I’ve put this off because it’s so hard. JIM SHOOTER passed away the day before yesterday and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I worked with him on SUPERBOY AND THE LEGION OF SUPERHEROES back in the ‘70s, an association that was not always pleasant for either of us, but later we became friends. And that’s the best part.

When I began working on SUPERBOY AND THE LEGION OF SUPERHEROES, I was teamed with Cary Bates who had a cinematic style of visual storytelling. He gave you all the important stuff that had to go into a panel and even called out camera angles, which helped on a nightmare book like LSH where there could be as many as a dozen characters in one panel.

Then came the word: Shooter’s coming back!

I confess, I had no idea who Shooter was, but I soon learned that he had started writing Legion stories in ADVENTURE COMICS featuring SUPERBOY and the LEGION OF SUPERHEROES when he was just 13 years old! HOLY CRAP!

When Jim returned to writing the LEGION in 1975, having more or less “retired” in 1969 after he graduated high school (Slacker!), we began a somewhat turbulent Writer/artist relationship. Jim’s tendency to over-write was the opposite of experiences I had had with Cary Bates and Denny O’Neil where they left enough to the artist to interpret so as to make it more of a collaborative effort. Jim micro-managed everything to the point of including layouts and sketches of bits of equipment that had almost nothing to do with the story. Scripts under Cary and Denny were usually one page per story page—Jim’s ran 60-90 pages. Not that they were bad, just so different. It was like Dad got remarried and one day there was a strange lady in the kitchen—she was nice enough, but her cooking wasn’t like Mom’s.

After we parted company, we continued to see each other over the years on the convention circuit, where—once creative differences were put aside–we finally became friends. The real kind. The gypsy life has a way of bringing folks together just often enough that you look forward to those mini-reunions and can relax and enjoy each other’s company.

Jim was a giant, not just in the comic industry, but in sheer size. Whenever we were asked to pose for photos, I used to jump up on the nearest chair and rest my elbow on his shoulder. Somewhere. I’m pretty sure there’s a photo of me standing with Jim, Mike Richardson and Steve Leialoha where all you can see is my hat.

News of Jim’s death was a gut-punch. He was a kid of only 73 who left an indelible mark on the comic industry over a career that spanned 60 years. A career unequaled, a life too damned short.

The Hall of Heroes is filling up.

Save me a seat, Jim.

                  –Mike Grell