no pertinent knowledge of that topic so I began thinking about the women in my life that are part of my love of comics. So here is our story as embellished by time and the need for a more dramatic retelling of my boring life.
In the beginning my maternal grandmother hated comics. Absolutely terrible kiddy garbage. She smoked, drank her scotch, played golf, played bridge, she was the essence of elegant sophisticated country club rich house wife with 2.5 children. The .5 child was my mom. The runt of the family who would go to my great grandmother’s house after school every day. Why? Because grandma’s are the best. My great grandmother would give my mom (and brother and sister) some change to go to the corner store and get candy and a comic. My mom loved reading comics as a young child. It was her escape from the “perfect family” image of “children should be seen and not heard.”Flash forward 20 or so years later and I showed up. My mom bought me my first comic when I was 3 and half. Peter Parker Spectacular Spider-Man #18 had a Gil Kane Spider-Man swinging away from an angry Iceman carrying an unconscious Angel! I was hooked. I “read” that thing to pieces. I still have it, barely.
My next book was Marvel Tales #85 a reprint of Amazing Spider-Man #106. Spider-Man get caught on videotape taking his mask off! So he makes a Halloween mask “get caught on camera again” to disprove he is Peter Parker!
From that point on I got a new comic every few months. Anytime I saw a spinner rack I would beg for one. My mom loving that I was reading them, kept on buying me new ones. A issue of Conan here, Thor there, Micronauts, GI Joe, Transformers etc.
Then in the very early 80s my mom took me to Graham Crackers Comics. In Naperville. On Washington ST. Past the malt/ sandwich shop I barely remember. I entered and saw an arcade game and a magical thing on the counter. PLANET. OF. THE. APES. My favorite movie ever! As a comic. 
Only it was not just a comic, it was much bigger. The size of a magazine!!! And only for a Dollar! Holy crap. I begged and begged to go back. We did and I found the next greatest thing ever! KISS! IN. A. COMIC. And again not just a comic but a magazine sized comic. Fighting Dr. Doom! My favorite (and only band I knew the name of) KISS had their own comic. I destroyed that one too. I read it over and over and over. “They put KISS’s blood in the ink mom!” Then we went back a few weeks later. Graham Crackers Comics was gone. I can’t remember what was there, I just remember the soul crushing sadness. Major blow to my fragile existence.
But then enter another wonderful woman. Ryan Trent’s mom. I was over at his house and his brother had Robotech: The New Generation comics and something called Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles comics. Again I was in love with Robotech the cartoon and now there was a comic of that too? Holy crap. But where could I get them? Graham Crackers was gone. Or so I thought. Ryan’s mom told my mom that comic book store moved behind the print shop next to the bowling alley. BAM! LIGHTNING STRUCK! I starting going to Graham Crackers on an almost monthly basis from that point forward.
Then enter Caroline Beck. I’d known Caroline since maybe kindergarten or 1st grade. She was one of the cutest, nicest girls ever. We sat next to each due to the alphabet for many, many years. Until 6th grade English class. As chance would have it during an amazing week on Norse Mythology, Henry, a particularly gross young man was sitting behind Caroline, picking on her incessantly. She complained to our teacher Mr. White so much I had to switch seats with him so she was away from Henry’s reach. This amazing event solved her problem and more importantly put me next to Scott Johnson. Scott. Freaking. Johnson. I’d know him just as long. And he happened to bring in X-Factor #17 that week. 
Why is this important you ask? Simple. During our course on Norse mythology I started to fall in love with the Norse Thunder God Thor. I was drawing my crude version of him all over my notebook and brown paper bag book jacket. That day Scott leaned over and showed me the opening splash page of X-Factor #17 saying I was drawing him wrong. I looked and it had Iceman on it. Yeah the same Iceman that was trying to kill Angel and Spidey 10 years earlier! Except he was overshadowed by this massive blue and gold armored superhero with a twirling hammer. Walt Simonson’s battle armor Thor. The God of Thunder was
returning Iceman to Midgard after Loki and the frost giants had captured him. My 13 year old brain could barely handle the epicness of that image. Until that day it was always the character that grabbed me. I liked Spider-Man so I got Spider-Man comics. He wasn’t always as cool looking but hey Spider-Man. Now suddenly it was a character I was becoming more and more invested in but he looked sooo much cooler ever. I had a Thor comic. It was a good read but nothing special. He fought some purple He-Man lizard demon guy. Meh. That day though, I learned my first artist name. Walter Simonson. Walter Simonson’s version of Thor. His cape was HUGE and flowing everywhere. His knee pads were HUGE. Thor was spinning his hammer so much it took up a third of the page! Scott told me Walter was drawing the Thor comic and this was how he looked now. I skipped lunch that day, saving my precious lunch money. I skipped the bus and walked home that day. Stopping of course at Graham Crackers Comics on the way. I picked up 2 issues of Thor that day. Sweet merciful Odin. I love that cover. To this day I love that cover. I have gone to or worked at a comic book store every week of my life since. I have collected every issue of Thor since. I have gotten every issue from Journey into Mystery #82 to this week’s issue. I have collected nearly every Walter Simonson comic I can find. All thanks to some pretty goddamn wonderful woman. And this story doesn’t even mention my paternal grandmother. Next time.