Category Archives: Obituaries

As I mentioned, friends of the late Ken Krueger have put up a tribute website in his honor. There's not a lot on it yet so I'll remind you to go visit again in a week or two. You may be surprised to learn how much this person had to do with the Comic-Con in San Diego and with the lives and careers of people whose work you admire.

Obituary for Ken Krueger. Ken's many friends have been e-mailing one another, discussing various ways to tell the world how important he was to us and to the Comic-Con International. So you'll be hearing more about the guy…as well you should.

Another obit for Shel Dorf. This one's in the Guardian, which is published in London. And for some reason, it's by me.

Recently, much attention was given to the passing of Shel Dorf, who was described as the founder of the Comic-Con International. Not to take anything away from Shel but attention must be paid to another person who, even if he never claimed that title, was as vital to the creation of that convention as Shel or anyone else. Let me say this very clearly in a standalone sentence…

Ken Krueger was as much responsible for the creation of the Comic-Con International as anyone else, alive or dead.

Sadly, Ken is now in the latter category. He passed away last night from a heart attack…and I regret that I don't know his age, but I'm guessing somewhere in his eighties. Ken had been around long enough to have attended the very first science-fiction convention in 1939 and to be a member of the exalted "First Fandom."

His experience with s-f conventions was one of many things he brought to the nascent Comic-Con when he signed on in 1970 as its first chairperson. Another was his lifelong love of comics and fantasy. Professionally, Ken operated a string of bookstores throughout this life and also dabbled in distribution and publishing. As a publisher, he gave many talented artists their first in-print experience, including Dave Stevens, Scott Shaw!, Greg Bear and Jim Valentino. (He was the Best Man at Valentino's wedding and an obvious father figure to Jim and others who came up through the San Diego fan community.)

But perhaps his greatest contribution to the early cons in San Diego was that he was the Grown-Up. The majority of those on the original convention committee were kids in need of adult supervision…someone with some experience in handling business matters. Most were too young to even sign the hotel contract so Shel Dorf and Ken did that. At the early cons, he was the go-to guy for any problem, any crisis, any decision. He didn't get or seek the attention for all he did but believe me: He did a lot. And then, as he saw others rising to the responsibilities, he quietly stepped aside and became, for the most part, a happy attendee.

As health problems permitted, he attended the con. He was there this past July for the 40th anniversary celebration…in a wheelchair but, damn it, he was there. We had a nice conversation, mainly about how much the con had grown. Ken was like a proud parent, and at the same time modest about how much he'd contributed.

I have a story about Ken that I'll post here later because I want to get this up on the web. Ken never got the credit he deserved in life. Maybe we can get him some now…better late than never.

Ah! Jeffrey Trexler explains to me how it is that the photo of Shel Dorf accompanying his New York Times obit sports a copyright for DC Comics even though the photo contains no DC properties. I've been looking at the online obit. The one in the print newspaper — apparently, they still have those — has two photos, the other being a shot of Himon, a character Jack Kirby based on Shel and inserted into an issue of the Mister Miracle comic. That panel should display a DC copyright since it is a DC comic book. For the online obit, they omitted one photo but kept the caption that went with both photos. Thanks, Jeff. I knew there was an explanation.

The great comedy writer David Lloyd has left us. It is my loss (and the reason I can't write much here about him) that in my entire life in the TV business, I probably spent less than three minutes in the company of David Lloyd. It was in the office over at Cheers and all I really remember is that he walked in and you knew that everyone in the room loved and respected the guy. Fortunately, Ken Levine knew him well enough to write the kind of piece that should be written…so I'll just add that he was a great writer and I think he wrote even better scripts than "Chuckles Bites the Dust." That is meant only as a compliment.

Obit for Shel Dorf in the New York Times. I don't understand why the accompanying photo has a copyright line for DC Comics, either.

Over the next few days, I'm going to be linking to several online remembrances of the late Shel Dorf, founder of the Comic-Con International in San Diego. Here's one written for the L.A. Times by someone who considered himself a good friend of Shel's.

I should write something here about J. Nicholas Counter III, who passed away the other day at the age of 69. Here's the New York Times obit and here's a piece I wrote about him here some time ago. Basically, Mr. Counter represented the interests of the movie and TV studios in most recent instances when there was a labor negotiation and/or strike with the Screen Actors Guild, the Directors Guild, the Writers Guild or several other unions or guilds.

If we were writing a screenplay about a guy who did that, could we think of a better name for him than Nick Counter? I know if we were casting the role, we couldn't have done better than the actual man.

Not long ago, I had an ugly exchange with a lawyer who was attempting to screw over some friends of mine on a deal. He insulted me so I insulted him back. He retaliated with the old line about how he was just doing his job…a rationale that I don't think excuses much (if any) one does in this world. I mean, a Mafia hit man is "just doing his job" and that doesn't absolve him of a smidgen of moral responsibility. I also don't buy that if something is arguably legal — or even inarguably — it's ethical. Half the time a person says, "Well, someone's gotta do this," I think, "No, no one has to do that" or that you still can think ill of the person who wants to do it.

If I'd had ten more seconds to think of a reply that day, I probably wouldn't have used a Nazi reference since those are cheap and obvious and if someone's not actually killing Jews, never quite comparable. But what I said to Mr. "Just doing my job" was "You know, I've had hundreds of jobs in my life. I never had one I had to justify by quoting Adolf Eichmann." I later apologized for the low blow…but you know, I didn't draw any equivalence between his actions and actual genocide. I just pointed out that in this world, one is responsible for one's deeds and actions. There's something wrong with any position where you seemingly surrender moral culpability to someone else.

I could never do what Nick Counter did for a living. I certainly couldn't come home from work and proudly tell my family and friends, "Well, I cost 100,000 people their health insurance today so the corporate CEOs can get bigger bonuses!" It's bad enough I sometimes have to say, "Just finished another issue of Groo!" But the former is not an inaccurate summary of Mr. Counter's job description. I don't think he even served the interests of the companies he ostensibly represented, at least not directly. He served their current officers and usually, but not always, that coincided with what was best for the corporations at the table.

The two times I chatted with him, Counter seemed like a decent-enough fellow and I'm sure his occupation, which was not unlike herding rabid feral cats, was difficult. I'm also sure someone else in that position might have done a lot more damage to parties on all sides. If forced to defend it, I expect he'd have said something like, "Hey, someone's gotta do it [and in this case, someone probably does] and I could name a dozen guys who'd be nastier, more ruthless, more destructive, etc." All of that would be true.

But I always felt a little bothered by the fact that he did seem like a nice guy; that he actually perceived the pain his employers often caused and the sometimes-needless (as in, bad for them as well as labor) stances they took. A man like that may be preferable to one who'll just see it as all-out war and never mind the casualties, but he's more difficult to understand and maybe, when necessary, to forgive. I guess the nicest thing I can say here is that at some point in the future, I'm sure we'll have one of those all-out warriors in his place and we'll long for the days of J. Nicholas Counter III.

May he rest in peace…and I sure hope St. Peter is not locked in negotiations with the man.

This embed may not work so if it doesn't, try going to this page. It's the website of a San Diego TV station with coverage of Shel Dorf's passing and his funeral. You may have to watch a brief commercial…

And here's the obit in the Los Angeles Times. I spoke today to the New York Times which has already run a brief item and will have a formal obituary tomorrow.

I feel like I should write something more about Shel but I may take a few days to decide what it is I want to say. Shel was a complex guy, and I feel that while all these obits and tributes are accurate, even mine and the ones that quote me aren't saying all that I think should be said about the man. (And by the way, I knew Shel for 40 years and never heard anyone except his parents refer to him as Sheldon Dorf. I know it's in the style guide at some news organizations but it's a silly rule. When Dick Van Dyke leaves us, are they going to report the death of Richard Van Dyke?)

One point I forgot to mention in my piece and which I've included in all the interviews I've given is that it isn't just the comic book community that owes a debt to Shel. It's the city of San Diego, as well. You'd think that the world's largest comic convention would be established in New York or Chicago or Los Angeles. Why is it in San Diego? Because Shel Dorf was in San Diego.

And because the con was in San Diego, San Diego changed for the better. San Diego in 1970 was not the kind of town that attracted national conventions. It attracted some tourists because of the zoo and climate. It attracted a lot of sailors on shore leave because of the Naval Stations. But when, for example, the major political parties were considering where to gather to nominate their presidential candidates, San Diego was not even in the running. It didn't have the facilities or the hotels. Now, it has enough of both to lure major conventions and to warrant the building of huge Hiltons and Marriotts. The convention trade has meant a lot of urban renewal to San Diego and the Comic-Con was a major catalyst and inspiration.

So a city was transformed and in many ways reborn…and all because Shel's parents moved there for their retirements and Shel followed. If Ma and Pa Dorf had settled down in Albuquerque, we'd all probably be trekking to Albuquerque each year for the big Comic-Con. I'm glad they went to San Diego. You know what the temperature is like in Albuquerque in July?

I didn't know the guy but I wanted to note the passing of famed Jerry Lewis impersonator Sammy Petrillo, who died yesterday at the age of 75. As a kid, back when Lewis was teamed with Dean Martin, Petrillo so resembled Jerry that his first real job in show business was playing Jerry's baby son on the Colgate Comedy Hour. Thereafter, Lewis had Petrillo signed for a time to a personal contract that some have claimed was just to keep the look-alike off the market.

Eventually, Petrillo broke free of Jerry and went off with a succession of different partners, most of whom could mimic Dino. The main one was Duke Mitchell and in 1952, Mitchell and Petrillo replicated Dean and Jerry when they starred in a cinema classic…Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla. It was kind of the low point in Mr. Lugosi's career and the high point in Mr. Petrillo's.

A few years after that, the Mitchell-Petrillo team split up. They claimed their club act wasn't getting bookings because proprietors were afraid of pissing off Jerry. In any case, Sammy drifted through an array of small parts in small films…and I really don't know what else he did. I don't know if anyone does. We only know he looked and sounded amazingly like Jerry Lewis in this film…

Nothing to add, no anecdotes. Just wanted to say I always liked her.

Yesterday afternoon, I attended a memorial service for a wonderful creature named Hamilton Camp who passed away recently. The speeches, turnout and a nice clip montage (edited by Vince Waldron) reminded us all of how many things Hamilton did well. He was an actor, a singer, a composer, an acting teacher, a voiceover specialist, et cetera, et cetera…

Just the singing part of his life got him into several Halls of Fame. I have a friend who, once a year, hosts a party at his home for some folk-singing organization. A couple hundred members, amateur and professional, descend on his place for a big Pot Luck supper and after that's done with, most of them haul out guitars and entertain each other, as well as any folks like me who are in attendance. I missed this year's and wish I'd been there because Hamilton was an invited guest. My friend told me that when Mr. Camp walked in, it was like someone was hosting a rock 'n' roll party and Elvis put in an appearance. Hamilton was mobbed by people telling him that they'd taken up folk singing because of the work of Gibson and Camp, the folk-singing duo that he had with Bob Gibson in the sixties. And then everyone was eager to play for him and to get some words of approval from The Master. My friend said that Hamilton was genuinely amazed and moved by the reception.

This was about three weeks before he died.

If he was somehow able to listen in on the tributes yesterday afternoon at the Improv in Hollywood, he has a further idea of how much he meant to so many. The place was packed with most of the legends of the world of improv comedy. The speakers included Paul Sills, Chuck McCann, Richard Benjamin and Paula Prentiss, Howard Hesseman, Alan Myerson, Mina Kolb, Carl Gottlieb, Paul Willson, Larry Hankin and many more. Some wonderful stories there. Some wonderful memories of Hamilton.

Now, I probably shouldn't write what follows because it may offend some folks, but I think it would offend me more if I didn't. The memorial for Hamilton ran over three hours, close to three and a half. If you'd cut out all the self-promotion and rambling tales that had little to do with the dead guy, it would have been a terrific ninety minutes.

I go to a fair number of memorial services. There's always at least one speaker who seizes on the opportunity of a microphone and a semi-captive audience. Sometimes, they talk endlessly about themselves and drop in token mentions of the departed. Other times, they actually mention the deceased but it's primarily to say how much the deceased loved them and their work, how much they did for the deceased…even how much their upcoming projects will be impacted by the loss of the deceased. There were several this afternoon and at two or three points, I had to resist the urge to leap to my feet and shout, "It's not about you!"

Perhaps this bugs me more than it should…but collectively, these people have made some memorial services quite uncomfortable for those who wish to honor the departed and not walk out on his wake. You'd like to stay 'til the end and perhaps say something to the family…but the long, self-serving speeches make that impossible. I went to one memorial service last year where a gent who barely knew the deceased went on and on, mostly about his own life and career, making the afternoon so long that many attendees had to leave in mid-memorial. Several of those who followed him had personal, real things to say about the fellow who'd died…and by the time they reached the rostrum, they felt the room was growing restless and that they had to rush their remarks. It was especially sad because the deceased's son and widow were the final speakers and when they finally got up there, half the audience had gone and those of us who toughed it out were squirming in our seats.

Hamilton Camp would have been deeply moved by about 85% of what was said yesterday in remembrance of him. About the balance, I suspect he'd have yelled what I almost yelled. One of the things that made him so exceptional as a performer was his impeccable sense of timing. He never bored you and his songs always had something appropriate to say. I wish a couple of his acquaintances had learned more from him than they apparently did.

Sorry to hear that actress Wendie Jo Sperber has lost her battle with cancer at age 47. Here's an obit which mentions a lot of the things she did. There was a period there when she was appearing in one movie or TV show after another, and turning down five offers for every one she squeezed into her schedule. She was very good in every one of them.

Unmentioned in most obits is a musical play/revue called A-5-6-7-8, which is where I first saw and met Wendie Jo. It ran for a year or two at the Zephyr Theater on Melrose in West Hollywood around 1977. Almost plotless, its slim storyline was an excuse for about a dozen talented performers to sing and dance showtunes and novelty songs. Since I knew one of the talented ladies in it, I wound up seeing it a half-dozen times and hanging out with the cast after many a performance. Wendie Jo, who was barely out of her teens, was among the players and she managed to stop the show almost every night with an intense, emotional rendition of "Pachalafaka," a funny tune you may remember from when Soupy Sales used to perform it. She also stole the spotlight in a bump-and-grind version of "Welcome to Holiday Inn" (from the Broadway show, Seesaw) performed by the female cast members.

The thing I remember most about Wendie Jo is that everyone who came to the Zephyr then knew they were seeing the dawning of a great career. The revue was unabashedly intended to showcase its performers, and every casting director in town dropped by to case the talent. Every one of them immediately wanted to put Wendie Jo in something and there was one night when she actually seemed stressed, trying to decide among several offers for her screen debut. She thought they were all bad roles that didn't suit her and, while she knew every actress does some of those, she was hoping to start with something "a little special." Few actors who've never been hired to appear before a camera will turn down a chance to change that…but Wendie Jo decided it was a bad omen to go in and do something that you knew was wrong. So she passed on those offers and a week or so later, she got one of the leads in I Wanna Hold Your Hand, a role that couldn't have been better suited to her. No one who knew her then was surprised at all the work she got after that. No one who knew her ever is unaffected by the news today.