In the run-down main lobby of the US Grant Hotel, a little boy of 12 years stood as eager as he could be. In school, bullies have called him names for looking up to a hero who climbs up walls and admiring a patriot who throws a shield. But where he was now, no bully could reach him. The little boy could not control the weather like Storm from the X-Men, but he felt that his excitement electrified the air. He was about to attend his first Comic Con. He found the entrance in the basement. Instead of leaky pipes and mousetraps, the basement offered convention and meeting rooms. He entered a stuffy room with foldable tables aligned against the banged-up walls. Some 30 to 40 people walked around collecting and trading comic books. The little boy joined a group of young adults debating who would win in a fight, Hulk or the Thing. Everyone was happy and excited in this cramped, dingy room. It was 1970. This is the very first San Diego Comic Con.
The Big Man
In the summer of 1969, Shel Dorf arrived in San Diego. He was a 36 year old comic book collector from Detroit. He had agreed to help his parents retire in the Clairemont community. Shel had planned to return home to Detroit but decided to stay, intoxicated by the San Diego sun, the fresh beach air, and the calm of the neighborhood. He ended up living with his parents in their apartment. A week later, Shel realized that he needed money to support himself.
He searched through magazines and newspapers for “help wanted” ads. With a stroke of luck, his father found a comics-wanted ad in the Pennysaver, a local advertising magazine. Shel had been collecting comic books for years and definitely had plenty to sell. He called the advertiser to meet with him.
Shel knocked on the door of a typical suburban home. A little boy opened. His height came up to Shel’s neck. Shel thought he was scrawny enough for the wind to blow him away. The little boy stared at Shel with his wide eyes through his ruffled, mop top hair.
“Hello, is there a Barry Alfonso here?” Shel asked.
The little boy answered, “You must be Mr. Dorf. I’m Barry.”
Shel’s eyes widened. His mouth opened as if he was going to speak but it closed immediately. Barry Alfonso was a 12 year old child.
Barry invited Shel into his home. In the living room, Shel organized his stack of comic books on the coffee table. One by one, Barry shuffled through them, scanning the titles. There was Spider-Man, Captain America, X-Men, Superman, and much more. Too much.
Barry placed them back on the table. “I can’t buy all of these books.”
Shel was unfazed. He thought to himself, “He probably only had a month’s worth of allowance.”
Barry grabbed a Marvel Comic from his shelf and flipped through the pages. He showed Shel a comics-wanted ad by Richard Alf, a 17 year old comic book dealer. “He should have enough to buy your comics.”
Shel called Richard and arranged a meeting.
An Origin Story
The next day, Richard arrived at Shel’s apartment in his 1954 VW Bug and the two shook hands. Richard was so tall that Shel would stare directly at his chin when looking straight at him. His frizzy, long hair was combed back and went down to his shoulders. Richard sauntered into the apartment to find boxes of comic books on the living room table.
Richard shuffled through the first box of comic books, impressed by the preservation. The books had little to no folds or rips and the colors were still vibrant. He had never seen someone put so much care into protecting the aesthetics of comic books. Richard knew Shel must have had an obsession when he was young.
Although Shel was born on July 5, 1933, he was born again in 1940 when he saw his first comic book. While any other kid would spend their 25-cent allowance on candy, he spent it on comic books such as Superman, Batman, Blue Beetle, Action Comics, and even Disney titles.
As Shel handed Richard another box, he saw the cover of an Action Comics featuring Superman. Characters like him defied everything from his own imagination. Growing up, Shel was drawn to anything larger than life. To see a character leap tall building in a single bound was the highlight of his childhood. Where else could you see that!? Comic books were also the key to his social life in elementary school. He and his circle of friends would talk about the stories and exchange books with one another.
Richard opened a box that contained scrapbooks. Flipping through the pages, there were only cutouts of comic strips from newspapers. Shel snatched the book away from him, remarking that those were not for sale. He had spent a chunk of his childhood collecting those. During World War II, every kid in the country had begun tying newspapers in bundles and giving them to recycling stations in their neighborhood. Shel, however, would cut out all the comic strips from the dailies and the Sunday paper and paste them in a scrapbook with the six daily strips on one page and the Sunday strip on the other. From then on, creating scrapbooks full of newspaper comic strips became a lifetime hobby, eventually resulting in over 500 scrapbooks. Before arriving in San Diego, Shel had spent time in New York City drawing his own newspaper comics for a number of small publications.
Richard continued through the boxes as Shel stood there watching. Awkwardly, Shel asked him what the deal was with San Diego. He couldn’t find any comic book stores, there were very few ads for comics in the Pennysaver, and the closest person to a fellow fan he met was a 12 year old boy. Richard gazed over at Shel, telling him that barely anyone took comic books seriously in San Diego. Curious, he asked Shel how seriously comic books were taken on the East Coast. Shel took a seat and smiled. He told him about one of his most memorable times.
On July 24, 1965, Shel chaired the first ever Detroit Triple Fan Fair. He and some colleagues founded the event in order to create a gathering for people who enjoyed fantasy literature, films, and comic art. It was the whole shebang of geekiness. The event gathered both fans and comic book artists and writers under one roof for a chance to meet the geniuses behind the craft. Fans went wild to meet comic book legends such as Jack Kirby, the co-creator of some of Marvel’s most popular characters. In the program book under the Statement of Principles, Shel wrote, “by establishing this convention, we hope to bring together people…we hope to draw a close bond between the creative artist and his audience.”
Now, Shel looked at Richard with a wide, open smile. “A Triple Fan Fair… in San Diego!” He exclaimed.
Richard raised his eyebrows. Shel wanted to organize a comic book convention in San Diego. There had never been anything of the sort on the West Coast. But Richard was intrigued. In order for this to work, however, they needed help. They were just two nobodies. This convention would need a team. Richard knew just how to assemble one.
Assemble
Richard knew other dealers for the sake of business. First, he called Barry Alfonso, who immediately liked the idea of a convention. Next, he called Mike Towry, a 14 year old comic book dealer. He had long, flowing blond hair and looked as if he worked out; he could easily be mistaken for a bully, rather than a comic book fan. Mike viewed Richard as a mentor. Following Richard’s footsteps, Mike started his own, miniature comic book business. He was always onboard with anything Richard had to offer. Afterwards, Richard called Bob Sourk, a 16 year old comic book dealer in Mike’s neighborhood. He also began his own miniature comic book business and engaged in friendly competition and cooperation with Mike and Richard. With his square jaw and curly hair, he joked that he was Superman. Bob was also intrigued by the idea but wanted to know their game plan. Finally, Richard called one of his regular customers, Dan Stewart. He didn’t know too much about Dan other than that he was a fan artist who may have some interest in this idea. Out of curiosity, Dan agreed to meet with the rest to see what this convention was all about. They were no Avengers, but they sure did assemble.
The following week, the five teenage boys arrived at Shel’s apartment to make a formal proposal for his convention idea. As Shel babbled about the comic book fandom and his past experiences, some of the boys could not help but be skeptical. The oldest teenager there was 17 and Shel was more than twice that age. They were aware of comic book conventions on the East Coast but had no proof that Shel was a founder of one of them. For all they knew, Shel could have been an elaborate con man. As Shel started babbling something about Godzilla, Mike looked over at Richard who was riveted by Shel’s stories. Richard opened his mouth in a fat smile and he nodded his head at everything. Mike still had his worries but if Richard was captivated by Shel and his convention idea, Mike prepared to follow him.
Bob quietly listened. He was skeptical about if this would even be possible. They were just a group of teenage comic book locals and a middle-aged fan. This goal was up in the stars. But like Mike, Bob trusted Richard. They had worked together in their own little makeshift business before. Bob remembered him as a wheeler-dealer. In junior high, Richard sold half-inch high plastic ornamental beer mugs to other students for a dollar each. It was such as random thing to sell and yet somehow, he made it a fad. Anyone who was anyone began to wear these tiny beer mugs on the belt loops of their pants. The two made a deal. Bob would mold Creepy Crawlies, rubbery insect toys, and Richard would sell them. Richard could sell just about anything. Bob put aside his skepticisms and trusted that Richard could sell this convention to the public.
Dan simply sat there listening. The only time he moved was to nod at Shel’s stories and fix his wavy black hair. Whether it was peer pressure from the others or just curiosity, he agreed to stick around.
Barry was willing to take the chance and join this endeavor. The Detroit Triple Fan Fair sounded like a dream. To be able to go to a large room full of comic books and fans would be an opportunity he would not want to miss. And besides, Shel gave Barry no reason to be skeptical. He was an overly enthusiastic man. When Shel talked about trading Thor comics at the Fan Fair, he rolled up a newspaper and held it high, pretending to be Thor holding his hammer. He was very jolly with childlike expressions on his plump face. Barry knew Shel was just a guy who loved comics. Nothing to be skeptical about. And besides, the dream outweighed any skepticism. He was in.
By the end of Shel’s proposal, the boys accepted. They began meeting once a month to discuss how this convention would work.
First, they considered a potential name. They wanted something that flew off the tongue like “Fan Fair.” Shel suggested “Comic Con.” In the summer of 1964, a man named Bernie Bubnis coined the term “Comic-Con” as an oversimplified nickname for his comic book convention in New York. Shel wanted it to be in the official name. However, it was not enough. They wanted a name that was unique to the West Coast. Together, Shel and the boys brainstormed and found a name that felt right: San Diego’s Golden State Comic Con.
Enter the King
Cramped inside a 1954 VW Bug, the five teenage boys rolled towards the San Diego community of Clairemont, bounded by their common interest in comic books.
During this October 1969 meeting, Shel and the boys discussed who could be a guest speaker at Comic Con.
Shel brought up a name that made all eyes lock on him. “Boys, how many of you are familiar with Jack Kirby?”
Like students in a schoolroom, all five boys raised their hands in unison. Shel’s eyes scanned their hands and he gave a nod. His next question had a bigger impact. “How many of you have ever met Jack Kirby? Or even talked to him?
The room fell silent. The boys stared at Shel, then at each other. Slowly all their hands came down.
It was a strange question.
Mike Towry was the most baffled. Why would he ask if we ever met Jack Kirby? It was like asking “How many of you have ever met Zeus?”
To the comic book community, Jack Kirby was one of the most influential American comic book artists. He was even nicknamed Jack “King” Kirby for being the “King of Comics.” In 1940, he and writer Joe Simon had worked together to create Captain America at Timely Comics, the company that would later be known as Marvel Comics. By 1961, he had continued his collaboration with Marvel Comics by combining his art with the ideas of editor-in-chef Stan Lee; together they created The Fantastic Four, a comic book series that began to appeal to the youth culture. From there, he helped create X-Men, Iron Man, the Hulk, and the Avengers. To comic book enthusiasts, Jack Kirby was a celebrity as famous as John Wayne. To Mike Towry, Jack Kirby was Zeus on some sort of Mount Olympus for comic book creators. It would be impossible to meet him, let alone talk to him.
Shel smiled as he asked, “How many of you would like to talk to Jack Kirby?”
“What… really?” Mike gasped in disbelief.
Shel grabbed his rotary phone and faced it towards the boys. He displayed it on the table in front of him as if it was a promotional item. He smirked as he lifted his hand and snatched the receiver of the phone as if someone important was calling him. As he used his finger to turn the dial, the boys stared. Finally, Shel stuck the receiver to his ear. Waiting. The boys were still staring. Waiting.
“Roz? Roz, this is Shel. Is Jack there?” A pause. The boys’ eyes widened. “Jack? Hey Jack, this is Shel. I’m here with the boys! They want to talk to you!”
Shel looked to the boys and handed the phone to one of them. One by one, they spoke to the Jack Kirby. Was this happening? Was this really happening?
The only things Jack Kirby heard were words of praise such as, “Uhh, Mr. Kirby… I really admire your work” along with miniature gasps of breath and cracking voices.
After Barry handed the phone back to Shel, everyone looked over at each other, smiling. Mike looked over at Richard whose face was animated. Richard’s eyes were as wide as possible and his jaw was as low as it could be. He panted from excitement and mouthed the words, “Oh my God.” Knowing Kirby was still on the phone, the boys kept their voices down.
Shel arranged a meeting with Jack Kirby so they could formally discuss his proposal.
The Wise King
On November 9, 1969, the boys pooled their savings to rent a station wagon that could carry all of them with ease to Irvine, California. Barry’s mother drove him, needing to know if this meeting was legitimate and safe.
That summer of 1969, Jack Kirby and his wife Roz had moved to Irvine from New York City. At this time, the comic book industry was flourishing in New York so it was uncommon for a comic book writer or artist to move to the West Coast. In New York City, Kirby would simply look out his window to find his canvas for drawing comics. However, he learned that the city was a permanent part of his memory that he could recreate from anywhere. For Kirby, California was an escape. For the boys, it was perfect timing.
Shel and the boys arrived in a townhouse community filled with sandy-colored stucco buildings, each only two stories high. Jack and his wife, Roz, greeted them at the front door with hamburgers. Jack had a polo shirt tucked into slacks that rode high up his midriff. To anyone unfamiliar with him, Jack Kirby would have just been an old man. To the boys, he was a wise, old sage.
In the living room, Barry was the first to introduce himself. He was wearing a dark turtleneck that he barely filled up. His eyes were wide and unafraid. He did not flinch or slow down as he approached. He looked Kirby in the eye and asked, “Should we call you “King” or “Mr. Kirby?”
Kirby grinned. A light chuckle. Everyone laughed.
The boys asked Kirby questions about his art and about the comic book industry in general. Eventually, they moved into his home studio where Kirby showed them a poster-sized sketch of Captain America. Even Shel asked questions like a fanboy. They all listened intently. After six hours, they still could not believe that they were with Jack “King” Kirby – the man himself!
The boys were not the only ones excited. Jack Kirby, a legend himself, was animated throughout the whole day. “I was doing this story about Galactus see. And he was going up against the Fantastic Four with the Silver Surfer, see. And…”
As Mike listened to Kirby’s stories, he thought to himself that Shel was the real deal. Bob abandoned all his doubts about this Comic Con. If Jack Kirby would allow their group into his private home and share the secrets of his art, then anything was possible. Dan was honored to shake Jack Kirby’s hand but asked no questions and showed the least enthusiasm. To him, meeting Kirby was impressive but it was not the greatest moment of his life. As always, Richard kept his big smile on his face.
After a day of starstruck wonder, Jack Kirby agreed to be the first guest of honor at their convention. San Diego’s Golden State Comic Con was no longer just a dream.
At the end of the day, Mike asked Kirby the one question that set their convention on course. “We’re at the point now where we are trying to decide whether this should be strictly a comic convention or if we should include the fans of science fiction and the fans of films and so on. What would your idea be about this?”
Kirby answered with coolness and confidence. “I’d do it all. Do comics. Do anything that’s been relevant to it. I know that comic fans have also been interested in the movie media. They’d been interested in the pulp media. And all that has some value to them. I think they want to see it. I don’t think they want to concentrate on comics alone. If you can widen the scope of the convention to include all of these, I think you will have a larger crowd and a more interesting crowd and I think you will have a great time.”
The scale had been set higher.
A Close Encounter
Of all the boys, Shel chose Richard Alf to be his right-hand man. Richard owned a mail order comic book service that had ties to Marvel Comics. With his experience working with advertisements and mailing, Richard had developed business expertise that was valuable to Shel. He helped Shel conduct business meetings with potential dealers and speakers. As an added bonus, Richard had a car to drive Shel to these business meetings. The two formed a great business duo; Richard drove and provided business terminology and Shel had connections and was old enough to sign papers. Aside from being business savvy and an excellent chauffeur, Richard’s student life offered an even bigger contribution to the comic convention. In the fall of 1969, Richard began classes at the University of California, San Diego. The November 20 issue of the school newspaper announced that famous science fiction writer Ray Bradbury would be speaking on campus on December 3. Richard drove Shel down to the university to make an offer to Bradbury.
While Jack Kirby was a legend amongst comic book fans, Ray Bradbury was a literary celebrity. He was a science fiction writer known for Martian Chronicles and Fahrenheit 451. Even those who did not favor science fiction could admire his work because he took real issues of the world and used them as the skeletal structure of his stories. With a name such as his, their convention would become a success. Behind the literary genius and prestige, Bradbury also enjoyed comic books, especially comic strips.
On that December night, Richard and Shel arrived at the Revelle Cafeteria at UCSD, where Ray Bradbury was giving his lecture. Shel brought one of his scrapbooks from his days of collecting. At the end of his lecture, Bradbury walked off the stage to talk to students and Shel boldly approached him, Richard following.
Shel handed his scrapbook to Bradbury, who flipped through the pages. “Oh, is this for me to keep?” He asked eagerly.
Shel quickly replied, “Oh no, no. I just brought it to show you because I understood that you liked comics.”
The three of them laughed.
“You know, Mr. Bradbury, we’re putting on a comic convention in August and we’d sure like it if you could attend as a guest,” Shel asked.
Bradbury considered the proposal for a few seconds and answered “Well sure, you know. I’d be willing to come. I will give you the contact information for my manager. You will have to pay for my train down because I don’t fly. And you need to put me up in a hotel room. And then pay my standard speaking fee of $5,000.”
Shel and Richard froze. They could not afford to accommodate his travel arrangements, let alone the speaking fee.
At the start of the Comic Con endeavor, Richard volunteered to cover all financial costs. None of the other boys had sufficient funds and Shel had no money to spare. Richard would use the proceeds from his mail order business for flyers, posters, and reasonable speaking fees. Richard knew the risk of using his money to fund everything even with no guarantee of success. The idea was that if Comic Con was successful, he would get his money back. If it was a failure, there would be a big sigh, an “Oh well,” and a life lesson. What Ray Bradbury was asking for, Richard could not accommodate. But Richard had faith in Shel Dorf that he would not make him bankrupt.
Seconds passed like minutes and Shel finally replied with a solution. “Oh Mr. Bradbury, we don’t have that kind of money. We’re just a small group of fans who are doing this as an educational service to the public. And we’re a non-profit group.”
Ray Bradbury’s eyes widened. “Oh. In that case, I’ll come for free.”
Driving back to Shel’s apartment, Richard smiled that happy grin of his. He could not wait to tell the other boys the great news. They actually got Ray Bradbury. But what amazed him more was Shel’s ability to come up with an ingenious idea at the last minute. As a businessman, Richard knew that being a non-profit organization would make it easier for fans and professionals to support Comic Con. This had gone from a dream to an enterprise. They were no longer a group of boys but an organization. One that would continue to expand.
The Crossover
That summer of 1969, Shel Dorf was not the only East Coast geek to come to San Diego. Ken Krueger, a 42 year old science fiction enthusiastic, began running a bookstore in the Ocean Beach community called the Alert Booksellers. He always came to work in a buttoned up shirt and tie, sometimes an ascot. He had combed-back curly hair and a thick, curly beard, making him look like grand wizard.
Ken was a sci-fi veteran. As a teenager, he attended the very first science fiction convention, Worldcon 1939 in New York City. He later became a member of the First Fandom, an association of dedicated science fiction fans. At his bookstore, Ken started his mail order service and small-press publication, the Shroud Publishers.
That summer, a teenager named Scott Shaw walked into the Alert Booksellers, looking for rare books, pulp magazines, and collector’s items. Ken would always help him find exactly what he needed, whether it was in the store or if he had to order it. Eventually, Scott brought his group of friends from Crawford High School and they became regulars. The group called themselves the Woodchucks, based on the Junior Woodchucks from the Donald Duck comics. There was Scott Shaw, Greg Bear, John Pound, David Clark, and Roger Freedman, all around the age of 17. They banded together in order to promote science fiction literature in their school district. They even established their own fanzine, the Woodchuck Weekly, where they published their own original science fiction stories.
Ken admired them. Each member aspired to become professionals in the fields of science fiction art and writing. Ken became a mentor to them, sharing his knowledge of sci-fi literature. In order to jumpstart their dreams, he allowed them to write introductions and illustrate for Shroud Publishers and eventually printed some of their full stories. Under his guidance, the Woodchucks believed that they could actually become legends in sci-fi literature.
The Woodchucks were inseparable, always working together. Every day, Greg Bear and Scott Shaw compared notes on major topics such as who was the better science fiction novelist, Edgar Rice Burroughs or H.G. Wells – very important matters for these boys. Together, they were always having a sci-fi adventure. Back in 1967, in the high school film club, they filmed “The Sound of Thunder,” a short story by Ray Bradbury. David and Roger had colleagues in the film community who helped with props. John filmed everything with his 8mm camera. Greg wrote the script. Scott starred as the time traveling hunter. Later that year, David, Greg, and John visited the San Diego auditorium to actually meet Ray Bradbury – the man himself! The Woodchucks were as tightly woven as the crew of the Starship Enterprise.
In January 1970, Bob Sourk visited the Alert Booksellers. Along with comic books, Bob was a fan of Edgar Rice Burroughs and wanted to add to his collection. By luck, he bumped into Scott Shaw. The two made small talk about science fiction and comics. At one point, Bob mentioned his involvement with Comic Con and how they were able to get Jack Kirby and Ray Bradbury to attend. If a group of teenagers were meeting geek legends and arranging a gathering for fans, Scott wanted in. Bob asked Shel if they would be willing to expand. Later that month, Shel and Ken agreed to merge their groups. Alert Booksellers became their new meeting place for the convention planning.
The Woodchucks knew how to add some sci-fi flair to Comic Con: films. After filming their Ray Bradbury film, they became well-known in the theater department in their school district. They called in a favor and the department sent them an array of 16mm films including Flash Gordon, The Lost World, and even episodes of Star Trek. Even if a fan came and did not feel like talking, they would never get bored.
Stronger Together
For Barry Alfonso, seeing both groups hanging around the bookstore talking about the convention was surreal. In San Diego, comic books were considered no different than children’s fairy tale books. People gave strange looks towards kids over the age of 12 who enjoyed comic books. One day when Barry’s mother took him to a bookstore to get the latest comics, the owners of the store told her that Barry needed to start reading seriously. They claimed that reading these books with pictures and word bubbles would stunt his growth as a reader.
Barry did not believe this, nor did he care. He did not bother talking to anyone who did not share his passion for comic books. The older students in his class would point fingers at him and ask, “Are you reading a baby’s book?” Barry replied by opening a comic and blocking out the world. But in his own world, he was alone.
Now, Barry found himself in a room of teenagers from the ages of 14 to 19 along with two middle-aged men who have made comic books their profession. No one could call him the weird one because they all loved comics. They were all kindred spirits, rebels to society, misfits. Comic books and science fiction stirred their imagination. They saw themselves in these characters. Peter Parker was a loser in high school but as Spider-Man, he was larger than life. Steve Rogers was just a scrawny guy but became a super soldier as Captain America. All of them knew what it was like to be the loser or the scrawny guy. They read comic books and pretended to be these heroes. And nobody in this room would ever judge each other for that.
Together, the two groups chose the venue of their convention. Shel and Ken contacted the Convention and Visitors Bureau of San Diego who put him in contact with the US Grant Hotel. The entire group arrived to discuss arrangements. When the boys sat down in the manager’s office, the hotel manager glared at them with a raised eyebrow. Shel and Ken did all the talking. It worked. They signed the contracts and everything was set.
In 1970, downtown San Diego was not a happening place. It was seen as a sailor town that did not attract any tourists. The US Grant Hotel knew that this convention would not be a huge money-maker for them but they had nothing to lose.
The Prequel
Realizing that they lacked convention experience and needing more funds than Richard could provide, the group decided that they needed a test run.
On March 21, 1970, the group held a one-day convention known as San Diego’s Golden State Minicon.
The group made posters and flyers. Due to last minute planning, all they did was slab pictures onto pieces of paper. This included a miniature image of the US Grant Hotel, a T-Rex promoting the classic silent film The Lost World, the logo for the feature length film Flash Gordon, and Forrest J. Ackerman’s name along with the cover of one of his Monsters magazines in the corner. They stuck the flyers on fences, mailboxes, telephone poles, and on the windshields of random cars. The word was out.
It came time to choose a chairman for the Minicon. Shel was the obvious choice. However, he refused. Been there, done that, had a blast. He did not want to deny the experience of chairing this event to any of the boys. Ken and the Woodchucks knew that Shel’s boys started this so they should be the ones to lead it. The boys unanimously voted Richard for he was Shel’s right hand and the group businessman. With a flattered smile, he graciously declined. Richard’s mail order business was demanding enough. By default, everyone chose Bob Sourk, the second oldest of the group, with Richard as his co-chairman.
A month before the Minicon, Dan Stewart called Richard, telling him that he would no longer be attending the Comic Con committee meetings. Shocked, Richard asked why. Dan gave no other explanation other than that he was busy. Perhaps he wanted to focus on school or just other interests. Comic Con was not his main priority. The media had a similar thought. When an editor of the entertainment section of the San Diego Union caught word that the US Grant Hotel would be hosting a convention for comic books, he felt that there was no news there. It was just bunch of fanboys in a giant room talking about superheroes and selling comic books. No news. No excitement. There was nothing there. Luckily, Scott Shaw convinced ABC’s local affiliate in Tijuana to cover the Minicon and the three-day Comic Con event.
As patrons walked through the doors of the US Grant Hotel’s Pavillion Room, they saw Ken Krueger sitting on a chair in front of a foldable table crowded with stacks of programs. He wore his white buttoned up shirt and colorful ascot and greeted everyone with a smile and pamphlet. For only $2, everyone could enjoy the whole day at San Diego’s Golden State Minicon.
Barry Alfonso explored the Minicon as a patron rather than a coordinator. He walked into the assembly room where up on the stage, an artist was drawing on a poster and showing everyone the tricks to bringing a character to life, in what was called a “Chalk Talk.” At another hour of the day, Barry sat in the room watching the 16mm film reel of The Lost World. In the dealers’ room, Barry sparked conversation with a group of strangers about their favorite characters and who wanted to trade books.
Barry wandered off from the crowd to look through dealers’ tables in search of any comics that interested him. In San Diego, he could only get comic books at local bookstores, where they were kept in small boxes behind the counter. In this room, a variety of comic books, science fiction stories, and comic strips were laid out for everyone to see and no one would judge him or tell him that reading them would stunt his intelligence.
Curious, Barry entered the auctioning room to see what was being offered next. Sitting in the front row, Barry watched as the auctioneer presented a poster-sized drawing from Mike Sekowsky, a famous artist from DC and Marvel comics. Barry had seen his artwork and felt that they were too exaggerated, with the heroes’ bodies being too bulky and the faces being too simple.
Just as the auctioneer was about to start the bidding, Barry held his hands against his mouth to amplify his voice and shouted, “Do you mean you are going pay us to take it?”
A light laughter intoxicated the first few rows of patrons.
The auctioneer stared straight at him. Unamused, he pointed directly at Barry and replied, “You have no taste.”
Barry smiled and chuckled. He was flattered. A professional auctioneer took the words of a 12 year old boy seriously and felt the need to insult him. In school, he had very few with whom he could share thoughts with. Here, he was able to get into an argument over these topics. He mattered. This was amazing!
When Barry returned to the dealers’ room, he went searching for issues of any comic he could get his hands on. As he searched through the tables, a dealer’s eyes popped in recognition. He had been in the other room when Barry bantered with the auctioneer. He called him out. “Hey, you’re funny. You like Steve Ditko?”
Of course Barry liked him. Ditko wrote and drew Spider-Man.
The dealer took out a stack of books and handed it to Barry. They were the first six issues of The Creeper, one of Ditko’s creations at DC Comics.
The dealer smiled, “You are a plucky little kid with a lot of spunk. Take these.”
Barry strolled away with a big grin. Any other bookstore clerk would have scolded him for asking where the comic books were. But this dealer gladly gave some to him for free just for being his geeky self. For Barry, it was safe to say that the Minicon was a success.
Shel Dorf and the other boys agreed. The Minicon attracted about 145 patrons and accumulated funds that would greatly contribute towards the main event.
The Man Who Saved Comic Con
As Comic Con was coming around the corner, Bob Sourk stepped down as the chairman. Running a test run was enough pressure but the main event needed to be perfect. He could not imagine the stress. As co-chairman, Richard was next in line. This time, he declined because he felt he was not experienced enough to actually handle the main event. They all turned to Ken Krueger, the one with the most convention experience. Not only did he attend the very first science fiction convention, he joined every convention committee after. He had experience with schedule organization, a skill that was needed more than ever.
On the morning of August 1, 1970, Shel, Ken, and the all the boys were hours away from the opening the doors to the first ever Comic Con. The last thing they needed was a scheduling conflict. Then they got a call from a speaker for the 1:00pm “History of Comic Books” panel telling them that he would be late. The panic began. Another call came telling them that the 7:00pm panel for “Comics and Censorship” would need to be delayed to the next day due to travelling mishaps. With the convention opening at 11:00am, the boys had no idea how to fix things under pressure. Luckily for them, Ken Krueger took command.
Thinking on his feet, Ken delayed the opening of Comic Con by an hour which forced him to cancel the scheduled lunch at noon. In order to fill the space open at 1:00pm, he moved Ray Bradbury to that slot while placing the “History of Comic Books” panel at 5:00pm, Bradbury’s original slot. He combined the “Comics and Censorship” panel with the “Underground Comics and Pornographic Science Fiction” panel scheduled for the second day. He filled the 7:00pm time with his own last minute idea. They would have an open discussion about the forms and formation of science fiction, where five hosts would allow anyone from the audience to come up and talk about their own ideas for and about science fiction; it would be a very immersive discussion that gave the audience a chance to get involved.
Welcome to Comic Con
With the schedule back on the track, the doors to the Pavillion Room opened and the crowd of about 300 patrons entered. They gathered in the main room where Shel Dorf stood at the podium with Ken by his side.
He began jokingly, “There is a nasty rumor going around that people enjoy reading comic books. Sometimes they may even learn things.”
The crowd gave a light chuckle. All the boys sat in the front room, cheering him on.
“You and I know that the fan is a special creature. After enjoying something good, they just have to share it with someone. Right?”
The crowd silently nodded.
“There is a story about the fan who, after seeing Godzilla, couldn’t find a single soul to tell it to and just exploded. Here, we have taken the opposite approach. We have created this yearly event for the specific objective of sharing in mind. This is the one place where you can feel at home, sharing your likes and dislikes. During the next three days, many of you will make new friends and hopefully lifelong friendships will be formed right here in this convention.”
One by one, Shel named each boy involved in the process of making this convention a reality. They all stood, receiving applause. They had made it. The whole world would not know what they have done here for years to come. But they knew that they were able to bring together fans under one roof with their heroes.
In the years to come, Comic Con will grow exponentially, attracting fans not only from out of state but also out of country. In 1970, Comic Con welcomed 300 patrons. In 2015, 130,000 patrons. Through Comic Con, fans are able to come together to meet their heroes from the comic book industry and even Hollywood and get the chance to be the geeks that they are. Whether it is 1970 or 2015, one thing is certain: Comic Con is for the fans, by the fans.
Ken took the podium to give them one final statement.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to San Diego’s Golden State Comic Con.”
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