It's one of those sad, double-obit days here. The gent above left is Shel Dorf. He is seen, as he so often was, in the company of a great comic creator — in this case, Burne Hogarth, who drew the Tarzan newspaper strip for years. Shel knew every major comic creator and dedicated much of his life to promoting their greatness and saluting their work. That's the first thing you oughta know about Shel; that he was the supreme fan of comics, especially of newspaper comic strips.
The second thing, of course, is that he was a Founder of the entity we now know as the Comic-Con International in San Diego. It was called by other titles during its early years…and one of its nicknames was "DorfCon" because Shel was so much a presence at it. There has been a tendency, which I suspect will continue in the inevitable obituaries, to give him all the credit, like he single-handedly threw the first con and most that followed. That is wrong to the extent that it deprives others of their place in that history. But it is not wrong to say that without Shel, there would have been no San Diego Con by any name.
One place you can read about Shel is a tribute site that was recently erected by several of the folks who deserve kudos for starting that con. I'm sure the site will have much more to say about him in the coming days.
Shel was born in Detroit, Michigan on July 5, 1933. He fell in love with comics at an early age and began his massive scrapbook project, clipping his favorite strips from the newspaper and pasting them into keepsake volumes. The love of comics led him to study art at Cass Technical High School and the Chicago Art Institute, and he made many unsuccessful attempts throughout his career to sell his own strip or to work in the field. The closest he came — and it was, along with the con, the pride of his life — was that Milton Caniff hired him to letter the Steve Canyon strip for the last fourteen years of its existence.
He got that job because he'd become a good friend of Caniff's…close enough that the legendary artist honored Shel by making him into a character. It was a well-meaning football player named "Thud Shelley" who appeared a few times in the Canyon strip. Jack Kirby also made Shel into a character…a father figure named Himon who appeared in Mister Miracle. Shel knew so many great cartoonists that he probably inspired other characters, as well. It seemed just so appropriate for Shel to be a part of comics because comics were so much a part of Shel.
It was his friendship with so many heroes that led him to help put on the Detroit Triple Fan-Fairs in the sixties and then, when he moved to San Diego, to rally fans there to start something similar. I met him in late 1969 or maybe early 1970, shortly before a one-day con that he organized as a kind of "dry run" for the larger convention he hoped to stage. He was enthusiastic. He was optimistic. He was passionate, not just about the convention but about the wonders that could occur just by assembling so many talented creators and fans in the same building. As it turned out, he was right.
Shel was the President and/or Chairman (his titles varied) of the con for many years. There's a long, uncomfortable story of how he came to be estranged from the organization. Many of us witnessed it (and tried to help) but it was one of those problems that just could not be solved, at least to his satisfaction. This isn't the place for a detailed account so I'll just say the following. Shel's zeal helped build the con but at some point, those doing the actual hands-on work of running it began to have problems with him. Fights erupted. The convention became too big, in both a practical and legal sense, to be run the way he wanted to run it. He was offered roles and jobs but none he liked, and he chose instead to stop participating and attending. I thought it was a mistake on his part but it was also his choice to make.
I believe the last Comic-Con he attended was in 2001. Russell Myers, who draws Broom-Hilda, was a Guest of Honor and Shel wanted to see him. (One of the lesser but constant areas of disagreement Shel had with the management of the convention was his feeling that more attention should be paid to newspaper strips.) Shel was having trouble walking, which in that convention hall is no small complication, but he made it in to hear me interview Russell and he asked some good questions from the audience. Later, I found him parked behind a friend's table in the main hall, physically unable to get around and see much of the con he'd founded, saving his strength up for the arduous trek out of the place. Several people had offered to arrange a wheelchair — there were several available, complete with volunteers to push them — but Shel declined. I don't think he wanted to see much more of the convention and he definitely didn't want the convention to see him in a wheelchair.
Soon after that, he became reclusive and eventually housebound. Until the last year or so, we spoke every few months on the phone, not really about anything. Either he'd call me just to chat or he'd send me some small gift — usually a photo or keepsake he thought would interest me about the early days of the con — and I'd phone to thank him. He did insist he was not unhappy that he had severed all ties with the convention or that he had wound up selling off (or donating to universities) his wonderful, extensive collection of comic strips and memorabilia. I couldn't tell if he really felt that way or if he just wanted me to think he really felt that way…so I just decided it was better for both of us if I believed he really felt that way.
The last year or so of his life was spent in a hospital where he was kept technically alive on a bank of machines. This is also not the place for me to rail against that definition of "life" but one of these days, I may write something. I know his family — particularly, his brother Michael who went way beyond the call of sibling duty — meant well, and I wish them no discomfort. But I visited Shel in that hospital right after the con this past year and it was one of the saddest moments I can recall.
The convention is, of course, his legacy but it goes deeper than that. Shel was a big booster of new talent. He wanted very much to be in comics himself and it was almost like he said, "If I can't make it, I'll do everything I can to help everyone else." He encouraged and aided a number of young writers and artists who went on to become major talents, and of course the very existence of that convention has made hundreds, perhaps thousands of careers not only in comics but in allied fields, as well. Those of us who care about comics are forever in his debt.