Jack Kirby, inks by Bill Everett. Thor #175, April 1970.
A giant, anyway. 19 years ago today, Jack Kirby shuffled off the coil. It was six days after my mother died, and capped a monumentally lousy week.
I knew my mom way better, but I did meet the man once. Anyone that's ever had more than one Kirby conversation with me is tired of hearing me mention it again, but I shook Jack's hand when I was 12. Tons of times. In fact, I spent two solid days finding crap for him to sign and then going and waiting in his line again. There were other things afoot at the convention that weekend, but I was on a mission. Jesus, Kirby was in the room! JACK KIRBY.
Anyway, that happened. People live, people die. Young and old, some you know, some you don't, really. A couple of them had massive impact on my life and how I've lived it, and they died in the same week. And that was a hell of a thing.