Love Conquers Hate

It seems trivial discussing anything seemingly comics-related amidst news of the tragedy in Boston today. My five-year-old daughter caught the story on television by accident. She failed to understand how anyone could hurt a two-year-old. I had no answers for her.

I write this because love conquers hate.

I was standing outside in the sunshine this morning before the terror attack in Boston, enjoying the new weather when Harlan Ellison phoned. My pal was calling to say yes, he'd be happy to sign comics for a new scholarship. Of course he would. Harlan's always there for his friends and for quite a few strangers, and he's spent a lifetime setting an example. He'll be 79 in May and his health has been lousy. That doesn't matter. He'd have been insulted if I hadn't asked.

Then Johnny Romita Sr. contacted me to say yes, of course he'd sign comics for a new scholarship. Of course he would. He was glad I asked. John's 83 now. He has his own problems, like everyone else, but he's never said no to anyone looking for help.

Stan Lee emailed me last night. "Of course," he said. Of course. Stan's 90 and everyone wants a piece of him. Of course.

Love conquers hate. That's why this 52-year-old still hangs around comics and comics people.

Something less than human plants bombs and blows up strangers and calls it a cause. The rest of us look around and say, "How can I help?" Cause enough.

We're here to help each other get through this thing, whatever it is. And that's it.