Jack Kirby would have been 98 years old today. Here's a photo I'll bet most of you have never seen.
It was taken in late 1969, not long after I met Jack and not long before he rocked the comic book world by quitting Marvel and signing on with DC. I can't think of a single current analogy in comics or in any medium which would be a comparable jolt. I wanted to write here something like, "It would be as if [Name] quit CBS and went to work for NBC" or "It would be as if [Name] quit the Yankees and went to work for the Dodgers." But no names I could plug into those sentences would equal the impact of the news back then.
This photo was taken either by me or my friend Steve Sherman. It was taken in a party area at the Brown Derby restaurant on Vine Street in Hollywood. That's right: It's Kirby at the Derby. Jack, Steve and I had all gotten involved in that year's Toys for Tots campaign for the U.S. Marine Corps — a most worthy cause that collected donations of toys and steered them to kids who might otherwise have been forgotten by Santa. Jack donated his artistry for that year's Toys for Tots poster.
The guys in the costumes were friends of a promoter we'd all gotten involved with. That's a real long story that is told in this long, long biography of Jack I'm writing that has been a long, long time in coming. No, I don't know when you'll be able to buy a copy but I'm finally able to finish it and am attempting to do so.
Suffice it to say this promoter guy was trying to prove to Marvel that he could make their characters a lot more famous than they already were. He'd convinced the Marines to put Marvel heroes on the poster and he'd gotten some local costume companies to make three costumes under the impression that they were donating to the charity. In truth, he intended to use the suits afterwards for other purposes that would benefit his own enterprises.
Someone out there will be interested in this: He persuaded Western Costume — the biggest company ever in that business and the leading supplier of wardrobe for TV and movies — to agree to make a Captain America costume. Then the folks at Western discovered that they already had a Captain America costume, perhaps the only one then in existence. The one they gave him was the one made for actor Dick Purcell in the 1944 Captain America movie serial. That's it above with ear holes cut into the head piece since Cap's ears didn't show in the serial. And no, I have no idea whatever became of it.
Anyway, Jack was at the Derby for a press event to kick off the Toys for Tots drive and when either Steve or I set up this photo, Jack immediately went into the above pose, explaining that you couldn't just stand passively when you were being photographed with Thor, Spider-Man and Captain America. No, you sure couldn't. So consider that a picture of four super-heroes. I'm not sure the one with the cigar wasn't the most incredible of the four.
That's about all I have to say about this photo but I have an unlimited number of things to say about Jack, starting with the fact that he was one of the nicest people I ever knew and easily the one who most deserved the label of "genius." Some folks didn't pick up on that right away because he talked like a guy in an old Warner Brothers movie about the mob and his mind careened from topic to topic with restless abandon.
This is hard to explain but being around him, I came to the conclusion that his brilliance had a lot to do with being able to make unusual associations. He would take two or more seemingly unrelated concepts or elements — things mere mortals like you and I would never connect — and he'd connect them and arrive at something very, very wonderful. You might never be able to discern the starting points; never be able to fathom how he linked A to B and wound up with a C that resembled neither…but he did.
He talked like that, too. I'd be chatting with Jack about, say, Richard Nixon. Nixon was a big topic for everyone in 1969 but more so for Jack who created many a super-villain using but one of Nixon's odd quirks as a starting point. Jack, like so many of us, was fascinated that such a twisted personality could somehow ascend to be President of the United States. (Thank Goodness that these days, no one that warped ever even becomes a serious contender for the job.)
So I'd be talking about Nixon with him and suddenly I'd be talking about cling peaches with him. Or Mount Kilimanjaro. Or staple guns or something…and I'd go, "Huh? What the hell was the segue and how did I miss it?" Sometimes, days or even years later — and I'm not kidding about the years — I would figure out how we got from Topic A to Topic B. Sometimes, not.
There's a quote from Stephen Sondheim that I like. He once said, "The nice thing about doing a crossword puzzle is that you know there's a solution." There was always a solution with Jack. Alas, those of us who live in one world at a time were sometimes unable to figure it out. Still, it would not shock me if at some point, some great Kirby Villain started life because Jack started musing about Nixon with a staple gun.
Those two qualities of Kirby's — the Cagneyesque way of speaking and the seeming disconnects in his speech — caused some people to miss how smart the guy was. One of many reasons he left Marvel shortly after this photo was taken is that so many important people there thought he was kind of demented and treated him as a useful idiot.
He told them that characters like the ones surrounding him in the picture would someday be billion-dollar properties appearing in major motion pictures and known the world over. As a vital contributor to the existence of those characters — in many cases, the main creative force — he wanted a piece of that action. This he was denied by men who sounded like Mr. Bumble registering shock that Oliver Twist wanted a smidgen more gruel. And being limited in the visionary department, they of course never dreamed the material would be as lucrative as Kirby said it would be…so they had to grab 100% of what there was while they could. Ergo, no cut for Kirby.
People ask me these days: "What would Jack have said if he was here to see Thor and Captain America and the Avengers and other characters he helped launch become super-heroes of the box office?" That's real easy to answer: He would have said, "I told you so."
He did. He really did. I can't swear he would have imagined Ant Man doing quite as well as he has but the others? Absolutely. He predicted it to me and to Steve and every single day to the wonderful Mrs. Kirby and to others. He predicted lots of things I doubted or at least questioned at the time but have lived to see come true.
I get accused at times of gushing too much about Jack. Fine. If there's anyone I've ever known who deserved a surplus of gushing, it was Jack Kirby. I still think at times I'm underestimating the guy. His work has endured and its popularity has grown to the point where I'm sure it will affect generations as yet unborn.
Tomorrow, I go out to Cal State Northridge in the Valley for the formal opening of a major exhibition of Jack Kirby artistry. You might assume I'm attending to pay tribute to a man who meant so much to me and you'd be right…
…but I'll confess to something. I also write about Jack and host panels about him and attend events about him for selfish reasons. Not only was Jack supremely creative but little flecks of that were contagious. When you were around him, you just plain felt more creative. It was not just me and it was not just people who became professional writers or artists or filmmakers or whatever. He treated everyone as an equal; as someone who at least potentially could make something wonderful. He stood on fertile ground and when you were with him, you did too.
I was seventeen when I met this man. I was already earning money as a writer but I had no particular confidence that the jobs I'd gotten weren't flukes and that I could continue in my chosen profession for the rest of my life. That I finally decided I probably could had a lot to do with being around Jack, seeing how easily it poured out of him and — and this was key — understanding how hard he labored to bring all those good ideas to fruition. Not only was his brain amazing but so was his work ethic. That was one of countless things I learned from him, not that I am always able to apply it.
I felt smarter and more creative around him. The stories and art he left us still have that impact on me as does just writing about him and thinking about him and nurturing my connection to him. I may even be a teensy bit smarter now than when I started writing this blog post but even if I'm not, I feel like I am and that counts for something.
I think I've told this story here before but after Jack died in 1994, I heard from lots of people who wanted to tell someone (anyone!) how much Jack inspired their lives. Most of that rightly went to his widow and life partner, a wonderful woman named Roz who made it possible for him to do what he did and protected him when no one else would or could…but I got a few of the letters and calls. I understood the ones from artists and writers and guys who made movies or wrote gaming software. I was a little surprised at first to hear from a spot welder who wanted me to know how Jack's work inspired him to become a better spot welder.
It wouldn't shock me to run into that spot welder at the gallery showing. I'll bet you everyone who goes out to Cal State Northridge to see that exhibit — like everyone who immerses themselves in the voluminous, perpetually in-print works of Jack Kirby — comes away from the experience a little smarter, a little more creative, a little more confident. If you ever got to meet Jack, you understand totally why that is. If you never had that honor, ask anyone who did. We all feel the same way.