Ray Harryhausen died yesterday, on May 7th, at home in London, at the age of 92. This truly marks the end of an era. When Ray was 13 he saw Willis O’Brien’s magical stop-motion work on King Kong, and his path for life was set. I won’t mention all of his films, but I was an impressionable lad when I saw The 7th Voyage of Sinbad, and Mighty Joe Young, and Jason and the Argonauts and The Valley of Gwangi.
Dinosaurs and monsters; impossible beings magically brought to life; sailing into the unknown on the adventures of a lifetime. These are what a Ray Harryhausen film promised and so often and so splendidly delivered.
And he was one of the nicest, sweetest guys I’ve ever met. He is also the only person I’ve ever asked to autograph their work. I was on a panel at a New York comic convention while I was editor in chief of Starlog magazine, and I was scheduled to be part of a panel on special effects in movies—a panel that would be shared by Ray Harryhausen and two other talented filmmakers (who they were, I have long since forgotten). Knowing I would be on the panel with Ray, I went trolling through the dealers’ rooms, looking for comics of his films. I scored a good condition Valley of Gwangi and a good copy of 7th Voyage of Sinbad. Then I made sure to sit next to Ray on the panel.
Ray was gracious, asking me if I wanted them personalized or just signed. I was too shy and in awe to ask for a personalized message, so he simply signed them with “Best wishes.” Those autographed copies are a proud part of my collection (of 7,000 comics).
Ray was a childhood friend of Ray Bradbury. Both were part of a early group of sci-fi and fantasy fans (Isaac Asimov was another), way back when. These guys grew up to be the new generation of fantasy-makers and inspired all who came after, especially such filmmakers as Spielberg and Lucas and Cameron. Harryhausen was the man who, one stop-motion frame at a time, set their minds on fire, while at the same time convincing Hollywood that genre movies could be big box office.
Ray was truly one of my idols, and the world is a bit darker and emptier place today for his passing.






We just can’t get enough of Mars!
I grew up on Kubert’s version of Tarzan and his war titles, like Sgt. Rock. The man’s linework was always assured and breathtaking, his storytelling almost always perfect. Later he created an important series of graphic novels and nonfiction volumes, including the brilliant Fax From Sarajevo about the war in Bosnia, and Yossel, his thought-provoking alternate-history biography that explored what might have happened to him if his parents had not escaped from Europe before World War II.
Many genre fans are not aware that Harry Harrison started his career as a comic book writer and editor, before he ever got into the area of science fiction and fantasy. His most popular novels include the Stainless Steel Rat series, and his classic, dark and hugely funny anti-war novel, Bill, the Galactic Hero. I had the pleasure of meeting Harry and spending some time with him while I was editor in chief of Starlog magazine. Later, as editor in chief of Byron Preiss Visual Publications, I got to work with Harry to adapt Bill into a trilogy of graphic novels, which, as I remember, was published by DC Comics.
Neil Armstrong said “One small step for [a] man; one giant leap for Mankind.” He did what I had wanted to do since I was five years old: walk on another celestial body other than Earth. I remember being inches away from our black-and-white 12-inch TV, adjusting the rabbit ears at 2 o’clock in the morning so we could see a man walking on the surface of the Moon. I cannot begin to explain how exciting that was.
Neil’s footprint on the lunar surface is the most inspiring iconic image of the entire twentieth century.