Editor’s Note: DC Comics President Paul Levitz returns to Blog@ to post memories of comics retailer Rory Root, who passed away today.
by Paul Levitz
This one’s for Rory.
We lost one of comics’ gentle evangelists today, a man named Rory Root who preached from an overcrowded store crammed with graphic novels and comics of all description, or in the middle of a bustling convention floor, or really, almost anywhere that someone would listen. Oversize coffee mug brim full and ever-present in his hand, he’d move through his wares with the sure hand of a man who knew each of his customers — even ones he’d never met. He knew what you’d like, well enough to bet that you’d keep a book he guaranteed to take back. And he’d remember, even from year to year.
Long before the “era of the graphic novel,” Rory was a believer. He loved the diversity of comics, from the obscure but artfully done littlest independent title, to a beautiful archival project. He pushed publishers to do more, customers to try more, and smiled broadly when he talked about the artists who had visited his store and become part of the circle directly.
We talked, each time we were together, about comics I should read, about titles my daughter would like, about things DC could do, and, sadly, too often, about his health, which was long challenged. But as difficult as much of his life was, he found great joy in sharing the comics he loved.
Most of you know someone a little like Rory, because it’s the reason the comic shops are some place we love to visit: run by folks who share a passion for their brightly colored contents and their friends who are, coincidentally, their customers. One loves the art books best, another Barks, another the indies, another super heroes, yet another the ones with the pretty girl art. Their championing titles is often the only thing that enables them to survive.
It’s a long tradition. Back when I was publishing The Comic Reader, there was no direct market and barely any comic shops–but my ability to keep publishing was supported by pioneering mail order dealers Phil Seuling and Bud Plant, and early store owners like Ed Summer. And even before that, my love of comics was nurtured in a dusty old store called My Friend’s Book Store, where Ruby Auerbach and Dotty Chalfin held court and brought up a generation or two of Brooklyn’s comic fans and future pros.
Here’s hoping it’s a tradition that goes on a long, long time. And that someone remembers to lift a beer stein full of coffee in Rory’s memory, as long as it does.
May 19th, 2008 at 11:08 pm
Thank you, Paul, for the spot-on tribute. Rory was a true pioneer, and a true friend to everyone who loves comics. He is already deeply missed.
May 20th, 2008 at 3:22 am
You nailed him, Paul.
He hadn’t been coming to the store very much for months because his health was so poor, but I could always count on at least one long phone conversation with him each day I worked there at the back counter, often only peripherally touching on business. Like many geniuses, he could be maddening to work with, but he was almost always right.
May 20th, 2008 at 5:40 am
Thanks, Paul. I worked for Rory off-and-on for 14 years, starting as an 18-year-old kid. I can honestly say that much of my life would have turned out very different, had I not crossed paths with him back then. It was at Comic Relief that I learned the ins and outs of the comics business, and Rory certainly had a hand in my education. Hell, it was Rory who first paid me to draw something, come to think of it.
As Jim points out above, he could drive the staff nuts sometimes — and lord knows he and I had it out once or twice — but so much of that tension came, at its heart, from Rory’s desire to make the store the best it could be. By all accounts, he succeeded brilliantly in that regard.
I finally stopped working my ‘day job’ at Comic Relief a few years back, going full-time into drawing comics, but the store will always feel like home. I spent the evening there tonight, as a gesture of respect, I suppose.
No one there was shocked at what had happened — we all knew it was coming — but the mood was a decidedly muted version of the the usually-jovial atmosphere of the store.
Rory’s influence in comics will be felt for many years to come, and I know Comic Relief will continue to be what Rory built there — a great comic book store, rarely rivaled and never equaled.
The store is putting together a memorial website, and if anyone has pictures or drawings to contribute, you can send them to RRmemorial@gmail.com.
May 20th, 2008 at 7:58 am
A very fitting tribute. I was thinking of Rory when I heard the neus & thoght it would be fitting to have his stool & Mug at the CR booth at Comic-Con.
May 20th, 2008 at 8:28 am
Very sad to hear about Rory, but I must digress:
My Friend’s Book Store? On Clarendon Road off of Flatbush Avenue?
God!
Anyone who shopped there benefited from my mother’s quarterly instructions to get rid of my “joke books,” for which I received a penny a piece!
May 20th, 2008 at 10:57 am
I saw Rory just a few weeks ago, as we worked on a comics deal together. That particular transaction did not work out, but it was still quite nice to spend an afternoon with Rory. He wasn’t feeling very well that day, being able to meet with me only after taking a considerable dose of Vicodi n for his chronic back pain, but his passion for comics was still burning brightly. We talked not only about the comics business as a whole, but also about his favorite comics being published today, and his hopes for the future of the comics world. Rory really did care…
Our time that day was cut short when a noted Independent comics creator, whom Rory supported when she was a relative unknown, stopped by to visit with him. The genuine affection that she expressed for him was quite moving. Yes, Rory could be as pedantic and bombastic as they come, but he also had great taste, and launched many a comics career through his tireless support of those whom he deemed to have talent. He will be greatly missed.
May 20th, 2008 at 12:23 pm
Rory was always a supporter of my work, from Hedge Knight, to Lullaby… I’m heart-fully saddened by this news, and wish the best for those he left behind.
God be near you, Rory.
May 20th, 2008 at 5:30 pm
I first met Rory when he showed up at the Chaosium to play my RuneQuest game, Back In The Day. Later he helped me find the comics I was looking for, bought my Avengers collection, played naval games and stored my naval miniatures collection, and we touched base every so often. He didn’t look well when I saw him at ComicCon two years ago, and I guess he didn’t get better. May Betty Ballista guide your path, Mr. Root.
May 20th, 2008 at 6:24 pm
I knew Rory, having worked for him at SDCC for three years, some of the best summers of my life. What he gave me those three little weeks, I will carry with me forever. He was, as some say, “pedantic” at times, but he was really one of the good guys, fighting the good fight without respite. It aches me to know that he’s passed on, but my love of comics today is directly correlated to his recommendations. He will be remembered as a true lover of the medium, and his enthusiasm was contagious. So long, Rory.
May 21st, 2008 at 12:20 pm
Sorry to hear of this news. I would frequent Comic Relief as often as I could since I was a teenager in the early 90’s. This was not an easy task since I lived in Vacaville, home of the Game Warden Comics(closed after 25 years, 1980-2005). I worked at the Game Warden as a kid until I became a co-owner at age 17. My mentor William “Bonzo” Glass, original founder of the Game Warden, first introduced me to Rory and Comic Relief I believe. Everytime I would make a trip to the bay area I would stop by the store. I would strive to make the Game Warden a touch of the magic that was Comic Relief. If I wanted to know what was new and hot in the alternative comics world, I would check out Rory’s place. Whenever I would meet someone who was thinking of opening a comic store I would recommend them checking out Comic Relief to see what a real comic store was about. It was always full of such wonders. Rory was the knowledge of comics. He always had an answer for your comicbook needs. He gave the store a touch of home, you felt relaxed to mingle with the employees and patrons. From his coffee mug to his pampered kitty, it felt like home. Rory will be missed everytime I drive by Comic Relief and don’t see him sitting out front enjoying his cup o’ joe. Rory will be missed everytime we attend Wonder-Con, the Alternative Press Expo and San Diego Comic-Con International and he is not there. Rory will be missed for his grinning smile.
May 25th, 2008 at 5:08 pm
Wow! Ummm, working at Comic Relief is the best job I have ever had. Taking leave from the music business, publishing and before entering the education field- I enjoyed three great years working at the store and two more working the conventions while employed as a high school algebra teacher in Oakland. Some of my most memorable moments were conversations with Rory that extended beyond the comic industry. Race, education, music, civics, the economics of sports and our favorite basketball player Rick Barry. Rory, usually all insightful and full of conversation, was also a great listener. Our exchanges were always civil and more importantly insightful and without restraint. We never left anything on the table. Not to be cliche, and maybe because we are both Bay Area bred, this is what MLK Jr. gave his life for. Hell, we could even joke about race because it was so silly to us on some level as much as it was serious. As an intellectual equal in some cases, and a intellectual senior in most I am grateful to have listened enough to learn more about literature, Sci-fi, the retail business, relationship building and of course the industry of comics from every facet. Man, the stories… and I received a heavy dose of them because he dropped me off at home most nights after closing and we would have our curbside vigils in the “hood” in the midst of all that is wrong in the neighborhood.
Peace Be Unto Him!
May 25th, 2008 at 7:16 pm
I received this bad news last Tuesday, and I have been profoundly saddened and affected ever since. Rory and I were associates, but more. I considered him my closest friend among the retailers that I had become affiliated with. I was a fairly young, and comparatively small, but Rory befriended me and helped me to understand how to play in the world that we were a part of. We shared our passion for comics, and the hope for what the industry could become, but he was far wiser and more experienced, and he always shared that wisdom and experience in the times we had together. We would sometimes share a room at various retailer or trade functions, and on those occasions we would burn the midnight oil talking comics, as a hobby, an art form, and an industry, over beers in the hotel lounge. I have been out of the business for several years now, but the business (and the special people you meet there) are always a part of you. I truly miss Rory, with his trademark fedora and coffee mug (am I the only geek who thought Rory was kinda like Thor, with the long blonde hair, his hat and thermos like the human incarnations of Thor’s helmet and Mjolner?) Maybe that’s just me, but at any rate I miss him. I miss the way he could speak intelligently seemingly forever, on any topic pertaining to comics, and I miss the way he shifted into “vocal chameleon” mode as he spoke. And yes, I miss being a part of a world that used to include him. Farewell my friend. You were truly one of the great ones…..