My Comic Book Collecting Origin Story

Ever since I was a kid, comic books have been part of my life. Not in the obsessive, bag-and-board collector kind of way, but more like a steady companion. They were always there, waiting to be picked up, flipped through, and enjoyed. My collection has grown and shrunk more times than I can count, but the memories tied to those pages are permanent.

It started on the carport of the house I grew up in. My older brother had a sprawling pile of comics stashed under a table out there. During the summer, I’d pull out random issues and settle into the old sofa we kept outside, the kind with cracked vinyl and springs that poked you if you sat wrong. I’d read while the rain tapped on the roof, the scent of wet pavement drifting in. That pile was a treasure chest. Justice League America, Superfriends, Unknown Soldier, Sgt. Rock, Fantastic Four, Batman, Hulk. There were Richie Rich and Uncle Scrooge comics too, and a healthy stack of Mad and Cracked magazines that taught me sarcasm before I knew what the word meant.

Those comics weren’t in mint condition. The carport wasn’t exactly climate-controlled, and the pages had soaked up enough humidity to curl like autumn leaves. But I didn’t care. The value wasn’t in resale. It was in the stories. Eventually, when we moved to a new house, my uncle came and took the whole lot. I never saw those issues again. And at the new place, I had no comics at all.

That changed during one of our summer road trips. My dad traveled for work, and sometimes the family tagged along. On one trip, my mom picked up an Archie Digest to pass the time. When she finished, she handed it back to me. I devoured it. Archie, Betty, Veronica, Jughead, Reggie—they were like a sitcom in print. I started spending my allowance on Digests and Double Digests, building a new collection one grocery store visit at a time.

Then came Green Lantern. We were at the Piggly Wiggly, and among the sparse comic rack offerings, Emerald Dawn #5 caught my eye. I had no idea what was going on in the story, but I liked the character from the Superfriends cartoon. I bought it, then picked up issue #6 the next month. That was the start of a long, on-again, off-again relationship with Green Lantern comics.

For a while, I drifted back to wrestling magazines. But then the Death of Superman happened. The hype was unreal. Superman #75 sold out instantly. My brother wanted it for the collector value, and I just wanted to read it. We went to a local comic and card shop, but they were sold out. We kept checking back, and while my brother grew frustrated, I discovered a whole new world of comics I’d never seen before.

I read Superman #75 at school and was hooked. I chased down the follow-up issues…Funeral for a Friend, Reign of the Supermen, and kept reading long after the saga ended. Then came Batman’s Knightfall storyline. Bruce Wayne’s back was broken, someone else took over, and eventually Bruce returned to reclaim the mantle. I was all in.

Around that time, I discovered Wizard Magazine. Issue #17 was my first. It was like a monthly comic book encyclopedia. I learned about Valiant and Image Comics, read character histories, and saw previews of upcoming issues. My friend Geoffrey and I would talk on the phone about what we saw in Wizard, geeking out over new storylines and cool covers.

That little comic shop eventually closed, a casualty of the speculator bubble. But I picked up a lot of books there, some of which I still have. I never stopped reading comics. These days, I revisit that era through digital apps, catching up on stories I missed and reliving the ones I loved.

That’s how I fell into comic books. Not with a bang, but with a slow, steady tumble. And I never really climbed out.