I’m the first person to confess that this “panorama” is pretty bad. The taking pics are me just standing there and trying to hold still. No tripod [–it is entirely possible that this experience compelled to get a “monopod” which is, as you may presume a single legged camera support gadget—MonoBrow]. This may have been fairly sensitive film but this was a nice, kind’a old-fashioned banquet facility—read: dimly lit. You will see later that the few spotlights here and there really washed the rest of the image right out.

Up top, extreme top and right is—none other than that hirsute man, Marshal Rogers! He lucked out. On the left side, one can just make out Virginia and John Romita sitting right in front of a service door complete with standing service person. I think I’ve spotted Jim Shooter and Rick Marschall, but without arrows and circled areas, describing where would be… slow going…

Peter Ledger and presumably where I was sitting is fairly easy to spot—There’s a foreground gent in a tan jacket sitting in front of a table with several empty chairs. That was “our” table—note kid, the literal Kids’ Table! That’s Peter’s back.

Here we go, recorded forever—at image right: Peter’s utter delight as clear as day. That kid wisely took off (The Viennese Pastry Cart was hours away!).

Rick Marschall was way over there, far from where we were. I hear they got the veal; we got the chicken. Which was fine, really. (Rick is dead center; he looks like he’s trying to deflect attention from slipping some silverware into his trouser pocket.)

Now, I’m not so sure why I chose these “sniper-vision” long-lens shots but here we are! Perhaps I felt I didn’t know Jim (again, dead center) as well as I would come to over the next few years. Or I was in mortal terror of antagonizing The Big Boss. Not sure.

In retrospect, I was proud I knew who this fairly distinctive fellow was on sight. George Clayton Johnson (1929-2015). Back then, to me, it seemed odd that a major science fiction author would be anywhere a “Comic Convention.” But there he was! (Indeed so was Larry Niven!) Anyone out there would know Mr. Johnson’s work—he wrote the book that became the movie: Logan’s Run. (Co-authored alongside  William Nolan. Somewhat different than the movie version—I heartily suggest you read it.) He also wrote the novel that inspired Ocean’s 11, back when it was the Rat Pack version. Finally, he wrote the script for the very first episode to hit the airwaves of Star Trek (The Man Trap).

My eyes fairly started from my head when this mighty cosplayer hove into view. Apparently George Clayton Johnson is made of sterner stuff… [Personal note—as I have aged and absorbed the comic wisdom presented to me by my betters—I have seen all manner of people, a cosplayer here in particular, as members of my tribe. This fellow made his own costume out of old bedsheets and some asbestos stage curtain tassles—it is of no known character, but it is his. And that’s a wonderful thing. At more modern SDCC events, I have seen the range of be-suited men wearing dark glasses to a 9-foot tall walking robot made out of cardboard with a kid on board—all of it gets me kind’a worked up because of the love and blended talents involved. Sniveliot]

Now for some speech-making. Jack Kirby himself is telling us like it is. Alas, I never spotted Mr. Kirby again, so either he was waved off of the main course or he had some pressing business elsewhere.

John Romita Sr. – this soft-spoken giant of the industry told us the secret. I forget it now.

Everybody who was awarded a Comic Con special recognition award—The Inkpot Award.

Alas, I do not know everyone in this line-up. I do know Marshal Rogers at left and next to him, I very well know science fiction great, Larry Niven, an idol of mine. [Him I did meet as he tried to leave. He had two Inkpots and when I accosted him in an effort to shake his hand, I abruptly grabbed one out of his hand to do so and proclaimed, “I am your biggest fan.” Since I stood 6’-3” and grind the scales at 200lbs, it was fairly true that evening. –Blushing Brown]

The other person I know relatively well, but in the somewhat distant future, is the bearded kid second from right. Craig Anderson—who was accepting an Inkpot for his dad, Brad “Marmaduke” Anderson—would go on to become a Marvel Editor!

The two heads blindingly illuminated (and me and Photoshop tried—when slide film is overexposed, there is nothing there) are Steve Engelhart (wrote all over the place, but mostly has that descriptive word “definitive” attached to the characters) and Len Wein (1948-2017) another one of those legendary writer people.

Then to Len’s image-right, the two guys in the white pants are John Romita and Jack Kirby. Half-blindingly illuminated Fantasy Illustrator Kelly Freas and that fabulous head of white hair is Mort “Beetle Bailey” Walker. Finally, I believe that fellow at the end is among the founding fathers of Golden Age Science Fiction, Fred Pohl (1919-2013).

This San Diego Comic Con was a less hectic cross section of high and low culture (I’ll let you sort out which is which!). Much more approachable than what has come to be.

In the meantime, the chicken dinner that I wolfed down was delish—some things never change, like the needs of a freelancer!

Next to come: Part 7: The last day, packing up, long faces and echoing spaces—we take our parting!