My Stan Lee Moment

The first thing you should know is that I'm DC and not Marvel. I felt I should get that out there for those of you who still see that distinction.

In 2010, that's all kind of gone by the wayside, what with independent companies like Dark Horse, Image and all the rest. Add to that artists and writers switching back and forth between companies and the whole self-publishing thing. DC or Marvel? It's just not that important anymore.

But when this event that I'm going to describe occurred—around 1976—you were pretty much DC or Marvel and that was it. In future posts, I plan to go into all the reasons why I chose to be DC back then, but suffice it to say, my primary interest were comics published by DC Comics and not Marvel.

It was at the second comic book convention that I ever attended, Inconjunction in Indianapolis, that I had my Stan Lee moment.

I was a ninth grader in junior high and was attending with Chris, who would become my best friend in high school. He wasn't a comic book fan, but his little brother was. His brother didn't come with us, but he had asked Chris to pick up some Marvel books for him.

When we got to the convention, we shopped for comics, looked around and discovered that the guest of honor was Stan Lee. In the previous decade, Lee had helped create Spider-Man, the Fantastic Four and the whole line of Marvel heroes. I may have been a DC, but I recognized that Lee was a superstar in the backwater world of comic books. The previous Christmas I had even received one of his Marvel histories as a gift, "Son of Origins of Marvel Comics." I remember being pretty impressed that such a luminary was at a podunk convention in a suburban Indy hotel. So, when it was announced that Lee was going to speak, Chris and I went to listen.

I remember nothing about the speech, but I do remember it took place near the hotel pool. It was a sunny day and the audience filled the patio chairs next to the pool. Lee talked for a bit, fielded questions and that was it.

Back in the dealer room, Chris and I made one more pass until we discovered that Lee was at a table in the hallway signing autographs. I helped Chris pick out an old Iron Man comic for Lee to sign for his brother. I looked in my bag, which was filled with DCs—Lee's competitor—so I figured for form's sake I should buy a Marvel comic.

At the table near the end of the autograph line, I flipped through a stack of Marvels. By the mid-70s, Lee wasn't really involved in the day-to-day of writing or editing at Marvel, even though every title in the line contained the intro: "Stan Lee Presents…". So picking out a book cheaply that Lee actually might have had a hand in presented a momentary challenge.

Then I came across a book I recognized: Daredevil #47. The story in the book was called "Brother, Take My Hand!" and concerned Daredevil's encounter with a blind Vietnam vet. I had just read the story in "Son of Origins of Marvel Comics" and thought it was quite moving. That particular copy was probably in VG to fine condition and only a couple of bucks.

[Daredevil 47 is copyright 1969 by Marvel Comics. To read online, go here.]

As the line got shorter, we watched the other fans handing Lee their books, which he'd sign and then he'd smile and nod. The guy in front of us had a stack of about 50 books. For a moment, it seemed like we'd be there for hours waiting for Lee to finish signing that stack, but he told the guy that he was going to have to take all the books out of their bags before he could sign them.

Chris handed Lee his Iron Man. Lee signed it and handed it back without comment. I handed him the Daredevil. He looked at it and paused.

"You know," he said, cocking his head and glancing up at me, "I really liked this story. It's one of my favorites."

"Yeah," I said. "You put it in 'Son of Origins.'"

Lee thought for a moment. "You're right." He took his marker, signed the book and handed it back to me smiling.

And that was it. My moment with Stan Lee.

There's not much to it, I know, and it probably would've meant more to me if I were a Marvel, instead of a DC. But it's something I think about every once in a while and smile.