Maggie Thompson: A Happy Obsession

Contributed by historian, Overstreet advisor, Scoop columnist Maggie Thompson

OK, OK, some obsessions are a bad thing. But some bring joy to life. And some even provide a career.

My mom and dad encouraged me in an interest that became an obsession that became a career. And, when I say they encouraged me, I point to the first Pogo story I ever read; it’s from the actual issue I bought when I was 4 years old. See the notation in the upper left corner of the opening story in Dell’s Animal Comics #25? That notation was written by Mom – who read my comics to me before I could read them for myself.

She and Dad taught me some of the basic Lessons of Life:

1. If you really like what you see but delay the purchase, a comic book may not be on the newsstand the next time you visit the store.
2. Because it’s a comic book, you can’t depend on finding it in the library (or anywhere else) later.
3. If you buy the comic book and you like it a lot, keep it and take care of it. (See Lesson #2.)
4. When you’re given something you like, it’s nice to say, “Thank you.”
5. Oh, and if you think other people might like that thing you like, tell them about it, too.

Back to Animal Comics: I had a nightly story time – which meant that Mom not only knew what I was reading, she was also reading it to me. And she – and Dad – discovered that Walt Kelly was pretty doggoned brilliant.

As Animal Comics was beginning to have circulation problems, his Pogo reached out to readers in #28: “Anybody wants to send us some lettuhs, us’ll spell ’em out … We jes’ rarin’ to hear f’um all our friends – children and grown-ups!”

So, Mom and Dad wrote a letter. (By the way, Walt kept letters from many of those fans: letters found among his papers more than 70 years later.) And Walt responded to Mom and Dad, kicking off a correspondence that lasted for years and that, eventually, led to my friendship with his delightful daughter Carolyn.

But here’s the thing: Mom and Dad were also science fiction fans, familiar with amateur publications circulated among people with similar interests. Mom wrote and Dad drew, and they produced their own fanzine (circulation of less than 50) in 1949. It was called The Cricket, described as “a periodical of culture and reefinement,” and drew its title from its epigraph (from a Pogo story): “You plays cricket, drinks tea, an’ lifs the pinky when you holds the cup….”

And Mom established an inventory of my Walt Kelly comics (and even added to it at one point).

Here’s one more takeaway, as I now have a bonus of time available to organize accumulated stuff (see Lesson #3 again):

We are only the temporary custodians of what we treasure. At some point, our treasures will be passed on to others. Moreover: When we organize what we have, we can savor each treasure again – even as we figure out how to make it clear to others (Lesson #5) why it is a treasure.