Rollcall for all those whos parents threw their books out.

[Proverbs22_2]

Here's a better story.

 

I've been collecting since 1975. My parents were always saying "its just a phase, you'll grow out of it." Clearly, I didn't.

 

So FINALLY, it dawns on my mother that old comics are worth something. My mother is a flea market hound, so she starts to buy comics for me at flea markets. She of course now buys everything, which follows Sturgeons Law of 90% of everything being junk.

 

So I tell her "Mom, this is great, but you need to stop buying everything you see. Only buy comics with a COVER price of 30 cents or less." She says OK, will do.

 

Fast forward.

 

I get an envelope from my mom yesterday.

 

Open it up.

 

Pictures of my kids with Papa. Newspaper clippings from the hometown paper (Mom's big on newspaper clippings from the hometown paper). And four comics she bought at a flea market for $1 each. They were all pretty beat up, G/G+ or so.

 

Amazing Adult Fantasy 14

Tales of Suspense 10

Fantastic Four 6

Amazing Spider-Man 2

 

Mom's getting a big dinner next week after the Chicago show.

 

Bet when the kid finds out what his mom did with his comics, he's gonna be a bit upset.

 

And, in your case Donut, it's nice to have a mom that understands. Congratulations.

 

When I had my retail store, back in the late 80's-early 90's, my blanket statement was this:

 

"Comics wouldn't be worth what they are today, were it not for Wars & Mothers..."

 

HOW many times have you heard the "Man! I HAD that #1 Spider-Man, but my Mom trashed my stuff when I was in the Army", story? LOADS, I'll bet...

 

-Joe

If NOBODIES MOM threw away their comics, then EVERYONE would still have them, with the increased supply resulting in lower demand, and lower prices.

[Bugaboo-migration]

The first time the phone rang, the cat was sleeping underneath it, it woke up with a start, bumped its head in the shelf above, and P***ED all over the comics below!!

That's one of the funniest frigging things I've ever read in here.

[dad-migration]

It was 1962, and I was 8 years old. I had a stack of comics in

the den underneath the book shelves that was about 6 inches

high. There was probably a FF #1 in it....I'm not sure.

 

One day, I went down to my treasured comic hoard and

found it was missing. I started sobbing hysterically.

Everyone else in the family came around, and finally

one of my parents admitted throwing the books out

because he/she was "cleaning up down here".

 

The overall reaction was astonishment that anyone

would care so much about a bunch of comic books.

 

Ever since that day, no one has ever laid a finger on my

books again. And I still have every one I ever bought.

 

[PovertyRow]

Fun idea. The only thing my folks threw out were my oldest brother's books - mainly DC War and EC horror. I found and was hypnotized by the EC horror, alhtough I was maybe 5 years old.

 

Only thing thrown out of MINE was an original 1-sheet Lon Chaney Sr. Hunchbacl Of Notre Dame movie poster, which I claimed for myself without even knowing what it was - just loved it. Nowadays it is a pretty pricey piece of paper.

[ghoulaid]

After reading all these horror stories of comics being thrown out, I'm very thankful that mine never were! Baseball cards are a different story (late 50's, early 60's - trashed)

[DvdSkelton-migration]

Awesome posts from all... very entertaining thread.

 

My mom never touched my room. I have only myself to blame.

 

I had all the early Spideys - ASM #1 - 25. When I was 8 years old, I decided to cut them all up and make a big poster of Spidey fighting Batman (no idea on the Batman numbers but this was about 1967-68). Nevertheless, after I got done ruining my comics and realized I would never be able to read them again ... I had a nice long cry... in fact ... just thinking about it again... geez... excuse me... don't look... pass me a tissue.

[sborock]

My parents never threw out my comics, they both read comics as kids. My dad would always bring me home comics on his way home from work, he even brought home Steranko's History of Comics for me, I had never seen covers so cool! My mother says to this day that I was a complete slob about everything! My room would be a complete mess, but I was neurotic about the comics and they were always stacked nice and neat, she could never throw them out.

 

The real crazy story:

 

My dad picks up my Overstreet Price guide when I am twelve and tells me he has all these Golden Age comics. I figure he is pulling my leg. He tells me he has Batman #1, Superman #1 and many others, he is blown away by what the OSPG says these things are now worth. He calls his mother in Brooklyn and says we are coming over, I am so excited, I can't wait to see all these GA books. We drive from Merrick, Long Island (hated that place) to Brooklyn. We finally get to my grandparents house(When you are a kid, that 45 minute drive seems like forever!), go to the basement, open this door to a small room with a musty smell, and there on shelves is all of my dads and his brothers stuff from when they were kids! We find my dads old baseball glove, board games, college jacket(which I still have today, very worn), baseball cards, cartoons he drew in high school, fencing foils and mask, but NO COMICS! We look for what seemed to me to be forever, but was probably only fifteen minutes and dad finally asks his mom about the comics. She says she gave them to the kids from the block. I was crushed and my dad saw the next few house payments fly away. That drive home to Long Island was very long and depressing..............

[underthebigw]

Okay, Here's the story from my father. He was a big comic collector back in the day (late 40's-early to mid-50's). He kept his comics stacked flat on the last two shelves of a bookcase in his mom's apartment. The cat slept on the shelf just under the top of the bookcase (above the comics). They finally get a telephone, which they put on the top of the bookcase. The first time the phone rang, the cat was sleeping underneath it, it woke up with a start, bumped its head in the shelf above, and P***ED all over the comics below!! My dad begged his mom to just throw out the ones that were on top, but she refused and chucked the whole batch! My dad never recovered and never really collected again.

 

It must have really traumatized him because through all the years of my buying comics when I was living at home, he never told me that story, I only just heard it from him a couple of years ago.

 

As for my own story, I sold my entire collection when I was starting law school to an old employer of mine (10+ years ago). I just recently started to collect again, and I asked him about my collection; he told me the comics have sat untouched in the long boxes I gave to him and that I could have my collection back for what he paid for it ten years ago! ----- Sometimes They Come Back!

 

Man, these are all GREAT stories. I haven't laughed this much over a thread in a long time.

 

Here's my personal bit of tragedy. No one ever threw out my books and my parents, despite an attempt or two to put them in a damp basement, would never have touched them. Here's where it gets traumatic. I come from family of junk collectors. Not by profession, but by passion. I've always had this theory that my grandfather (from Italy), father, and uncles all had an intense appreciation of anything regarding American pop culture. Somehow, it stood for everything they saw as good with the US. Combine this with the fact that that my grandparents owned a deli in Mt. Vernon, NY that also sold comics and baseball cards, and you had three brothers spanning the years from 1935-1960 who collected everything, often in multiples in order to prevent disputes over ownership. And-they kept it ALL. Just before I was born, my grandfather passed away and, having grown sons who were out of the house, my grandmother decided to sell the business. However, they kept ownership of the building, which they all used to live in. Needless to say, all of the good stuff stayed upstairs in the building which, sure enough, the new owners managed to burn down in a matter of weeks. Some Pepsi thermometers, a rare Coke clock, some store signs, Nehi glasses, etc. made it out. Little else did.

 

The implications of this never really struck home until one Sat. when I was probably 13. On the way home from bowling, we coerced my dad into stopping at the local newstand so we could pick up our books. After giving us grief for spending our money, we went in. My dad beat us to the register, however, and when I caught up with him, I couldn't believe he was shelling out a buck-fifty (I think) for the DC treasury featuring All-Star 3. The conversation went something like this:

"What the hell are you doing?" (and I never swore in front of him)

"I'm buying this"

"Why?"

"Cause I used to have it. Had all the Justice Society's"

 

At that point, it hit me. We went back home and looked at Jules Fieffers Great Comic Book Heroes and I was shocked that my dad knew each story of the top of his head (except for the Spirit reprint). For weeks, I just lamented the fact that my birthright had been destroyed and I should've have the baddest-[!@#%^&^] collection of any of my friends.