Superman #75 And My Dad

If you were reading comic books back in the early 90s, you know the hype that surrounded the Death of Superman. It was unmistakable. It was everywhere. You couldn’t turn the tv on without hearing about it. In fact, it was so big, that when the issue dropped, my dad stopped at the LCS and picked up a copy for myself AND one for my older brother. Now this was HUGE. My dad was never big on comic books. He thought kids should be outside throwing a ball or exploring the woods. To some extent, I can agree with that. But my older brother and I were a lot more cerebral than our dad. Not sure how. We got his caring personality but not his sporting abilities — this was a guy who played varsity football and took a few high school trips in the late 60s to the Swiss Alps to ski on what was essentially wooden planks. My brother and I both sucked at baseball, didn’t have a football team and were overall uncoordinated. Where my dad got booted from his private school for skipping classes, smoking & tom foolery, both my older brother and I graduated in the top 10 of our classes.

So when my dad brought us both home copies of Superman #75, it was a watershed moment in our lives. Our dad has always supported us in our endeavors, but at that moment, it felt like it all finally clicked for us. This ones for my dad. Thanks dad**.

** Apologies for being two days late for Father’s Day.

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