My Life With Comic Books: Part # 169

A brief introduction:
My name is Paul Howley. Some people have called me the “luckiest man in the comic book business.” But that all changed as of January 9th 2001.

The current cast of characters:
Paul Howley: age 46
Mal Howley: age 46
Adam Howley: my son, age 21
Cassy Howley: my daughter, age 16
Meridith: Adam’s best friend

MY LIFE WITH COMIC BOOKS: THE HISTORY OF A COMIC SHOP-Part 169
“Meridith Remembers”

Meridith Burkus, Adam’s girlfriend, told me, “I had a job interview at a restaurant in the Prudential Center on the morning of Adam’s accident. It was snowing on my walk home and I had nothing else to do so I randomly decided to go back to sleep. I was asleep when Adam fell asleep at the wheel and that’s when I had the dream. In my dream Adam and I were together and he said, ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t do it to hurt you (referring to Rhode Island) I love you.’

“Adam and I had spoken at length on the telephone that weekend. He was telling me all about how his plans to go back to college in Rhode Island were coming together. It took every ounce of self-control to not blurt out, ‘I love you so much’ but I didn’t because I knew that could veer him off the new course he was successfully on. I wanted him to start school on his own. We had decided to ‘take a break’ shortly after his 21st birthday because I knew that I would get too wrapped up in helping him get into school and get things together at the expense of my own studies. We were so attached and I felt that we needed to accomplish things on our own and then come back together a little less co-dependent. I’ve gone back and forth on this choice but in the end I spent two or three months working on myself by reconnecting with Mr. Greco and his church in Cambridge and really focusing on my studies. I think I developed the strength to get through what was about to happen. I’m not sure where I’d be if I hadn’t made the decision to do some soul searching that fall.

“You called my parents’ house in Groton and told my brother David about the accident and he gave you my telephone number in Boston. I remember exactly what you said to me. ‘Hi Meridith. It’s Paul Howley. Adam died today. There was an accident.’ Unfortunately, this has played over and over in my head so many times so I never forgot it. I remember trying to tell you ‘He was my best friend’ but I couldn’t breathe or get words out. I do remember being able to offer to call Phil Doreau but you said you wanted to contact him yourself. So, I hung up the phone and called home. I spoke to David who just said, ‘I know. Mom’s getting dressed. She’s coming to get you.’ Most all of my friends were away from Boston, on vacation, so I was pretty much all alone. I called the only person I knew was home (our mutual friend Rita) and I told her I needed to find Tori because she’d understand. Tori’s father died the year before. They told me to meet them at a fast-food place called The Wrap. I ordered a smoothie and they walked me back to my apartment. When I got there, my Mom, David, my brother Andy, and my friend Kenny and his girlfriend were waiting for me. I think someone in my family had called Kenny to tell him and he just got in his car and drove to be with me.

“When I arrived at my parent’s house I didn’t get further than the kitchen sink before I started vomiting uncontrollably. It’s probably the only reason I remember ordering a smoothie at The Wrap. I couldn’t stop. While I know that no one else slept that night, I remember forcing myself to pass out to stop throwing up. It sounds crazy, but I felt Adam’s hand on my shoulder. I held it and immediately fell asleep.

“The next morning, flowers were delivered to me. They were from my high school English teacher who remembered Adam fondly. My hometown of Groton lost three fellow students in the time Adam and I were dating, all of whom Adam either knew or knew their siblings. At the last funeral, during my freshman year of college, my English teacher said, ‘Let’s make this the last one.’ The flowers told me that she remembered that too.

“We then drove to Laconia to see you and Mal. Mal answered the door. As my Mom’s often retelling of that day, she said that Mal collapsed in my arms. My Mom says the rest of the day Mal was trying to be strong and was guarded for all of the people who came to the house that day. But with me she could actually cry freely as if she knew I had a piece of what she was going through. Perhaps that’s my Mom being poetic but she’s said it enough that I thought I’d include it in my memories of that time.

“Your parents were there and Sharon and Greg and others. I can’t recall what was said but I do remember a touching moment when your Dad talked openly about how brilliant he thought Adam was. I don’t remember what else he said but I remember his eyes that day. It was like he had lost a best friend, not his grandson.

“While I was at your house I only wanted to see one physical thing of Adam’s- his poetry book. When his interest in writing poems was sparked as a result of assignments in his first semester liberal arts at The Boston Conservatory I bought him a blank green journal. I knew that he had completely filled this book with his writings so I was glad that we found it. Adam’s cousin Emily Demund took my Mom and me to Wal-Mart to photocopy every page. I still have these copies. They are in a file cabinet in the folder I have marked, ‘I’m so sorry you’ve been reduced to a file folder.’ I like to think that title would amuse him. There’s lots of things in there like caution tape, candy necklaces, newspaper clippings from high school and printouts of emails he sent to me. Emily was concerned about me, knowing how sweet Aleeta was. I knew where Adam was at this point in his life, so I knew her without ever meeting her, but I understood that Emily’s concern was valid under the circumstances. I also particularly remember Emily seeming to not know where she fit. She was obviously in a lot of pain over Adam’s passing, but where did a cousin fit in with so many who were suffering? It had seemed like Adam had spent most of his time in New Hampshire trying NOT to fit in with Emily’s friends despite all of Emily’s efforts to reach out to him.

“Later that day, you took me back to Adam’s room and gave me the huge stuffed puppy that was on his bed. It really didn’t leave my side for quite a while. Actually, it’s sitting under the window in my room right now.

“You had already set the date for the memorial service and on my way home I made the decision to sing and read for the service. I contacted Mr. Greco and asked him if he’d play the piano for me and he agreed to do it. He also spread the news to the people at Lexington Christian Academy.

“When I got home I found that David had been sent home from school. He had gone into school but partway through the morning he sought out Mr. Byrne, Groton High School’s drama teacher, who knew Adam very well. David told him about Adam’s death and Mr. Byrne said, ‘You can’t be here, you need to go home, David.’ The rest of that week he was excused from classes to sit in the computer lab and create the poetry books that were given out at the memorial service. David was really destroyed that week.”

Next chapter: The memorial service.

My Life With Comic Books: Part # 168

A brief introduction:
My name is Paul Howley. Some people have called me the “luckiest man in the comic book business.” But that all changed as of January 9th 2001.

The current cast of characters:
Paul Howley: age 46
Mal Howley: age 46
Adam Howley: my son, age 21
Cassy Howley: my daughter, age 16

MY LIFE WITH COMIC BOOKS: THE HISTORY OF A COMIC SHOP-Part 168

“The Details.”

The annoying hospital chaplain was trying to usher us out of the hospital. How could we just leave Adam’s body in this hospital? We knew we had to, but it seemed so strange. Eventually we left. I don’t remember much from the rest of this day but here’s what I do remember. Once I got to my home, I called several of Adam’s friends to let them know about Adam’s death. At some point I spoke to the New Hampshire police and they told me what the truck driver who collided with Adam’s car had told them. He said, “The guy was slouched over in his car, as if he had fallen asleep, and he just drifted over into my lane. I blasted my horn but he didn’t respond and as I swerved to avoid him, he crashed into the side of my truck.”

Adam was killed instantly. I was relieved to learn that my son didn’t suffer.

The police asked me if the Honda Accord that Adam was driving had any mechanical problems that could have caused the accident but I explained that the car was in excellent condition. After the police fully investigated the accident they had the wreck towed to a local junkyard.

At some point, Mal’s sister Ginny and her husband Denis were told about the accident and without hesitation, they made arrangements with their employers, packed up their car, and began to drive the 1400 miles to be with Mal and I. Mal’s sisters Carol and Madeline made travel arrangements right away to fly from Georgia and Colorado to New Hampshire. My sister Sharon and her husband Greg arranged to pick up the relatives who were flying in to the Manchester, New Hampshire airport, even the ones who were arriving very late that first night.

People from our church brought food for us that afternoon. Lots of food, but we didn’t feel much like eating. When we were eventually left alone at our home we were in a daze. Mal and I went into Adam’s bedroom and for some reason we felt the urge to clean it. We packed two large trash bags full of trash and tried to straighten up his room by putting his clothes and shoes into the drawers and closet. We found the empty two-pound bag of pistachio nuts that we had given him for Christmas and a huge bowl of pistachio nut shells on the floor. We found several small notebooks full of Adam’s hand-written poetry. I suddenly realized that I had never read any of his poetry before. Now I’d never have the opportunity to share this with him. I shut off his computer and closed his bedroom door.

Our daughter, Cassy, had gone to a Bible study at a friend’s home and when she came home she went right to sleep. Mal’s sisters Madeline and Carol arrived very late that night. I couldn’t remember anything else that happened that night but recently Carol recalled:

“ I spoke with Madeline the other day and she confirmed that we arrived the night of Adam's death. I remember that her flight was coming in around the same time as mine and that Greg picked us up. I remember that when we arrived at your home...there were flowers and baskets everywhere for Adam (Your brother Jay had made some kind of wooden basket filled with gifts of handmade soaps and breads). There were also pictures all over the table of Adam. You both were horribly distraught and I remember thinking that I could hardly see Mal's eyes because she had cried so much. Mal took Madeline and I through the story of what had happened...and told us about the "Newport" kids.”

The next day, Mal’s sister Ginny and her husband Denis arrived and we told them the story of what had happened. My Mom and Dad came from Florida to be with us but since our house was getting crowded, my sister Sharon convinced them to stay at her house for the next week. Our pastor, Jim Morel, came over to discuss our thoughts about a possible funeral or memorial service. He guided us through the basics, using his experiences with past services and he was very helpful. Jim suggested that we consider hiring Wilkinson-Beane Funeral Home to handle the arrangements so I called and set up a time to meet with them. I don’t like funerals and I’ve always heard about the predatory practices of funeral homes. They take advantage of highly emotional, grief-stricken people to sell them services, caskets and burials that are primarily a waste of money. When my grandmother died a funeral home tried to pressure my mother into buying a deluxe casket with a “quality inner-spring mattress guaranteed for twenty years.” But this guy was different. He wasn’t emotional, but he was understanding and sympathetic. He listened to our thoughts and made very few suggestions. We weren’t ready to buy a casket but we came up with some rough ideas of the cost for a normal service. We’d try to come up with definitive plans over the next few days. He helped us write the obituary and he made sure it was published in the local New Hampshire newspaper and our old hometown of Bolton’s newspaper. It was an odd task to describe Adam’s life in such a short obituary. This is what we wrote:

“Adam Dean Howley, 21, died at the Lakes Region General Hospital in Laconia on January 9, 2001, following a motor vehicle accident.
Mr. Howley was born October 10, 1979 in Framingham, Massachusetts, the son of Paul B. and Marilyn L. (Daher) Howley. He was a graduate of Lexington Christian Academy in Lexington, Massachusetts, and attended The Boston Conservatory of Music in Boston, Massachusetts. He had been accepted for the spring semester at the University of Rhode Island in Kingston, Rhode Island, as a theatre major. He starred in his first play at the age of five. He loved to sing and dance and he loved the theatre. He was very active in summer theatre and directed the play, “You’re A Good Man, Charlie Brown” in the summer theatre in Groton, Mass. He also enjoyed spending time in Newport, Rhode Island. Mr. Howley had lived in Bolton, Mass. For 17 years and also lived in Boston, Mass. before moving to Gilford, New Hampshire a year ago. He had worked at Friendly’s Restaurant in Laconia since July. Mr. Howley was a member of the Trinity Church in Bolton, Mass. and the Laconia Christian Fellowship Church in Laconia. Survivors include his parents, Paul and Mal Howley, his sister Cassandra Howley of Gilford, his paternal grandparents John and Marion Howley of Bolton, Mass, and his maternal grandparents Richard and Helen Daher of Florida, 24 aunts and uncles, many cousins and great cousins, as well as his very close friends Alletta, Meridith, Phil, and Victor.”

Shortly after we got home from the funeral home, Meridith and her mother came up to visit. Meridith shared lots of very personal thoughts about Adam with us that touched us deeply. After a while, we all went into Adam’s room together. We wanted Meridith to take the large stuffed dog that she had shared with Adam and she appreciated it. We told her to take anything else that would be helpful for her but I don’t remember if she took anything.

After Meridith and her Mom left we got our mail. In it was a letter from the University of Rhode Island confirming that Adam had a room on campus for the upcoming semester. If the college had mailed the letter a few days earlier, Adam wouldn’t have had to drive down there to get the college to commit to assign him a room.

Next chapter: The memorial service.

Pictures: Adam's messy room

My Life With Comic Books: Part # 167

A brief introduction:
My name is Paul Howley. Some people have called me the “luckiest man in the comic book business.”

The current cast of characters:
Paul Howley: age 45
Mal Howley: age 46
Adam Howley: my son, age 21
Cassy Howley: my daughter, age 16

MY LIFE WITH COMIC BOOKS: THE HISTORY OF A COMIC SHOP-Part 167

“In the blink of an eye” our lives changed.

Mal and I were on our way to The Lakes Region Hospital after the New Hampshire State Police officer came to our house and told Mal that Adam had been in a serious car accident. We had no idea how serious Adam’s injuries were so the short ride to the hospital seemed to take far too long. We pulled up to the Emergency Room entrance, jumped out of the car, and ran into the entrance.

“Hi…We were told that my son Adam Howley was brought in here by ambulance. Could you tell me where he is?”

“Let me check. Oh…I’ll be right back”, the receptionist said.

A few minutes later, the receptionist returned and asked, “Could you describe Adam for me? Does he have any tattoos or piercings?”

“No. He doesn’t have any tattoos…but he does have his ears pierced. Oh…he has one eyebrow pierced. Why are you asking this?”

“I’ll be right back,” she said (without answering my question)

When she returned she asked, “Are you sure he doesn’t have any other piercings?”

“I’m pretty sure, but I’m not positive. Please…we want to see our son.”

“Well, the doctors are working on him right now. I’ll go talk to the doctors.”

“Please…we want to see him now. How serious are his injuries?!”

“I’ll be right back,” she replied.

“If he’s still alive I want to see him right now,” I insisted.

She ignored me and walked away, apparently to talk to the doctors who were with Adam. A few minutes later she came back with a doctor who said, “I’m sorry, but Adam had severe chest trauma and there was nothing we could do.”
Mal’s legs buckled but I held her up. “Please…I want to see him,” I implored.

“Give us a few minutes to clean him up,” the doctor replied.

Mal and I stood in the hospital corridor, she in stunned disbelief, while I was trying to hold myself together, thinking that Mal would need me to “be strong.” While we were waiting, the hospital Chaplain approached us to offer his condolences. “Helluva way to go,” he said. “Was he an organ donor?”

“No…I don’t think he was. This isn’t a good time right now,” I suggested while Mal cried.

“Oh. Sure. If you change your mind let me know, okay?” he said.

I ignored him. I called my sister Sharon and told her, “Sharon, Adam was killed in a car accident.”

“Oh Paul, that’s a terrible thing to say…don’t even joke about that!” She said.

“I’m not kidding. We’re at the hospital right now.”

Sharon burst into tears.

About ten minutes later Sharon’s daughter Emily rushed into the hospital. She sat next to Mal, holding her, while Mal rocked back and forth saying, “Oh, Adam, oh Adam, my baby, my baby.”

It wasn’t long before several other friends came to comfort us including our pastor Jim Morel and his wife Pam, our neighbor Lisa DiMartino, Jim and Barbara Foote, Adam’s cousin Jesse DeMund, and Emily and Liz Verhoeks. I called the main office of Laconia Christian School and told Judy Downing about the accident. “Judy, could you please get Brenda Carney (the Drama teacher) to get Cassy out of her class and use our van to bring her and her cousin Jacob to the hospital. I don’t want Cassy to know what happened because she might be too upset to drive herself here,” I explained. Judy took care of it right away and I soon met Cassy at the entrance to the Emergency Room. We embraced and she cried before I brought her in to see Mal. The news of Adam’s death spread quickly, so it wasn’t long before several of the students from Laconia Christian School came to be with Cassy. As the crowd grew, the hospital Chaplain suggested that we all move to a different area of the hospital so he brought us to a more private room away from the reception area.

Someone from the hospital asked Mal and I if we’d want to see Adam. I was reluctant but I knew I had to. We held each other and went with Cassy into the room. Adam was lying on a table and he still had the tube down his throat the paramedics had put in to try to revive him. Even though the hospital staff had “cleaned him up,” he smelled like diesel fuel (spilled into his car from the dump-truck he collided with) and he had dozens of small, bloodied cuts on his once-handsome face. His forehead and left eye was bandaged, covering some of his most serious injuries. We touched his face and I was surprised at how cold his skin was. ( For the next several months I could still remember how this felt to me.) I ran my fingers through his bright-red dyed hair and I was shocked at how coarse it felt. I hadn’t really touched his head for several years and the frequent color changes must have damaged his previously soft hair. We stood there, mostly in silence, until my sister Sharon and her husband Greg asked if they could come to see Adam. We cried as they said goodbye to him.

At one point, when I left the room where Adam was in, the Chaplain approached me and asked, “Have you reconsidered donating his organs?”

“No, I’m not donating his organs. Don’t ask us again. You’re upsetting my wife.”

My memory is blurred around this time so I can’t be sure of the “order” of things, but at some point I went back to the hospital nurses station and asked if I could use the telephone again. I called my Dad and Mom in Florida. “Dad, Adam died today in a car accident.” My father replied with an unusual, sad sound, and he assured me that they’d fly up to be with us as soon as they could. Then I called Adam’s closest friend Meridith. When I told her what had happened she told me that she was sound asleep when I called and was having a dream that Adam had come to her and he explained that everything would be alright. I told her that I’d call her back later.

I called Adam’s current girlfriend, Aleeta, but looking back, I wish I had given the news to her mother so that she could break the news to Aleeta. I just blurted out, “Adam was in a car accident and he was killed.” She cried. “I’ll call you later to talk about it,” I promised.

I called Mal’s sister Madeline but she didn’t believe me. I insisted that it was true but I had to eventually put Cassy on the phone before Madeline really believed me. I think Madeline called the other family members to give them the awful news. I can’t remember who else I called while I was at the hospital, but I know the word got around quickly.

The hospital Chaplain came by and said, “Hey, we need that room now for other people. Are you almost done?”

Next Chapter: The details

My Life With Comic Books: Part #166

The current cast of characters:
Paul Howley: age 46
Mal Howley: age 46
Adam Howley: my son, age 21
Cassy Howley: my daughter, age 16

MY LIFE WITH COMIC BOOKS: THE HISTORY OF A COMIC SHOP-Part 166

Winter in the “Lakes Region” of New Hampshire is always harsh. For five months there is lots of snow and cold. The winter of 2000-2001 was even worse than normal. The snow started in November and piled up so fast that we had to hire a company to come and truck it away because there was no more room along our driveway. But, on Tuesday, January 9th, 2001, it was a clear and snow-free day. Adam called me at 7:45 am to tell me, “I’m up and ready to get in my car so I’ll be home in time for my car inspection.” I didn’t ask him how his trip to Newport, Rhode Island went. He had a list of important things he needed to get done so he’d be able to start taking classes at the University of Rhode Island in mid-January but I didn’t ask him about these. I’d ask him when he got home.

Mal spent most of the morning preparing for a party she was hosting that night. It was her turn to have the group of women over for the monthly “Pokeno” game so she was baking up a bunch of pastries and cakes.

As it neared 11:45 a.m.we were surprised that Adam hadn’t gotten home yet. If he left when he had said he was going to leave he should have already gotten home in time for his scheduled car inspection. I called Belknap Tire and asked if I could take Adam’s allotted inspection time since it appeared as if he was going to be late. I drove to Belknap Tire and visited with my friend, Jim Foote, while my car was being inspected.

While Jim and I were talking, he got a phone call from our friend Liz who asked to speak to me. Liz told me that Mal was on her way there and I needed to be ready to go with her right away. Mal arrived a few minutes later and as I got into the car she told me that shortly after I had left the house, a state police officer had knocked on our door to tell us that Adam had been involved in a serious car accident. The policeman offered to drive Mal directly to the local hospital where Adam was being brought by ambulance but Mal knew it would be better for her to drive our car so she could pick me up to go with her to the hospital. That way, we’d have our car there so we wouldn’t have to call someone to come pick us up later on.

The policeman was unable to give Mal any details about the accident so we had no idea of the nature of Adam’s injuries. Even though we were only a few minutes away from the Lakes Region General Hospital, it seemed to take a long time to get there. We tried to prepare ourselves for the worst. We both hoped Adam’s legs were not hurt. We knew how much he loved to dance. A cassette tape in the car played “Help Me God,” by Kathy Trocolli.

Next Chapter: The hospital

My Life With Comic Books: Part # 165

The current cast of characters:
Paul Howley: age 45
Mal Howley: age 46
Adam Howley: my son, age 21
Cassy Howley: my daughter, age 16

MY LIFE WITH COMIC BOOKS: THE HISTORY OF A COMIC SHOP-Part 165

In October of 2000, while working on compiling all of his poetry that he’d written, Adam’s old computer “crashed.” He lost everything he had done but, since he had all of his poetry written in several small notebooks, he could start over if he had a new computer. So, for his birthday, we bought him a new state-of-the-art, very expensive computer. We didn’t ordinarily spend large amounts on birthday gifts for our kids but we knew this computer would be something Adam would use for many years. After it arrived, Adam worked on retyping all of his poetry when he had extra time. He asked me several times if I wanted to see it, but I put him off, agreeing to read it once he had it all done. In truth, I do not like most poetry so I wasn’t that interested.

As Christmas of 2000 approached, since we had just recently got him the computer, we had no idea what to buy Adam as a gift. We briefly considered buying Adam a new inexpensive car so that he’d have something very reliable for his frequent trips to visit his friends in Rhode Island. After checking out the Kia line of cars we thought the small Kia SUV might be a good idea. But after thinking about it for a while, we realized that Adam wouldn’t really take good care of a new car. Adam had bought my Honda Accord from me and within six months the car was no longer in excellent condition. He just wasn’t good at taking care of things. We’d have to come up with a better idea for a Christmas gift.

Both of our kids usually gave us a Christmas “Wish List” with some serious items, some goofy items, and a few jokes. Adam usually requested “Monkey-bacon.” One of the “joke” requests that Adam put on his list was “pay off my student loans.” Sorry kid, I don’t think so.

Mal loved Christmas. She enjoyed shopping for gifts for people, she loved Christmas music, but most of all, she loved decorating our home for Christmas. This particular Christmas season was busier than normal because we had scheduled a Laconia Christian School staff Christmas party at our home and Mal had a Christmas party for her women’s Bible study group there too. Mal set up and decorated four different Christmas trees that year but the fifth tree, in the family room, would be the one that we’d decorate with the kids. Mal had already put the lights on the tree and put the star on the top but, with the hectic schedules of our kids, there just wasn’t time to all be together to put on the rest of the decorations until a few days before Christmas.

Shortly before Christmas, Adam told us that he had decided that he wanted to go back to college. He knew he didn’t want to go back to The Boston Conservatory so he was looking into transferring to the University of Rhode Island to pursue a degree in Theatre. We wanted him to go back to college so we encouraged him to get as much information as he could before he made a decision about where he should go.

One day, after I came home to find Adam’s dirty dishes in the kitchen sink, I asked Adam to sit down and talk with me. I started by telling him that I loved him and that I was probably the only parent around who didn’t want his son to leave for college. I didn’t think he was mature enough or responsible enough to spend more time around his young friends in Newport, Rhode Island. I believed that they were a very bad influence on him and I questioned his motive for choosing a college in Rhode Island. Adam told me that the University of Rhode Island had a very good Theatre Department. He also explained that he felt it was important to be near his friends. He insisted that he knew what he was doing.

He had a lot of details to work out if he was going to be able to enroll for the January semester. He’d need to work out another student loan, get his transcripts from The Boston Conservatory, enroll in the required courses, and most importantly, he needed to secure housing. This would be the most difficult because transfer students get “last priority” for on-campus housing. Mal and I certainly didn’t want Adam to end up staying with his friends, “the Park Rats,” anymore. If he was to go back to finish his college education, we didn’t think it would be a good idea for him to be too distracted by his friends.

As Christmas approached, Adam began to work on the details for the college transfer and gave his notice at “Friendly’s,” the restaurant where he had been working. He planned to work there as close to the beginning of the January semester as possible because he really needed the extra money. Mal and I saw that Adam was concerned about having enough money to pay for his current student loans while he attended the University of Rhode Island. So, for his “big” Christmas gift, we decided to pay off his largest student loan. He was certainly shocked and happy when he opened that gift on Christmas morning! Later, when he found out that we had briefly considered buying him a new car (but decided not to because we knew he wouldn’t take good care of it) he said, “Yeah, but I bet you’ll buy Cassy a new car.” No Adam, I had no intention of buying your sixteen-year-old sister a new car.

Shortly after the start of the New Year, Adam still had no commitment of a room at the University of Rhode Island. On Thursday, he decided he’d call to insist that the college make room for him in a dormitory. He called them in the early afternoon and he was told by the voice mail message, “Your call is very important to us. Please stay on the line and your call will be answered in the order it was received.” Adam sat on the couch with the phone held to his ear, waiting for his call to be answered by a human being. After several hours of being on hold, a new message came on saying, “The office is now closed. Please call back during regular business hours.” Adam wasn’t pleased. Since there was just about one week left before the January semester was to begin, Adam decided that he would drive to Rhode Island and take care of things personally. He told us that he would go to the college on Monday morning and stand in the office until they promised him a room.

Believing that most college administration-types would give more consideration to a nice, clean-cut looking guy, at our urging, Adam reluctantly agreed to return his hair to his normal brown color from the bright red color it was at the time.

On Friday, Adam packed up some clothes for his weekend trip to Newport, Rhode Island, but he first had to work a full day at Friendly’s. He planned to leave for Newport right after he got out of work that day. Mal and I came up with a short list of things that Adam needed to do while he was in Rhode Island over that weekend. He needed to find a local doctor to give him the school required physical, get information about available student loans, he needed to dye his hair, and he needed to get a promise of on-campus housing. I wrote these things on a piece of paper and brought it to him at his workplace. He promised to take care of these things as he folded the paper and put it in his pocket. He needed to be back in Laconia, New Hampshire by noon on Tuesday because he had an appointment to get his annual, State of New Hampshire required, car inspection and he assured me he’d be on-time.

Next chapter: Adam calls me on Tuesday morning.

Pictures: Our family in December 2000
Adam gets his school loan gift

My Life With Comic Books: Part #164

The current cast of characters:
Paul Howley: age 45
Mal Howley: age 46
Adam Howley: my son, age 21
Cassy Howley: my daughter, age 16

MY LIFE WITH COMIC BOOKS: THE HISTORY OF A COMIC SHOP-Part 164

In November of 2000, our daughter Cassy signed up through our church to go on a trip to New York City to help distribute food and clothing to the homeless. Mal and I decided to sign up too. Adam couldn’t go because he couldn’t afford to take time off from his job.

The church Evangelism leaders, Ron and Christine St. Cyr, had made many trips to New York City over the years to help the homeless through an organization in the heart of Manhattan. They also organized overseas trips to help build churches, hospitals and orphanages.

Ron and Chris really knew how to organize these trips down to the smallest detail. They required anyone interested in going to attend several instructional classes where we were briefed on the potential dangers of this kind of outreach program. New York City was not like Laconia, New Hampshire. We practiced several potential scenarios so we could reduce possible troubles. Ron firmly explained that if at any time, he sensed a dangerous situation; we were to immediately follow his orders without hesitation.

In early December, we packed several vehicles with the winter coats, shirts, socks, gloves and mittens that we collected to give to some of the people who were homeless in New York City. We drove to a building that had large rooms upstairs for us to sleep in and a soup-kitchen-function room on one of the lower floors. The men in our group occupied one floor and the women were on another. My bunk was near one of the men from my church in New Hampshire who snored so loudly that I was actually awake almost the entire first night.

Over the next couple of days many of us prepared hundreds of sandwiches and packed up bags of toothpaste, toothbrushes, and other personal hygiene products to give to as many of the homeless people as we could find. As we met the people, we explained that there were people who cared about them and we encouraged them to seek out the help of some of the local food pantries and shelters in the area. Most of the people we found were really “in need” but we were surprised when we discovered one man living in a large box with a working television and a microwave oven. He had found a way to hook up to someone’s electrical service! Still an unpleasant way to live, but he had a good sense of humor about his awful situation. Facing a very cold winter outside, he gratefully accepted our offer of food and warm clothing.

Mal and I went with a group of other volunteers to serve hot meals at another local food pantry where it was suggested that we should try to make direct physical contact with the people by hugging them or holding their hand. Many of them would go without any physical contact for weeks or months. They needed food, but they also needed to know that others cared about them. We were saddened to see the dozens of hungry people in line waiting for a simple meal. The people we served seemed so thankful for what we were doing but we were really getting even more out of this experience.

Our daughter, Cassy, went with another group to help coordinate a “Sunday School” for several thousand inner-city children. The church would send busses around the city and parents would just put their kids on the bus so they could be brought to this church. Kids as young as three-years old were sent, alone, to the church program.

On Sunday, we all went to an enormous church service held at The Times Square Church, pastored by David Wilkerson. Then, after Ron St. Cyr reluctantly led us on a fast-moving thirty-minute sightseeing tour of the Rockefeller Center area, we headed back home to New Hampshire. Our son, Adam called our cell phone to see if we were on our way home and Mal told him we’d be back home within a few hours. But we hit an area of tremendous rain that made our driving very treacherous so we ended up several hours behind schedule. Adam called us again, worried that we may have slid off the road. He knew that Ron and Chris usually had everything on a tight schedule so it was very unusual for a trip to be this late. When we finally made it home, we were exhausted but still excited about what we had done and learned on this trip. We looked forward to going again next year as a family with Adam.

Next chapter: Christmas

My Life With Comic Books: Part # 163

The current cast of characters:
Paul Howley: age 45
Mal Howley: age 46
Adam Howley: my son, age 21
Cassy Howley: my daughter, age 16

MY LIFE WITH COMIC BOOKS: THE HISTORY OF A COMIC SHOP-Part 163

The two major local newspapers finally ran articles and photographs about my eagerness to buy collectibles while I was set up for a week in the Belknap Mall in New Hampshire. With only one full day left of my rental time, I was curious to see what kind of results these two articles would have as far as motivating area residents to bring their items to sell to me. The previous six days had been profitable because of a few nice lots of items I was able to buy but most of each twelve-hour day I spent alone in my booth and it was boring.

I decided to get to the mall even earlier than I had been getting there because it took me about an hour to set up the toy display each morning. I assumed that we’d have a few more people than usual showing up with stuff for me to look at and I was happy that my wife, Mal, insisted on coming with me that morning. By the time we arrived at the mall there were already about twenty people carrying boxes and pushing shopping carts full of collectibles waiting for me!

Mal and I quickly arranged our display of collectibles in our booth and I began to look through the items that the people had brought into the mall. The first few had toy trucks and Matchbox cars. The next had some old magazines. I made offers on all of these items and the people were satisfied enough and they sold them to me. The next man had a very large plastic storage container filled with comic books from the 1960’s. I asked him if he had an idea of how much he wanted for the whole lot and he said he’d like at least $50 for the lot. I started to search through the container and found several interesting comic books that I knew I could sell for $5 to $10 each. Then I found a copy of “Amazing Fantasy” issue # 15 featuring the very first appearance of Spider-Man. It was only in “good” condition because of some creases on the front cover, but I knew I could sell this for about $750. When I offered the man $600 for just this one comic book he was shocked but he was very happy. It took me about twenty minutes to calculate my offer on the whole lot of four hundred comic books but when I offered the man $1200 for the collection he was thrilled!

As I was appraising and buying stuff from the people in line, I could see that the line continued getting longer as more people carried boxes and bags of old things into the mall. I wanted to hurry through some of the appraisals but I didn’t want to be rude to anyone, so I did my best to explain the true value of each and every item. One man, who was about 15 places back in the line, yelled up to me. As I looked at him he slid a group of 1940’s comic books out of a large envelope. I told him I’d get to him as soon as I possibly could but he said he couldn’t wait any longer. He’d already waited for almost an hour. I explained that I wouldn’t be set up in the mall after today and I gave him my business card and asked him to call me the next day. He assured me that he’d call. He never did. It still annoys me that there is a large collection of rare golden-age comic books sitting somewhere in the area. I should have gotten his phone number!

The crowd was finally gone by about 4 pm and I had large piles of merchandise piled up inside my booth. I also had a few good “leads” on potential additional collections that people didn’t want to bring into the mall. One of these consisted of almost 25,000 comic books from the late 1970’s-2000. I finally completed a deal on these a few months after my mall experience. These were not particularly valuable but I did eventually sell them all.

Overall, this buying experience was exhausting but it was a profitable venture and I have a few new friends because of it.

Next chapter: We travel to New York City to feed the homeless.