Comic book helped ease grief from father's death for both creator and reader
Comic book legend Jim Starlin visits Des Moines Con; His 1982 story 'The Death of Captain Marvel' helped an Iowa boy process the grief form his father's death
There used to be a comic book store at the shopping center near 42nd Street and University Avenue in the spot occupied by Louie’s Wine Dive occupies today.
I don’t remember the name of the store, but I bought the most personally significant comic I ever read there in 1991.
Joyce, my beloved Mom 2.0, took me to shop after a trip to the dentist’s office, which was just west of the store.
I had $20 of allowance money in my pocket and wanted to get something special.
I pulled out two oversized, magazine-style Marvel Graphic Novels from the 1980s.
The first was No. 18, “The Sensational She-Hulk,” written and drawn by one of my favorite creators, John Byrne.
The cover featured the title character flexing in a body building pose on a black background.
I love Byrne’s art and whenever I saw it on a comic rack, I bought it.
I used to trace his drawings and imitate his style when I still held notions of being a comic book artist.
But the other comic I pulled out tugged at me.
Marvel Graphic Novel No. 1 “The Death of Captain Marvel” featured an operatic cover illustration of Death cradling Captain Marvel as other heroes raced to save him.
I knew almost nothing about Captain Marvel and the book sealed in a plastic bag with a cardboard backer, so I couldn’t browse the pages.
I couldn’t afford both books, so I put the She-Hulk comic back in the bin and took Captain Marvel to the cash register.
Joyce drove us home and Bob, Dad 2.0, was not yet home from work. She started work on supper and I went upstairs to my bedroom and unwrapped my new delight.
The story and art were by Jim Starlin, a name I did not know 33 years ago.
I later learned Starlin was one of the greatest creators in comics. He co-created the villain Thanos, which became the big bad played by Josh Brolin in the Marvel Cinematic Universe.
He wrote “Death in the Family,’ which saw the second Robin die after he was beating and blown up by the Joker.
And he wrote “Infinity Gauntlet,” the story of which provided the backbone for the wildly successful Marvel movies “Avengers: Infinity War” and “Avengers: Endgame.”
I never bought any Captain Marvel comics before that fateful day in 1991.
The story began like most comics. There’s a battle. The heroes win.
But at the end of the fight, Captain Marvel begins coughing uncontrollably.
Tests reveal he contracted cancer after a sealing a nerve gas cannister with his bare hands after a fight with the villain Nitro years before.
Captain Marvel, also known as Mar-Vell, tells his friends and loved ones he is dying.
Mar-Vell records his memoirs. Rage overcomes him. He smashes the computer.
He survived alien invasions, super-villains, monsters, and mutants.
“Who would have thought that in the end, my own body would do me in,” Mar-Vell says.
Heart disease killed Dad 1.0 when I was 13 years old.
I still struggled with grief three years later when I read that comic atop the black-and-white sheets of my twin bed.
My dad survived the Great Depression on an Iowa farm and served in the Navy as a non-combatant during World War II.
He provided for his wife and family and helped raise two adopted children, my sister and myself.
His reward a slow, painful degradation of his body until he faded away one morning in the basement bedroom of our Winterset home.
My father was my hero. He didn’t fight aliens or defeat archvillains’ schemes.
But he helped teach me to read by sitting me on his lap and giving funny voices to the characters in the Sunday comics section.
He showed up to every event and cheered even though I was the worst player on every team I joined.
He was co-den leader of my Cub Scouts troop even though I showed little aptitude for outdoor activities.
He took me to a “Doctor Who” convention on a hot summer day at Iowa PBS in 1988, just a few months before he died.
We played checkers together every night before the 10 o’clock news.
I clung to Dad in his dying days, pleading with God to let me hold onto him for a few more years.
It was not to be.
After reading this comic, I finally understood what dying must have felt like for my father. He lived the life of a good man, but in the end, his body betrayed him until he faded away on a Sunday morning a week before Christmas 1988.
I later learned Starlin wrote this story to cope with his own father’s death from cancer.
Starlin is coming to capital city next week for Des Moines Con, a pop culture event that bills itself as a “celebration of … all things nerdy.”
A friend offered to help me get a press pass to the event so I could meet the writer who helped me accept and understand death at a time when I desperately needed the insight.
Alas, I cannot go. I use a walker and a cane to maintain mobility, but my arthritic knees can only tolerate so much walking and even less standing.
I am too stubbornly prideful to use a scooter or wheelchair.
So, I won’t meet the great Starlin, but I send this out into the world and hope he sees it.
I’m sure he’s heard this countless times, but here’s one more:
“Thanks, Jim. Your story helped a grieving boy find his way.”
Long live the Death of Captain Marvel.
Daniel P. Finney, a member of the Iowa Writers Collaborative, wrote for newspapers for 27 years before being laid off in 2020. He teaches middle school English now. Please consider a paid subscription.
Thank you, Daniel.