Rory Root 1957 - 2008

86 responses so far ↓

• 1 Annie // May 20, 2008 at 10:11 am

  I’m completely devastated by the news about Rory. I feel like my comics guardian angel is gone.

  I made it a point over the last three and a half years to always come to Comic Relief on Friday nights because that’s when the line of people waiting to talk to Rory was shortest. Every time I saw him, it’s be at least a two hour running conversation about everything from Etruscan sculpture to Gene Wolfe to why I should be reading Queen & Country.

  I counted on Rory to always steer me in the right direction for reading, and for his unparalleled warmth, graciousness, and welcoming personality. I always felt like royalty at Comic Relief, and I highly doubt that I’m the only customer that felt that way. It was a running joke between the two of us that I’d always wind up with a parking ticket after I shopped at Comic Relief because I’d spend far more time at the store than I originally intended.

  I could talk to Rory about anything, and he’d always have an erudite and witty response in return. I don’t think I’ve ever met a more intellectually well rounded human being. He tolerated my somewhat pedestrian taste in comics and gently pushed me to try new things.

  I remember I came in the store one night about a year ago, shaking and numb because I’d had to put my dog to sleep the day before.

  Rory immediately saw that something was wrong, and spent two hours gently talking to me and pulling out books for me to read to take my mind off what had happened. I walked out with a TPB of Bone and a few other things, and he wouldn’t let me pay. When I got home, I was moved to tears at how kind and considerate and caring he’d been.

  I’ll never, ever forget that. I don’t think Rory was aware of what a huge impact his kindness had on his customers.

  Please give the store kittys lots of love for me.

  RIP, Rory. You will be missed.

  - Annie

• 2 John Angelo // May 20, 2008 at 11:20 am

  I remember once, my girlfriend and I were in Berkeley
  and arrived at the
  Relief too late - they had already closed for the day.

  From the cold and darkening outside, I was looking in
  the window just to see what was within. Rory came up
  with a big smile and asked if we’d like to come in and
  purchase what we needed. I was very thrilled to get in
  there and get my latest copy of Acme Novelty Library,
  but I was in awe that this guy would give us a few
  minutes of his time to browse the store. The warmth
  and light within made the occasion that much better.
  We talked a bit about Chris Ware and his meticulous
  work. Rory had even purchased the big, ANL display
  stand for the store. On a seperate visti to the store,
  we talked about that and our joy at the beauty of his
  work.

  It was a simple gesture, yet still resonates with me
  to this day.
  A very sweet guy.
  RIP, Rory.

• 3 Weldon Adams // May 20, 2008 at 11:51 am

  Man…where to start.
  Rory was the first (and best) friend I made when I briefly lived in California.
  Rory had a way of making you feel like you were more than a customer…like you were part of the story ‘family’.
  And anyone who worked for Rory can tell you that it can at times be rough (I’m remembering ComciCons in particular!), but I think they would also tell you that Rory can be generous to a fault. Not just with things, but with his attention and thoughtfullness.
  My wife and I went back to Berkeley to visit once. It was her first trip to Cali. While standing in the store and listening to Rory ‘holding court’ as he does, I noticed a rumbling that sounded like a LARGE truck going by the store. I looked up and there was no truck, but the windows were still rattling. I knew what this meant. I looked at Rory who just smiled at me while he continued to talk. That’s when I noticed that he had started talking slightly louder… and he was gesturing slightly more. He had ‘turned up the Rory’ a bit. And I realized that he was doing it to better hold everyone’s attention (particularly my wife’s) to keep them from noticing the earthquake that was happening around us. Now, it wasn’t a big one. And Rory could tell that. So there was no reason to upset everyone. It was like watching a magician do a trick and suddenly realizing how he did it. It was slick. HE was slick. And he did it all without missing a beat in his story or missing a sip from his ever-present coffee tankard.

  Godspeed, Rory.
  It’s the 2nd star from the right and straight on till morning.
  But then, you already know the way…

  —Weldon

• 4 David Shultz // May 20, 2008 at 12:24 pm

  Oh my. Rory my dear friend. I don’t know where to start. You made friends so easily that I don’t know when we first met, because you acted like we had been friends for years.

  I suppose I really got to know him while I was working at Capital City’s warehouse the he frequented some 17 or 18 years ago. I always looked forward to his stories of the comics industry, not just because he knew so many people and knew so many things, but because he had an outlook and storytelling style that kept being interesting. He was a first class schmoozer. Always charming, sometimes aggravating, always respected. I know from personal experience that, while he was opinionated, he was very generous, particularly with his time.

  For a year or so, I was a housemate of his, somewhere back around the beginning of Babylon 5. We would have extensive conversations about books. He loved books. When we weren’t talking about books or comics or new sci-fi tv shows or music, we talked gaming. He had encyclopedic knowledge of everything he was interested in. Once when I tried to help him find some space in his overstuffed garage, we became sidetracked with his frequent archival recitations on the origins of ‘this’ game or the state of the comic industry when ‘that’ title came out. As usual, I was no help in the organizing because I was so fascinated. Somewhere in the mid 90s when Capital City closed the warehouse, I worked for Rory for a number of months. There were times there he was difficult but it was easy to see in hindsight that he was dedicated to building the best comic shop he could. Even when business was hard, his swave and schmoozing ways kept up forward momentum.

  In the years since then I have tried to stop in, when I had time, just to chat and check in with Rory. And it was a check in because he wanted to know what was going on in my life. I can easily imagine that he did that with scores, if not hundreds of people. Once when I stopped by there was furious activity and the ever present Todd, told me that the shop was moving. Rory had plotted and planned for a better space since long before I worked for him. I wandered over just past “Other Change of Hobbit” to the new space and poked my nose in. True to form, he invited me in and described how everything was going to be laid out as he handed me a piece of pizza, making me feel like I was a part of his world. At least, I think I remember pizza. Eventually the shop settled in and he geared the greatest comic book shop in the world back up to full steam and then made it better. Like the shop website says about him now “It is what he made it: THE comic bookstore”.

  I liked bringing friends there to introduce to him. If he wasn’t busy prepping for San Diego or some such, he always had time. Even then, he usually had a thoughtful word. Of course our conversations would be periodically interrupted by his helping a customer find what they were looking for. He really enjoyed helping new readers, or family members a fan looking for a gift, or a new Sandman fan looking for more good comics. That was his element. He cared and loved to share. He wanted people to be happy and get what suited them. He remembered astounding amounts of details about people. He remembered as much about me as friends who saw me weekly. When he encountered a new bit of info I had, he was all ears. It was always a joy to be kept alive in such a busy mind. He was and will always be kept so in mine.

  Rory, dear friend, you will be sorely missed.

• 5 Gilles Poitras // May 20, 2008 at 12:38 pm

  From my blog:

  Rory Root the founder of the Comic Relief bookshop in Berkeley has passed away.

  http://www.comicrelief.net/

  Rory was a pioneer in promoting graphic novels to libraries and participant in the GNLIB-L list for librarians interested in graphic novels and anime. His store was the first to win an Eisner Award which it richly deserved.

  I first met Rory in the late 1970s when I was an impoverished grad student who would drop by the comic shop on Telegraph Avenue to browse through their Japanese import texts. Rory was a lowly staff member who was always ready to make recommendations and learn from the knowledge of the customers.

  For years after that shop closed Rory would talk about opening his own store, it even became a subject to tease him about. When Comic Relief opened up many of us visited the store on that day. I was entering just as the store cat, a small black kitten at the time, was making a dash to the door being followed by Rory who was yelling “Get back here!”. I scooped up the kitten. turned it over and while my hand was being playfully mauled and chewed congratulated Rory on the store.

  For years I would visit after work and one day while in the store with a friend I was bored as he and Rory were having a long conversation when I spotted issue 3 of Akira in the old colorized colic book release. I bought that issue and the two previous ones which actually was my first comic book purchase since 1970. It was also my first manga purchase and since that date Comic Relief has continued to extract funds in exchange for wonderful books.

  I urge anyone who is visiting Berkeley to head downtown as see the store that Rory built.

• 6 DeAnne DeWitt // May 20, 2008 at 12:57 pm

  I met Rory in the 90’s, when my best friend and I were publishing comics. We were having some trouble breaking into the distribution process, and Rory took us by the hand, introduced us to the Diamond distributer, and placed an order for our books, sight unseen.

  He was one of the first people to stock our books, and one of the first ones to donate money to the fight to defend them when they caused a censorship fight in Texas.

  Years after I left the industry, I still exchanged cards and chatted with Rory, because he was such an engaging character.

  He was a man of enormous charisma and charm, and the world and the industry is a lesser place without him.

• 7 Erik Bigglestone // May 20, 2008 at 1:21 pm

  I have known Rory for more than 30 years, ever since I was a kid (arguably, he would have been little more than a kid back then, too), and he employed my sister for almost literally half of her life. Generous to a fault, he was always pleased to see me and my family when we could make it in, and instinctually gave my eldest son graphic novels that he somehow knew he would enjoy.

  I think the last time I saw him was at the store’s 20th Anniversary party, during which I rolled a keg of beer with a leaky tap three l-o-n-g blocks to the brewery and back to try and help make sure Rory was able to entertain his guests the way he wished. I was happy to volunteer the effort, because the man and his store were — and remain — important.

• 8 Lene Taylor // May 20, 2008 at 1:31 pm

  Rory was the reason I got back into comics after being away for many years. Without him and Comic Relief, I would never had started my podcast; without his help, it would never have kept going. I feel so lucky that I got to interview him. He was always happy to see me, always willing to talk, and the best supporter of comics I ever met. Bay Area comics won’t be the same without him. I miss him so much already.

• 9 Rex Stone // May 20, 2008 at 2:00 pm

  Today is a sad day for comic book fans, a legend has passed leaving a vacancy that will be impossible to fill in the industry. I first came to Comic Relief when I was 13, making the trip from my home town of Grass Valley based on the recommendation of my local shop owner. When I walked in I was greeted by elysian fields of comics and graphic novels the likes I had never seen. The $40 in my pocket began to burn like the sun in anticipation of being spent (and at that time comics were $.75-$1.25 and untaxed, that’s a lot of comics). Rory immediately came over to greet me and asked me what I was into, at 13 those interests ranged from Batman to X-Men, not a lot else. He handed me Watchmen, A Killing Joke and Dark Knight Returns. Whoa, “for Mature Readers Only” I thought, I’m stepping into the big time now. Those three books kept me into comics for the rest of my life, I still have my original copies and have read the each 50 times. That was just the beginning of great reads Rory hipped me to, among some others were Preacher, Transmetropolitan, and Ghost World. I thanked Rory many times in my time knowing him, but I can never thank him enough. Going to the store won’t be the same, but its a habit I’ve had for 18 years thanks to him and the great staff he has always employed.
  Thanks again Rory, my passion for a great read has been fueled by you.

• 10 Jim McVay // May 20, 2008 at 2:24 pm

  I first met Rory in the late 70’s when he was working at ‘The Mulitversal Trading Co.’, a gaming store owned by Dave Hargrave, if anybody remembers him. I was about 15 and never had any money but I would go down there all the time and just hang around. Even though I was just a dumb kid with no money Rory would chat with me a bit anyway. The black and white photo on the CR memorial site is the picture I have of him in my mind from that time. Despite the amount of time I spent in that store Rory is the only person, aside from Hargrave, who made any kind of impression on me. I guess he had ‘it’ even then.

  I’d see him off and on again over the years at the various stores he worked at in Berkeley. Unlike so many people in retail he just kept getting more friendly, attentive and enthusiastic every time I saw him. He would really listen to you when you spoke with him, which is a very rare thing, a character trait that he never lost as so many people have attested to.

  When I moved back to the bay area I rediscovered Rory at Comic Relief on University. My best friend and I began a weekly tradition we’ve kept up for the past 13 years - every wednesday we have lunch at Long Life Vegie house and then hit CR. It was always a treat when we’d run into Rory at the store and he even gave us discount cards for some made up reason or other, mainly just because he was a good guy. He revived my interest in comics as a medium and as good entertainment. Rory was eloquent, open minded, thoughtful, persuasive and always fun to talk with.

  Rory always made sure to mention when a signing was coming up by an artist I liked, though how he remembered those kinds of details considering the huge number of people he knew is a yet another testament to how understatedly exceptional he was. I’ll probably always regret not going to the Warren Ellis signing he told me about, it would have been great to hear to two of them gassing away about comics and probably everything else under the sun.

  I wish I knew Rory better. I’ll miss that spark in his eye and the life in his smile.

• 11 Jack Radey // May 20, 2008 at 2:26 pm

  I knew Rory from about 1979, when he was part of the gang playing games at Chaosium. A group of them went to rent a house from a friend of mine once, introducing themselves as Charlie Crank, Rory Root, Hal Moe, and Ken Kaufer. Handsome Charlie, big, blond, bluff Rory, wired Hal with the big glasses, and Ken, mumbling in his beard. She just couldn’t deal with them, thinking they were from some elaborate joke. “Four adventurers walk into a bar…”
  Rory was a joy to game with, whether role playing or poker. He hosted a poker game for a while that was a joy to sit in at. Always cheerful, pleasant, fun to be around. I haven’t seen him in years, but he will be missed.

• 12 Rory Root 1958-2008, Owner of Comic Relief in Berkeley | Laughing Squid // May 20, 2008 at 2:37 pm

  [...] Here’s more on Rory’s passing from The Comics Reporter and a memorial for him as been setup on the Comic Relief website. [...]

• 13 Meghan // May 20, 2008 at 3:01 pm

  I’ve known Rory for all 22 years of my life. In fact, I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for him. You see, he’s the swell guy that introduced my parents to each other.

  Rory really was a great guy. When I was five I had a ninja turtle plush doll. Michaelangelo. I carried that thing everywhere! It was my security blanket. One day I lost my beloved doll at a McDonalds. I spiraled into a deep depression, crying and crying and crying as five-year-olds sometimes do. Well, good chap that Rory was, he found me a Michaelangelo doll to replace the one I’d lost. Boy oh boy, was I a happy camper….all I can say now, is thanks.

• 14 Amy // May 20, 2008 at 3:04 pm

  I was so sad to come home to this news last night. When I was a lonely, bewildered newbie to the Bay Area comics scene, Rory was the first “industry” person I met, and he was totally welcoming and encouraging right off the bat. He bought my first mini for the store, gave me some advice on selling books and meeting other cartoonists, and took me and a group of other librarians to lunch for some comics-in-libraries chat. Since then I had got used to seeing him at shows in town. I will miss his presence.

• 15 dylan williams // May 20, 2008 at 3:12 pm

  Like almost every Berkeley kid, I can’t remember the first time I met Rory. He was always there at Gambit, Best of Two Worlds and Comic Relief. I have about a million memories of him. He always had a kind word for me, even when he was busting chops he always smiled. He was an original. I’m going to miss him so much. My thoughts are with Todd, CR1 and Rory’s Family. Take care.

• 16 Roger Root // May 20, 2008 at 3:41 pm

  This is very comforting to the family. Thank you all PLEASE keep it coming.

• 17 Isabel // May 20, 2008 at 4:14 pm

  I remember going to a graphic novels workshop group that the Berkeley Public set up for teens. I was really the only one there, but I, Rory and a librarian sat around a table for hours and discussed good comics, and generally had my perceptions on good novels and comics and art interplay just blown open a little wider. Thanks, Rory.

• 18 Scott Call // May 20, 2008 at 4:24 pm

  As a suburban teen in the other side of the caldecott tunnel, Comic Relief along with Rocky Horror at the UC was a staple of my high school days.

  I did not know Rory by name, but I certainly enjoyed every time I had the chance to ask him a question or pick his gigantic brain.

  I remember his generosity in hosting a wine and cheese event at the store after the Neil Gaiman reading of Fragile Things at a theater nearby.

  Best wished in this hard time to all of his friend’s and family. Every life should be endowed with a Rory, just as every town should be endowed with a Comic Relief.

• 19 Bob Cowden // May 20, 2008 at 5:00 pm

  I remember Rory from Best of Two Worlds and other stores on Telegraph Ave. from 25+ years ago. The picture of a younger Rory on this site brought back a lot of memories. I enjoyed listening to everything he had to say back then and seeing him in those stores. Later, when I wandered into Comic Relieft, it was pretty neat seeing him with his own store and watching how he made it better and better over the years.

• 20 Cody Vrosh // May 20, 2008 at 5:04 pm

  It’s strange to realize that I met Rory over 10 years ago. I would sneak over to buy reading material from him to pass long hours at work. Rory was that emporium of approachable knowledge that could always find the book you needed. I moved away but I could always count on seeing him at cons with that strangely intimidating smile. And just as I’m packing to move back thinking it’ll be great to get over to comic relief, I here that the legendary bookstore is down one legend. You’ll be sorely missed Rory. My heart goes out to everyone that carries his memory.

• 21 D.J. Schiff // May 20, 2008 at 5:41 pm

  I just was sent a link from a friend, and am still in shock. Rory was such a good guy, and I always looked forward to seeing him at the store or at the Wondercon. I have many happy memories of Rory. He’d remember my passion for European “clear line” artists, and would always mention to me if a new item from Joost Swarte had come in the store. He happilly bought copies of my self-published comicbook for the store. And his love for books of all kinds was clear: I remember my delight in finding a copy of James Joyce’s Finnegans Wake among the shelves of superhero comics. He knew me by name, and I was thilled to be invied to the recent anniversary party at the store. The last time I saw Rory was at the last Wondercon. I was showing a friend (a librarian and comics newbie) around the floor, and when I got to the Comic relief booth, I said, “If you want the best comics store in the Bay Area, go here, and if you have questions, go see him.” And I pointed to Rory, seated on his perch at the end of the booth. I miss you, Rory, but I’m glad for all the joy you brought to me and others.

• 22 Brent // May 20, 2008 at 5:43 pm

  Rory conned me into comics again. I’d kind of given up on the medium, tired of reading how Wolverine won over Jean Grey and boo-hoo, poor Cyclops and — OMG JEAN’S DEAD!

  Really? Again?

  Sure, it’s an extreme example to the repetition that is often the hallmark of comics, that which chases even long-time readers away. But the point remains.

  So, one day, I’m in Comic Relief, browsing through the racks as I would before simply leaving. Rory intercepted me, we got to talking. He handed me a couple trades, said I needn’t pay, just check ‘em out.

  Conned me, damnit. He sucked me back in, and I never did quite forgive him… though, for several years afterward, we did have some amazing talks.

  Ah, I won’t go into that stuff. Anyway: Rory, I’ll miss seeing you hanging out in front of the shop, the recommendations, the insider stuff and all the rest. Rest easy.

• 23 Steve B // May 20, 2008 at 5:58 pm

  I only met Rory once, but it was enough to leave an indelible impression on me. Though we were technically “peers,” both running acclaimed comic book stores, he was larger-than-life, mythic, and I knew that I was in the presence of greatness. Rory’s legacy is a testament to the power of comics to transform lives, and everyone who was touched by knowing him — at Comic Relief, conventions or industry seminars — will never be the same. Safe travels, Rory — you’ll not be needing that cane again, and your coffee mug will never be empty again.

• 24 Mark Finn // May 20, 2008 at 6:04 pm

  When I worked for Chessex back in the mid-90’s, I was sent out to Berkeley to the manufacturing facility with my friend and co-worker. He’d been on the ground for a few months already, and so when I got to town, the very first thing we did was go to Comic Relief. “You’ve got to see this store,” Weldon said, “and you’ve got to meet Rory.”

  And meet him, I did. He immediately welcomed me to his corner of the world, and smiled indulgently as I stumbled through that shotgun shack of a store on University, agog in the complete-ness of it all.

  Comic Relief became an island of sanity for the two of us, as we got to know the staff and spent a huge chunk of time in the store once a week, swapping stories and checking out new things. But it was Rory who pulled us in, like a magnet. He saw that we were fish out of water, and he welcomed us into his “family” in that wonderful way that Geeks do for one another. We talked over dinner, waxed philosophic, and spent a large chunk of time talking comics, movies, science fiction, creative thinking, small business, and Bezerkley, not necessarily in that order.

  Rory “Big Brother”ed us, acting as guide and mentor, during our year or so of work there. I know I couldn’t have made it without him. And I was infinitely richer for having known him.

  Rory and I exchanged emails over the years, staying in touch, keeping abreast of things. But I hadn’t spoken to him in a couple of years (my fault, moving around). The news came out of left field. I’m sorry he’s gone. I’m sorry I never got back to Berkeley to see him again. I know the world just got a little bit darker; we lost a great, giving light.

  Rest in peace, Good Sir. You have earned it.

• 25 Derek McCulloch // May 20, 2008 at 6:43 pm

  I first met Rory in 1985, when I moved to the Bay Area. He was still at Best of Two Worlds then, and I believe it was he who made the decision to carry the comics I was publishing. I knew him from BOTW and from conventions, then socially, then he got me a job at Capital City, then I quit that job and he gave me a job at Comic Relief (I was the very first “new hire”), then years later when I came back to town after a long sojourn elsewhere, I was his housemate (or rent-paying houseguest, depending on how you look at it) for something like four months. We had a long, complex personal relationship.

  We had some ups and downs. It hurts to say it now, but I had a huge falling out with Rory and because I can be a very stubborn and hard-hearted person, I didn’t speak to him for close to ten years. He didn’t hold that sort of grudge but, well, I did, and I very deliberately cut him out of my life.

  A few years back I started getting involved with the comics business again, and I knew it was inevitable that I would come into contact with Rory. As the comments all over the Internet today demonstrate, running into him virtually inevitable if you wanted to have anything to do with comics. In 2006, I was in San Diego, attending Comic-con. I was about to enter the ballroom for the Eisner Awards dinner when I saw Rory standing in front of me at the door. I thought for a second of ducking him, but decided to be a grown-up instead. I said, “Hey Rory.” He turned, broke out a grin, and said, “Derek! Where are you sitting? Come sit at my table, we’ve got an extra chair.” It was as though I’d last seen him the day before, not ten years before. We got drunk together on his drink tickets and had a splendid night.

  In the two years that followed, I did several events at his store and we split several bottles of decent scotch. He never made mention of that ten-year interval, and I figured it was best to forgive and forget myself. Because - and it’s moments like this that bring home the truths in the big clichés - life’s too short. It’s a hard lesson to learn, but I’m glad I didn’t learn it too late.

• 26 Sean "Goblin" Aaberg // May 20, 2008 at 6:58 pm

  I don’t like comic book people but i liked Rory Root. Big men hold the world together. RIP.

• 27 Francisca // May 20, 2008 at 7:15 pm

  Rory, my friend going back 20 years now, didn’t just sell to libraries, he was a secret (maybe not so secret?) librarian–the kind who can always find the right book at the right time for the person in front of him. We used to do book talks together, these past five or six years: for kids, for adults, for librarians. We developed some obvious schticks: the big guy with the big heart and the opinionated old woman. And we had fun (even though he was nervous beforehand every single time and I’d have to fill him with carbs–Italian in neighborhoods that didn’t have Indian).

  But Rory was also very much my friend, way beyond our professional association, and that is why my heart is breaking–and why I am forever grateful that there was indeed time my last week in Berkeley, back in November, for us to eat lunch, trade complaints and boasts–and what to read next suggestions, of course.

  And yes, it was Rory who gave my own kid his first comics.

• 28 Rebecca R. // May 20, 2008 at 7:59 pm

  I’m so sad to hear of Rory’s passing. He is one of the reasons Berkeley is such a great town. When I moved here in 1988 with my baby in tow, Comic Relief (back when it was on University, I believe) became one of my favorite places to visit. Rory was always so welcoming, interesting, and patient with my many questions about silly stuff I probably should have already known. My son, who is now twenty, grew up going to Comic Relief. He and Rory had many a conversation while he was growing up. Rory always treated him with respect and gave him all the time in the world when answering his questions, from age four up until very recently. His presence has always been a part of my son’s “growing up in Berkeley” good memories. There is no one who can compatre to Rory. He will be so very sorely missed. My condolences to his family, friends, and co-workers and to the Berkeley comic-loving community at large. He is a thread in the fabric of what is great about Berkeley. We love you, Rory. Thank you for everything. You’ve added to my son’s happiness whether you ever realized it or not. I wish I had told you this sooner. Rest in peace, you wonderfully awesome man! Love, Rebecca

• 29 Justus Pang // May 20, 2008 at 8:15 pm

  Even though I’m not sure if Rory would recognize me since I was never a regular visitor, he is the guy who got me into comics. Growing up I read comics in the public library, but it was Comic Relief and our random discussions that really got me to take the medium seriously. His great innovation was to open a comic shop which emphasized the bound books (instead of periodicals) and let people just walk in and browse – like a normal bookstore.

  As long as you didn’t sit on the ground you could hang out there as long as you want and read as much as you could (I read the whole Sandman series in old location standing up). And as an undergrad I bought maybe $10 worth of comics at his store for my first three years there (though my conscience is clear since I have since purchased an unconscionable amount of books since!) Even then, as a college freeloader he was always very nice and totally cool with me visiting his store.

  He was a great evangelist for the medium, but he would often manage to find ways for getting me to spend much more than I ever planned when I visited. He introduced me to Will Eisner, Igort, Dave McKean, Gaiman’s early work, and a host of other authors. He would talk about all kinds of books and backed it all up by providing a legitimate bookstore with an incredible variety of stuff to find and discover every visit. Even after moving to Houston I must admit that many of his recommendations still drive my reading habits. Comic Relief was and hopefully will continue to be always a highlight of any visit back to Berkeley. As a personality, Rory and the other small businessmen who make daily life personal and enjoyable are the reason why I plan to move back to Berkeley as soon as I can. He will be sorely missed by the community.

  I last saw him in San Diego last summer. I was visiting an old friend and apparently it was the same weekend as Comicon. He was with some of his buddies at Fillipi’s so I decided not to break in on their dinner; now I wish I had, but then again I am still thankful that my last memory of Rory is seeing him enjoy dinner with his friends.

• 30 Rantz Hoseley // May 20, 2008 at 8:16 pm

  I didn’t get to meet Rory in person until this last year, but it seems like all of my adult comicbook life, he’s been around it, or involved in it in some way.
  In the mid-90’s my former roommate and I made a ‘what the hell’ trip up to the bay area… just to kick around, go shopping at swap meets and comic shops, and generally good around. I had heard about Comic Relief of course, through the pages of Cerebus, when Dave Sim would go on tour, and he’d always mention Comic Relief and it seemed like the bay area had to be some kind of comic book nirvana. On that trip, Andrew took me to Comic Relief and I was just flat out floored. I’d never seen a comic shop with such a massive, extensive variety of ALL kinds of comics, not to mention the whole vibe of the store. It blew me away, and really gave me an appreciation for Rory’s vision of what comics could be.
  I had ‘run into’ Rory multiple times online for years, going all the way back to the compuserve message boards, and most recently on Warren Ellis’ Engine forum. He and I had ‘talked’ on the forum, and emailed back and forth a couple times, and I was always touched and felt very blessed at his kindness, his sense of humor, and the deep level of knowledge, both practical and that special kind of intuitive knowledge which can come from imagination that he did not keep to himself, or parse out in tiny dabs… instead he gave freely and often, believing that if comics as a WHOLE were better across the board, then it could only benefit everyone.
  A year ago I was in Berkeley to meet with image and my flight was VERY early, so I spent a good three hours browsing Comic Relief… really having that sensation at 40 years old of being a kid in a candy store. I saw Rory online a couple weeks later and mentioned I had been in the store, and he chastised me for not letting him know ahead of time so he would have known and taken me to lunch. When I tried to beg off, saying I didn’t want to be a bother, Rory wouldn’t hear of it. He told me,” Next time you’re in town you BETTER let me know, no excuses, ok?” I promised I would, touched that he even remembered who I was, much less that he was actually disappointed that we didn’t get to meet up while I was in the store.
  Later that year, at the San Diego con, Derek introduced us in person at an Image/CBLDF get together, and he treated me like an old friend, hitting it off immediately. At Wondercon this year, I was only able to attend for half a day, and was bummed that I didn’t have time to go by and say hi to Rory, but I thought to myself, ‘Well, I’ll see him at SDCC, and we’ll catch up and have drinks and BS then, when it’s not so crazy” Now, I really wish that I had taken the time and stopped and said hello and caught up with him a bit.
  Rory, bless you man. I hope you know how deeply you touched everyone in this crazy funnybook biz, and how terribly you are missed. You’re unforgettable, and irreplaceable. Thank you.

• 31 Liz Schiller // May 20, 2008 at 8:21 pm

  I met Rory in 1983 or 1984, my first year at Berkeley. I had started reading comics in a desultory fashion because of my participation in a comics APA (amateur press association: like a collaborative website or forum, except on paper and sent through the mail because we didn’t have personal computers or the internet then). I wandered into Best of Two Worlds one afternoon and he put some things in my hands, probably Elfquest (which I was already reading) and Cerebus and eventually Beanworld. As others have written, he had an uncanny sense for matching people with just the right reading material. Much later, I got a reputation for knowing about the best comics among some friends in part because of the great stuff he had put into my hands.

  He was just part of my life for the twelve years I lived in the Bay Area. I didn’t have a lot of money, but he gave me a discount card after I became something of a comic book pro, part of the publishing empire that was Strawberry Jam Comics. We put out a dozen or so black and white books in the late 80s. He employed my then-husband, Derek McCulloch, when Comic Relief opened. We didn’t have a car, so he did the driving when we went to the single best concert I have ever attended, Bruce Springsteen, on the Tunnel of Love Express tour.

  I didn’t ask much of him, except once. In the early 90s, after I finally graduated, my mother gave me her performance guitar, a Martin 00 steel string that she had used my whole life when she sang on stage. It was at my parents’ place near L.A. and I was still in Oakland, though. I went down to San Diego for the con, spent Sunday night sleeping on the floor in the Comic Relief hotel suite (Rory was a champion snorer, incidentally), and then helped drive the van back to Northern California. In return, Rory agreed that I could drive it out of the way by about two hours to pick up the guitar. He made a face, but that was his only objection. And he didn’t toss me out of the van when I nearly had an accident going around a freeway ramp curve at slightly faster than the speed limit. (Lesson learned: when driving a van fully loaded with paper goods, speed limit signs are your friends.)

  Rory was part of the fabric of comics. I wish I’d spent more time just chatting with him, but usually I had places to go and things to do. I wish I’d seen him recently… I can’t recall the last time I saw him, but it had been at least several years. I wish I’d told him how much I appreciated him. He left us way, way too soon, but my god, the man left a legacy.

• 32 the munchkin // May 20, 2008 at 10:13 pm

  Although I’ve stopped by the new store many times over the years — often just to gaze at the two kitties napping in the window — I never met Rory Root personally until Free Comic Book day several weeks ago. I’d seen him wandering the floor at a number of cons, though. He had a quiet but imposing air, and I have to say I was intimidated by his presence. (For those not in the know, he was a statuesque, heavyset man with a flowing red hair and beard, sporting a hat and a cane. If he’d been a bouncer at the Prancing Pony, the Nazgul wouldn’t have stood a chance.)

  Then on Free Comic Book Day, asked by a friend to pick up all the free comics I could grab, I approached the table in the back. There was Rory, half hidden by a crowd of teenagers browsing the new offerings. Far from the scowling presence I’d imagined, he gave me the most cheerful and honestly welcoming smile I’ve ever received from any human being, as if I were an old friend returning from a foreign war. After my initial impressions of him, it came as a shock. He seemed so peaceful and happy sitting there among his treasures, perhaps heartened that young people were still interested enough in comic books to enjoy Free Comic Book Day.

  Then, on my way out, I browsed through a new graphic novel called “The Rabbi’s Cat”. Where else but a great bookstore would you happen upon a title like that, just sitting out waiting to be discovered? This is part of what makes Comic Relief special: the joy of serendipity that you might never experience at an online bookstore.

  Thank you, Rory Root, for providing such joy to so many, and for keeping the literary tradition alive. And thanks for the smile.

• 33 Michael Ring // May 20, 2008 at 10:22 pm

  I met Rory around 10 years ago at a SDCC when I was working for a publisher. He was kind, gracious and, as everyone else has said, at no loss for words, even as he spoke to an almost complete stranger. When I decided to open up my own store, Comic Relief was one of the biggest influences on me; here was a comic BOOKSTORE! This was a place that celebrated the art form much more than the “grab it, put it in plastic and store it away” mentality. Rory was always about finding the good books and getting them into people’s hands.

  I’ve learned a lot from Rory over the years and I’m sad that we’ve lost such an important person. The world was dealt a blow by Rory’s passing but it’s been offset somewhat by the fact that he’s helped to inspire not just creators and readers, but a whole new generation of retailers that will evangelize and keep alive his beloved art form.

  Thanks for everything, Rory. We’ll do our best to keep the torch burning.

• 34 Mike Berry // May 20, 2008 at 10:50 pm

  Comic Relief has always been an integral part of what makes Berkeley special, a town worth residing in despite its many headaches. I must have started shopping there soon after it opened on University Avenue, and I stopped in only last Saturday. It’s still one of America’s best bookstores.

  Rory was always friendly and helpful and kind enough to comment on the occasional comics reviews I contribute to The Chronicle. Although I didn’t know him well, I’ll miss him greatly. I send my deepest condolences to his family and friends.

• 35 David Goldfarb // May 21, 2008 at 12:29 am

  Like some of the other Berkeley kids who’ve posted, I don’t remember exactly when I first met Rory. It was at “Best of Two Worlds”, and must have been sometime in the early ’80s. I’d have been 12 or 13, a kid; he was 22 or 23, an adult. Now I’m 40 and he was 50. Funny how 10 years diminishes with time. Since I was a regular customer of his from the early ’80s, I sometimes say that I was shopping at Comic Relief before it opened.

  I don’t usually go to Free Comic Book Day; having been a reader of comics all my life, I feel I’m not the target audience. Last year Rory set aside a copy of each of the different books anyway, and gave them to me when I went in for my weekly fix. That was generous and thoughtful and very characteristic of him.

  In all honesty I can’t say we were friends. Rory himself drew a distinction between “friends” and “friendly customers”. A friend is part of your social life, while a friendly customer is friendly in the context of a business relationship; I was always on the other side of that line. We were both OK with that.

  That said, I knew him and liked him, and he knew me and liked me, for two and a half decades, and I feel his loss intensely. He watched me grow up…helped me grow up. We talked about all manner of things, from the Legion to sleep apnea (an ailment we shared). I can hardly believe I’ll never again hear his cheerful tenor.

• 36 Mike J. // May 21, 2008 at 12:42 am

  I have spent (or misspent) a big part of my life in just about all the comic book stores in the Bay Area, and have spent a large part of that time in Comic Relief. I only know Rory Root in that setting, and not a personal one, but always felt that his store expressed him… full and welcoming. He had a passion for comics that made him want to be sure that one and all went along for the ride.
  The one distinct memory I have is when looking for the first half of Steve Niles’ Giant Monster, not having gotten it from my home shop, I was talking to him and he asked for my contact info if it came back in. Bear in mind this was at the back of the shop, and nowhere near the special request book. This was long after the book disappeared from stores and before any plans of reprint. Telling him I was heading to another shop and might find it there, he just shrugged and said, if I found it, buy, but he’d still look. I gave him my info, but did find the book elsewhere. Three weeks later, I got a call, saying it was in if I wanted. I called to thank the shop for getting it and declined the book.
  I like knowing that a retailer in this world cares enough about a casual customer to make that effort.
  I am sad to think that the world is now without a man who embodies that and who instilled that in his shop and those who work with him.
  May his spirit stay with us all.

• 37 David Lasky // May 21, 2008 at 1:21 am

  When I was 22, and a wannabe cartoonist, serendipity placed me in Berkeley, California, far from the east coast where I grew up. Though I didn’t know any other cartoonists, I was lucky enough to be staying just a bike ride away from the best comic book store I have ever known. I was in Berkeley as a visitor, planning to stay maybe a month and then head back to Virginia. That is, until the night I walked past Comic Relief and saw the fliers on the window advertising a signing by the Hernandez Brothers. The signing was still two months away. It’s no exaggeration to say that I decided right then and there, on the sidewalk in front of the darkened store, that I was going to reside in the Bay Area . I ended up living in the area for over a year, and Comic Relief became the place where I learned what was great about comics. I discovered Jacques Tardi, Arcade, Lt Blueberry, Franz Masreel, Eightball, Dirty Plotte, the mini-comics of Jason Lutes (and later on Adrian Tomine), and many other eye-openers there in 1990 and ‘91. And not only were these books “in stock”, every book was showcased with its cover on display. I was thrilled to meet the Hernandez Brothers at their signing, and later Bill Griffith and Robert Williams.

  The very first mini-comics I ever self-published were sold on consignment at Comic Relief. No other store was really willing to take them.

  I don’t remember when I met Rory. It was probably after I’d left for Seattle and began to make a name for myself in comics. I’ve never been a major player in the industry, but somehow Rory has always recognized me, or recognized my name, and treated me as if I was someone major. My favorite memory is the time I visited his store with comics to sell –probably around 1998 — and he was behind the front counter. He said: “Why don’t we step into my office.” I looked around, wondering where his office could possibly be. Of course, we stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of the store, where he had a half-smoked cigarette stashed away, and we did our business there.

  I can’t remember the last time I saw him. But I remember seeing him the week after 9-11, and how he’d stopped by the “Left Coast SPX” party. I was as shaken as the rest of America that week, and was wondering to myself if I ever really wanted to draw again. I remember spending several hours in Comic Relief, looking through all those great art books and imported comics I couldn’t really afford, flipping through the mini-comic bins, searching obsessively for a reason to go on as an artist. And of course, at the store into which Rory had put so much of his knowledge, enthusiasm, and good taste, I found it .

• 38 Jamie Fraser-Paige // May 21, 2008 at 4:18 am

  Rory was a staple at both Thanksgiving and Passover at my goddaughter’s place. His charisma, erudite wit and bonhomie — all in appropriate extra-large doses — was wonderful to be around and caused me to look forward to those occasions with more than the usual anticipation. I was always sorry we didn’t get to spend more time together .

  I considered Rory a family member, part of the chosen family that many of us formed out here at the edge of the continent.

  When I learned of his passing — at a very early hour on Tuesday — I was stunned and, big tough guy that I am, I cried. The thought that there will be no friendly struggle for who took the larger share of chopped liver leftovers home is truly devastating.

  In so many ways, he will be missed. I offer my sincere condolences to his birth family and the extended family I was proud to be part of.

• 39 Brandon Dawley // May 21, 2008 at 8:20 am

  I was at this shop once in 2000. I didn’t remember the name of the shop but once I saw Rory’s pic in these various blogs that singular moment came flashing back to me. what a memorable character. I was in there looking for something new to read. He asked me what my favorite title was at the time and I told him Queen & Country. He then walked me down to the graphic novels and handed me Astronauts In Trouble TPB. I believe he said something to the effect that I would not be disappointed. So, I bought it. Days after digesting AiT I remember thinking “that big guy at that comic shop really knew what he was talking about”. I was not disappointed. It is nice to know that I have had this sliver of a moment with, Rory Root: One of the Smartest Retailers in Comics.

• 40 Rob Ruddell // May 21, 2008 at 10:21 am

  Back in 1983, I walked into the store on Telegraph Ave. I had never bought a comic in my life. Rory Root was behind the register and suggested I buy Daredevil. It was the Death of Electra issue. I have been a comic fan ever since. Rory was the man who started it all for me. I’ve had numerous conversations with him about comics, in fact a couple of years ago I went into Comic Relief to buy some GN’s for my classroom and he spent an hour with me hand picking books that he wanted my kids to read. 2 or 3 of them he just gave to me as a gift for the school. He was a kind and thoughtful retailer and a friend to comics. I only wish I could have mentioned to him his role in my becoming a lifelong comic fan.

• 41 Chris Juricich // May 21, 2008 at 11:23 am

  When I lived in San Francisco, I would occasionally make the trip to Berkeley for some event or another–but when I first discovered Rory’s shop, I just remember the amazing feeling I had on two other major moments in my life comics-related 1) rediscovering comics in 1966 at the Burlingame Smoke Shop which got me started officially as a total comics geek 2)discovering Gary Arlington’s comic shop on 23rd St in SF in 1971 or so (my 1st comic book shop visit ever) and 3) finding Rory’s shop sometime in the very late 80s for the first time.

  I respect Rory Root in large part for his amazing comics acumen and for his love of comics which he kept up by managing to keep his store open to the public in spite of the obstacles he had to deal with over the years. He was a true advocate of the form and I wish his friends and family my best condolences.

• 42 Scigrrl // May 21, 2008 at 11:28 am

  Like so many here, Rory was my first comic book store guy, and i had no idea how lucky i was. As a 10-year Bay Area ex-pat longing to come home, Rory was always good for an e-mail update of my favorite restaurants and bookstores, and just the right salve for homesickness.

  He always made me cry when he’d write “We’ll keep a light on for you.”

  Right here next to me is a print of Gaiman’s Death sitting on a mausoleum inscribed “Only Mortals Die Forever” from ‘90. Rory sent it to me with an order a few years back and i’ve had it framed in my bedroom since. It has always brought me comfort as a gift from him, but never moreso than now. If anyone’s Immortal, it’s that guy.

  Rory, i’ll always keep a light on for you, man.

• 43 Rory Root. at David Maybury | Blog // May 21, 2008 at 12:02 pm

  [...] he was: PII, Tom, Warren Ellis, Brian Hibbs, Neil Gaiman, Mark Evanier and dozens more on the Comic Relief dedicated [...]

• 44 T.Crane // May 21, 2008 at 12:24 pm

  Rory, you will be missed. My condolences to your family and close friends. I began coming to his store when I was a teenager obsessed with zines and indie comics, we used to skip school and drive into Berkeley. Rory did much to support independent artists. One of the most amazing things about him was how he treated everyone with respect and equally, you never knew which snot-nosed kid would become the next industry professional, and many of his friends have. I’ll never forget his early support of my work as well as that of our friends, we all owe him a debt of gratitude.

  Rory was one in a million. The proof is in the wonderful store he ran, and the circle of people surrounding him.

• 45 Eric Sadoyama // May 21, 2008 at 12:34 pm

  Rory was the guy who got me reading comics in college. I’d wandered into The Best of Two Worlds, and Rory had struck up a conversation with me. Eventually he pressed a copy of SWAMP THING into my hand, at no charge. “If you don’t like it,” he said, “then just come back and return it.” He knew he wasn’t taking much of a gamble. The next day I was back, all right — he’d gotten himself a new customer. That was almost 25 years ago. I haven’t seen him in more than 10 years but I’m still sorry to know he’s gone.

• 46 Branwyn Bigglestone // May 21, 2008 at 3:28 pm

  Even though I’ve spent much of the last few days at Comic Relief, online, or on the phone talking about all of this, it’s still been very difficult for me to put anything into words. I’ve know Rory for over 30 years, starting as just a dude my parents were friends with, to an employer, and to being one of my own friends. In a nutshell, he was a very sweet, caring, knowledgeable, infuriating man. It seems like everyone in the comics and gaming industries knew him, but there is a special fraternity of people who have worked for him. I don’t know if I have a particular point with that – I just feel it needs to be said.

  Anyway, thank you Rory for your friendship and understanding, and for giving me a job off-and-on for the past 17 years. The existence of Comic Relief, and the influence it and the people associated with it have had on me, are a tremendous part of who I am today, I think for the better.

  I think that’s as coherent as I’m going to get right now.

• 47 Rick Markell // May 21, 2008 at 4:05 pm

  Rory was one of the most genuine people I ever met in the industry.
  He was absolutely selfless in his support of artists and publishers alike.
  His enthusiasm was infectious and unrestrained, but above all sincere.
  I will miss our chats and the sense of community he fostered.
  Peace.

• 48 Ted Duffield // May 21, 2008 at 4:54 pm

  I’ve known Rory as a customer since the days he was an employee at Best of Two Worlds. He was always friendly and helpful, especially when I was trying to track down some difficult-to-find item. He even let me buy a comic that he had put aside for his own collection once (I think it was an issue of Pogo Possum by Walt Kelly). Having lived in the Bay Area for many years, I’m afraid I had come to take Rory’s presence for granted. Now it’s painfully clear that his passing will leave a huge hole.

  I am glad to hear that the store will continue. There could be no finer legacy, though I have to admit it’s going to be tough the first time I walk through those doors knowing I won’t see his face.

• 49 Mike Banks // May 21, 2008 at 5:14 pm

  Rory was instrumental in helping me to become a comic book retailer. At industry events other retailers were like moths to his flame. You just wanted to be around him to soak up his knowledge and passion about the comic book industry. Rory was one of the first retailers we spoke to when my wife Moryha and I decided to open Samurai Comics. Comic Relief was the store we aspired to be. So many things we’ve done in our stores has come out of trying to emulate this great man and his equally great store. Our school and library programs are a direct result of a conversation I had with Rory way back in the day.

  I am stunned and saddened at his passing. The thoughts of all of us at Samurai go out to Rory’s family, friends, and really the comic industry as a whole. We truly did lose one of the greats.

  Mike Banks
  Samurai Comics

• 50 ElizabethGenco.com » thinking of rory // May 21, 2008 at 6:10 pm

  [...] Relief has a wonderful memories page up. Heidi linked to some other stuff. Add to: document.write(”Del.icio.us”) | Digg it | [...]

• 51 Marilynn Denn // May 21, 2008 at 9:59 pm

  Rory always felt like part of our family,Two of my children worked with him in the 80’s,and the connection was maintained. He was a special person of great generosity of spirit and will be missed by many.

• 52 Tyler Herron // May 21, 2008 at 10:22 pm

  I don’t think I ever really met Rory but the comic shop he created was a place of comfort for me during my short time at the University. I will be eternally thankful for good memories he gave me and the haven his shop provided.

• 53 CK // May 21, 2008 at 11:59 pm

  Rory was one of the best. I remember one Bay Area Artist who had done some work for local role playing game back in the late 80’s, ripped him off to go buy drugs and when the scumbag was caught with his goods by the police, Rory didn’t press charges. A true gentleman with a heart of gold.

• 54 Debbie Notkin // May 22, 2008 at 12:03 pm

  I put up a brief memoir here, which is perhaps notable because I knew Rory primarily as a customer in my store (and a friend) more than as a proprietor in his store.

• 55 Brad Bankston // May 22, 2008 at 12:46 pm

  Reposted from the Austin Books blog:

  Sad news reached me Monday evening as I heard my friend and mentor, Rory Root, had passed away. ‘Sad’ actually doesn’t quite fit the bill. I still feel like I was punched in the chest.

  Rory Root was the owner of Comic Relief in Berkeley, CA, and good will ambassador for the entire comic book industry. If you ever spent time on the online forums, you’ve read his posts, always positive and championing the art form. If you have ever trekked to any of the West Coast conventions, you saw Rory with his ever present fedora, cane and stein of coffee (later tea), surrounded by the largest and most diverse set-up in the room. If you ever spent time with me discussing stocking strategies or genre racking, you no doubt heard me mention his name with reverence.

  I first heard of Rory and Comic Relief from former Austin Bookster Mark Finn and friend Weldon Adams when they returned in 1997 from working in Berkeley. They spoke of this almost mythic man and his amazing store filled with out-of-print and hard-to-find treasures. They told stories of his involvement in the Direct Line Group (DLG), DC Retailer Representative Program (RRP), San Diego Comic-Con (SDCC) and other tales that made a young retailer dream of the ‘big time’. Surely they couldn’t all be true. They were.

  I got to meet Rory at the Dallas DC RRP in 2002. I approached him feeling that I needed to mention Mark and Weldon as an ‘in’. I didn’t, but it gave us something to discuss as we started our six-year friendship. He accepted me immediately and began to tell me stories of ‘the twins’ time in Berkeley. Of how they all went out to eat “Texas Style” barbecue (in California, mind you), the long talks of the market differences between the two states, movies and science-fiction novels. It didn’t take long for me to feel like I knew him well.

  Over the next few years, I’d email or call Rory on various occasions when I needed advice. He always made the time. Eventually, I learned that I could even predict future trends in Austin by studying the current patterns in his store. (I laugh as I remember the tiny trade paperback section that we had at that time – when his business was pushing 50% collected material.) He was a trailblazer.

  For the last four years, I’d stop by his booth at SDCC for the ever-necessary updates and to say ‘hello’. I’d often stand outside the convention center with him while he smoked (which he later quit) or find a seat by him at any of the retailer seminars just to see if I could squeeze out extra bits of retail and sales knowledge. He was so proud when Comic Relief moved to the new location on Shattuck that he kept showing everyone “baby pictures” of the new store. It was also during this time that he ushered me through our difficult employee problems. After all, he’d been there before.

  After falling short of the Eisner Spirit of Retailing Award in both 2006 and 2007, I received calls from Rory to discuss my presentations. He went over the specifics of the videos and notebooks while, I think, actually just trying to make me feel better. It worked. He reminded me how far we’d come as a store and our place on the larger stage of this industry. That’s all it took to make me want to enter again.

  My last opportunity to interact with Rory was at the DC RRP this past February. This time it was being held in Austin. I had the opportunity to share REAL Texas barbecue with him — something that delighted him to no end. In fact, his flight was to arrive later than the bbq tour was scheduled to start so he called me a week in advance to arrange a ride to join the festivities. I happily agreed to pick up both he and his store manager, Todd Martinez, at the airport (actually unnecessary as the tour bus was able to pick them up). That call was a joyful celebration of food, drink and the opportunity for us to again spend time with our retail friends. We spoke for hours about all of the cool places to visit in Austin, the likely DC programming and my anxiety over dozens of retailers visiting my store (still in the midst of remodeling). On the final day of the RRP, I offered to take Rory and Todd to the airport. On the way, we stopped by Austin Books to give Todd a tour. While there, Rory started holding court and selling books to customers and even my staff. He had a small group of people gather around him while he talked about the best in comics. His passion for this medium was clear and evident. That’s how I’ll remember him.

  I’m better for having known him and I miss him already.

  –Brad Bankston
  Austin Books & Comics

• 56 Guy Thomas // May 22, 2008 at 3:29 pm

  I’m not sure that if you had asked Rory whether I was a friend or not that he would have thought of me as a friend. We didn’t really hang out together. In fact, there were years that went by without me seeing or hearing from him. However I thought of him as my friend.

  I met him over comic book long boxes at The Best of Both Worlds (wow, I think that’s what it was called. As I write this I’m not completely sure.) Anyway, it was a comic book store that lived on Telegraph Ave. in Berkeley. I was new to California. Having just moved back from Illinois in 1980. It was a pretty low point in my life. I had flunked out of SIU. I wasn’t sure what I was doing or what I could do. I felt alone and I felt like a failure. Rory was the first person who seemed to notice me. I went to his comic book store (I’m pretty sure he didn’t own that store, but in my mind it was his) to pick up my X-Men, Spiderman and Fantastic Four comics. He would invariably talk me into buying some other title I had not heard of before. I would almost always love it. So my comic book buying soon busted my budget. However I enjoyed them so much.

  We would often talk about comics, that turned into talking about science fiction, that turned into talking about local politics etc. etc. We tended to agree with each other on most things except we always seemed to get there from very different routes. And the times we didn’t agree the conversations were even more fun.

  I can’t really think of anything particular to mention about him except that I will always be thankful for his easy friendship and for all the stories that I read that I would never have read if he hadn’t pointed them out to me. Things like: Bone, Zot, Why I Hate Saturn, Love and Rockets or Optic Nerve. I will miss him very much

• 57 Mark Bode // May 22, 2008 at 4:10 pm

  I had the pleasure of meeting Rorys mom and his sister last year at a APE after party at the shop and was takin by how cool a family he had.It was a an honor and a thrill to meet them after i had known Rory for nearly the whole time ive been professional in comics field .. I have been a cartoonist for 30 years and its a roller coaster of feast and famine, Rory was always there for me and my family when we were in rough times. And would buy our stuff wether he needed it or not. He is a true patron of the arts in the best and kindest way and i owe my bro Rory much in this life and the after. I lost my mother Barbara Bode Falcon last year and this year isnt so good either for friends and family in our circle. Listen to your dreams and he will be there when you need him he may not be here in the flesh but his love and energy is there for you always when you want it. Love and respect to the family Rory loved so much. If there is a badge of honor for greatness in the arts and just being a all around great person Rory is wearin that puppy right now.. cant say anymore it hurts too much.. your pal always , Mark Bode

• 58 dylan williams // May 22, 2008 at 5:07 pm

  I don’t know if I can listen to this right now but some day:
  http://www.morethanweimagine.com/podcasts/IRC23.mp3

• 59 Kathleen Hunt // May 22, 2008 at 5:25 pm

  Rory Root was my friend. Yes, he was a comics visionary and an inveterate gamer, but the most important thing to me was that he was my friend. Sure, he loved comics and books and games, but that wasn’t all. He was so much more than that.

  Memories of him clamor for attention - which to choose? The times we went to a Mexican restaurant in Oakland (now long gone), so we could tease my sister about her flirtation with the waiter? We planned our trips - once or twice a week at that point - around the waiter’s schedule, then he and I gleefully dissected their every interaction. She squirmed and blushed and protested - until we got home afterwards, and the three of us would set a date for the next time.

  Maybe I should write about his affection for cats, like Pia, the cat he’d rescued from a Berkeley pet store to be our first Comic Relief mascot and who became queen of the place for 16 years. Rory was just like the Chinese emperor in the story, the one who would cut off his sleeve rather than disturb the cat sleeping on it. He adored his cat
  Oolong for every one of the twenty-three years she had him, but there was plenty of love left in his heart for Shelby, the stray that adopted him.

  Or perhaps it’s the way I waited for his first taste of chopped liver every year at Passover; I could always count on him to tell me if it was right, or if I’d overcooked it again. Other people would be polite or tactful: Rory would be honest. He knew it was a trait I cherished.

  In that same spirit, I’ll be honest here: Rory and I didn’t always get along easily, especially during the time I worked with him (and later, for him) in my teens and twenties. He drove me absolutely crazy sometimes, and I know he felt the same way about me. We’re both - we were both - opinionated people, perfectionist to a fault, often sure of ourselves when we have least reason to be. We both like - liked - to have the last word, and we both had plenty to say on any given
  topic. And stubborn . . . well, he was stubborn. Me, I was just a little obstinate. Yeah, yeah, that’s it, just a little obstinate. (I can hear his voice saying that last sentence, the smile in his voice
  even coloring the accent he’d put on.) Anyway, it’s not surprising that we would clash, with so much in common. It didn’t really matter, though. No matter how annoyed we were with each other, we always knew that it had nothing to do with our friendship. Nearly all of our visits and conversations ended with expressed affection on both sides, whether or not we’d been passionately “debating” a topic ten minutes
  earlier. (Actually, come to think of it, we hardly fought at all in the last ten years - maybe we both grew up a little?) He knew I loved him, and he loved me. I’ll always be glad of that.

  Rory introduced me to more than I can possibly list: new people, new foods, new games, new music, new books . . . there were always new
  books. I’m reasonably well-read, but I could never keep up with Rory. Actually, I remember how thrilled I was, four or five years ago, when
  I actually discovered a new book series before him. I lent it to him, of course; he laughed to see me puffing up with pride, but there was affection and understanding under the amusement.

  In Rory’s memory, I will drink hot tea (his favorite beverage, carried everywhere in an enormous mug) and wine (which he always supplied for festive occasions). I’ll eat . . . what? Maybe a blueberry ring, like the one he always brought to the shop on Christmas Day; or Indian
  food, from his favorite Indian restaurant in Berkeley; or perhaps just some dark chocolate and sharp cheeses, his favorites among the many
  foods he loved.

  For 33 years, Rory has been part of my life. At Thanksgiving, at Passover, at the store, at home . . . and now, as another dear friend put it, there’s “a Rory-sized empty space.” I miss you, dear friend. While I’m listening to your Celtic music, or watching (yes, finally!) your favorite TV show The Wire, I offer this - these halting words of
  my own, and then some, written by someone a lot more eloquent than me:

  Dirge Without Music
  (Edna St. Vincent Millay)

  I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
  So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
  Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned
  With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.

  Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.
  Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.
  A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,
  A formula, a phrase remains, - but the best is lost.

  The answers quick and keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love, -
  They are gone. They are gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled
  Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve.
  More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.

  Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
  Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
  Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
  I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.

• 60 James Friel // May 23, 2008 at 2:11 am

  He couldn’t (I think it was congenital), absolutely couldn’t throw anything out.

  I got a call at the store once asking me how to salvage burned lentil soup.
  “You can’t fix it, Rory, throw it out.”
  “I’ve tried adding lots of spices, and it didn’t work.”
  “No, nothing will work. Throw it out.”
  “Maybe if I diluted it, and added more stuff and made it a bigger batch…?”
  “Then you’ll have a big batch of less-burned, but still burned, lentil soup. Throw it out, Rory.”
  And so it went–lentil soup as a metaphor for life…

• 61 Karen Root // May 23, 2008 at 3:49 am

  First and foremost i wish to thank all of you for sharing your own personal stories re. Rory. I have enjoyed reading every single post. My brother was defintely a force to be reckoned with. I personaly wish to thank Kathleen Hunt from the bottom of my selfish Heart. I could not have handled calling all the people or fielding the phone calls that you so graciously did while Rory was in the hospital, and even after his death. I know how very close you were, and i was not very sympathetic of your own feelings. Of this I am very very very sorry. A lot of the times we went thru were so very painful and sudden and so very unexpected. My emotions were so RAW. They still are.I need to see you!
  On a different note MOM is recovering fine but in pain. And the nurses know she used to be an R.N. also, so when they come on shift and tell her ’so I hear you are a retired registered nurse’ she now replies yes Soooo that means you have to take better care of me huh? Ha Ha
  Everyones musings on Rory are a real joy and comfort to read. And Brad,He LOVED that barbeque!! He spent hours on the phone to make sure that everyone at the airport got to go. You all know he loved great food. I had stayed up until 4:47 am this morning writing a very lengthy letter but I typed a wrong email addy and thought i should get my ass to bed Roger and I had spent a very long emotional day at Rorys house and then stopped by the store to give Jonathan some photos.Hey Jonathan I don’t see the one of Rory at the age of nine.Hehehe.
  Sisters, you never know what they might do next.
  On a more serious note Rory called me at 11:20 sat nite stating he was going in for emergency surgery he could only talk for a min. That was the last time we talked.He didn’t suffer any pain and never regained consciousness.I am so very thankful for all the friends who came to visit Rory, having the conversations helped take my mind off things. I will miss him. He was after all my only Big brother and therefore I was supposed to get his advice, since we had, in previous years lost our two older brothers. And I must say he filled that role beautifuly. He was always so smart,witty, kinda charming, funny as hell. He was such a nerd in high school, I’m glad he made it back to the bay area so he could bloom. I’m glad he has so many friends and peers that could appreciate his immense knowledge. So many times when we talked I would have to get him to slow down and explain just who a certain writer or artist was or did so i could try and share in his enthusiasum. He was so very unique, I loved talking with him late into the wee hours of the morn. RDR I will miss you the rest of my life………………………….

• 62 André L. // May 23, 2008 at 5:00 am

  It was back in 2002, a casual chat in front of a Comic Shop. A chat on comics, graphic novels in special, the art of comic in the us and in europe. A small talk that made a lasting impression on me and is part of my good memories from my stay in Berkeley.

  I didn’t know the man, nor his name until I came across this site. I happend to be Rory Root.

  Thank you Rory for having shared your thoughts.

  - André L., Switzerland

• 63 Eve Edelson // May 23, 2008 at 9:42 pm

  I stopped by the store recently, to browse - I’ve gone in many times just to hang out, and then come out with something cool. If Rory was around, that was always a bonus - it was a pleasure to have conversation with him. The time would fly as we jumped from one topic to another.

  I was taken aback and saddened by the news. What a nice, kind fellow, and a friend of writers - certainly he was encouraging to this writer. I know he was an eminent bookseller - but I’ll leave the industry accolades to others and just say that for me, whose first childhood allowance money went for comics, it was amazing to walk in to Comic Relief for the first time, in my adulthood. It was like coming home.

  My condolences to Rory’s family.

• 64 Dora Ritzer // May 24, 2008 at 10:59 pm

  My dear Rory. I really don’t know where to begin; after thirty-three years I took for granted that you’d always be there, always be part of my life. There are so many memories crowding for attention – far too many to mention here, but all so important to me.
  Years ago, after my beloved guinea pig died, I called you crying and asked what I should do with his remains. You came over, told me you’d “take care of him”, and whisked him and his towel away. You never would tell me exactly what you did with him (although I suspect a handy rubbish bin figured prominently), but I felt better anyway. You were always there for me like that – when I really needed it, you made me feel better.
  For a brief time I lived two blocks from you and frequently tromped down the hill to land on your doorstep, where you would welcome me in and give me tea – always the tea, buckets and buckets of tea. We would chat about BBC America, music we loved, and why neither of us could ever manage to clean our houses. Sometimes we’d walk the neighborhood, even trying to break into an empty house that looked so lovely we just had to see the inside.
  And then all the advice you gave me over the years, from what new things to read to what to do about my dating-life (“stop dating guys you meet in comic book stores” always seemed to top the list). I rarely listened to your advice, usually didn’t like getting it, but will miss it now immensely. Not that you ever listened to my advice either. If I only had a nickel for every time I asked you to please stop smoking, only to be met with a sweet smile and a “yes dear”. Will you forgive me now if I’m a bit angry at you for not having listened to me, to everyone, who told you to take care of yourself?
  It is only because I will miss your calls telling me to turn on the radio to hear a great program. I will miss fighting over the leftover mashed-potatoes at Passover and Thanksgiving (I will let you in on a secret: I can’t possibly eat them all myself). I will miss your presence at the July 4th BBQs. I will miss your smile. I will miss our bickering over silly things like band names and TV shows. In all the ways that truly count, you were part of my family. And I will just plain miss you. Do miss you. Good-bye my sweet, maddening, funny, complex, brilliant friend.

• 65 Peter Goodman // May 25, 2008 at 12:50 am

  Rory was a great supporter not just of our books, but all books. A true literary gentleman who just liked to have pictures with his words. And a guy who thought a lot about how to get stuff out there, who worked with libraries to increase their understanding and assortment of graphic works. I remember his many good suggestions, and regret I made wise use of so few of them.

• 66 Liz Schiller // May 25, 2008 at 3:47 am

  I just listened to the I Read Comics podcast interview with Rory. Maybe the policy came in after my time (very likely, we’re talking early 1990s here), or maybe I was special (aren’t we all?), but I’m pretty sure I sat down to read something in the store at least once or twice and didn’t get chastised for it.

  I’m so sorry Rory didn’t get a chance to meet my son.

• 67 Karen Root // May 25, 2008 at 12:22 pm

  FOR RORY
  To laugh often and much, to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children, to earn the appreciation of honest critics, and endure the betrayal of false friends. To appreciate beauty. To find the best in others. To leave the world a bit better whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition. To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived…………
  This Is To Have Succeeded.
  Ralph Waldo Emerson

• 68 Marc // May 25, 2008 at 12:40 pm

  I never met the man, nor have I ever been to his store (despite knowing it by reputation)… but, I have to say, I wish I had known him and wish I had frequented his store.

  Now if a stranger can say that about you, you must have been something extra-special.

• 69 Pamela McManus // May 25, 2008 at 9:10 pm

  Memories of Rory Root

  I am so saddened to hear of Rory’s passing. Floods of wonderful memories have come rushing back. I’d forgotten how much Rory had been a part of my life . . .

  1. 1980 My introduction to Comic collecting and SF Cons

  When I first met my husband, Patrick, I told him I “didn’t like science fiction,” but it didn’t take long to discover I was an avid fan - I just thought SF was “Godzilla destroys Tokyo.” Patrick quickly introduced me to fandom at “Octo-Con” in Santa Rosa and the comic book shops he visited weekly in Berkeley. That is where we first met Rory. In no time I was buying my own comics, fantasy art, etc. and finding my own niche in the world of fandom.

  2. Friday night comic runs to Best of Two Worlds in Berkeley.

  We fell into a routine of Patrick picking me up after work on Friday nights at MacArthur BART and going directly to Comics and Comix and Best of Two Worlds stores for our supply of new releases. We would hang out and talk with the staff. As our friendships grew, we gravitated to talking mostly with Rory. He always had a recommendation to read something new, or a movie to see, or an artist/writer etc. who was coming to the store. On a slow Friday, we could entice him to join us for dinner at Blake’s . . . we’d hang out in the store as long as it took to get “quiet” so he would join us. Friends with Rory felt like being invited to the “inner circle” and became a very big part of our life.

  3. The Prisoner rebroadcasts on KTEH

  When KTEH began rebroadcasts of The Prisoner, fan groups started to form to watch together. We couldn’t get the station on our TV in Oakland, so we were delighted that my mother, Rae, who lived in San Francisco (and was also a “fan”) had reception. So a party was born . . . Rory and about 8-10 of us would descend on my Mom, bringing snack foods and drinks, to watch each new episode. Only one problem . . . the only TV in my mother’s house was in her small bedroom upstairs because she was on disability and spent most of her time in bed. So, there we all were, climbing in bed with her, where I would snuggle up to her like the child I was, others draped across the bed, more on the floor around the bed, all watching intently. Excited discussion at the end of each show. My mother loved it all . . . Warm fuzzies all around.

  4. Saturday morning breakfast

  For years, my regular routine on Saturday morning was to go out on my own to do errands (grocery shop; cleaners; payless, etc.) while Patrick slept in. On many of those Saturday mornings, I would pick up Rory so we could go out to breakfast (Fat Apples, IHOP, other local restaurants) and we’d get a chance to talk one-on-one. This was our “alone time together;” a time I treasured. Rory was the most intelligent and eclectic (next to my husband) person I knew. Conversations were magical.

  5. 1986 - The Birthday Bash

  In November 1986, Patrick was turning 40. His birthday was the same day as our friend, Bill Hutchinson (40), and a couple days before Rory’s (29). So I decided to throw all three a party and called it the “Birthday Bash!” It was held at my Mom, Rae’s big house in San Francisco and about 50 friends of the three “birthday boys” came to celebrate in style. Their surprise present from me was a Belly Dancer who performed in the large foyer of Rae’s house, with Patrick, Rory & Bill standing together, smiling broadly and a big crowd standing around the many doorways and stairway to watch. She enjoyed the boys and the crowd so much, she stayed for the rest of the party.

  I’d ordered a birthday cake from Safeway but the clerk had mis-read my instructions for the greeting on the cake, so it read:

  Happy Birthday
  Bash, Patrick,
  Bill & Rory.

  As if “Bash” was one of the fellas. I left it for all to see.

  6. 1988 Move to other side of the tunnel - to Lafayette

  The one thing you can count on in life is change. When Patrick and I moved to the other side of the tunnel, to Lafayette where I now worked, we just didn’t get down into Oakland/Berkeley with our usual frequency. We saw our fan friends at cons, and Patrick would make periodic comic runs to Rory’s Comic Relief bookstore. (I always thought it was rude of Robin Williams, et. al. to call their TV specials “Comic Relief” without giving credit to Rory!) For reasons I could never figure out, most of our friends just didn’t want to drive to our side of the tunnel, so we gradually began to have less and less frequent contact. I’ve always been sad about that . . . but life moves on . . . new friends are made . . . new interests and activities . . . etc., etc., etc. . . . . . . . . .

  As others have said on this memory page, Rory was special, extraordinary, visionary and passionate. When he liked someone, he’d say they were “good people.”

  Rory, my friend, we will miss you forever - you were “good people.”

  HUGS
  Pamela

• 70 Patrick McManus // May 26, 2008 at 8:46 pm

  MEMORIES OF RORY

  I have known Rory a long time, all the way back to the Best of Both Worlds days before he opened Comic Relief. In fact when he was just getting the store together he and his crew came over to our place and dug through my collection gathering books for the store and Rory would teach them how to grade, “bag and tag” them.

  My wife Pamela and I would swing by the shop late and wait for him to close up and all of us hit Telegraph Ave for dinner. She would also go out to Breakfast Saturday Mornings while I slept in.

  Rory and My birthday are only a few days apart. One year Pamela tossed a party for both of us and a good friend and teacher of mine Bill Hutchinson (who shares my birthday. Anyway we confiscated my Mother-in-laws house in San Francisco for the Party and invited all of our fan and video friends. Pamela hired a belly dancer to perform for the 3 of us. (unfortunately the pictures of the party are buried in storage
  until we move.)

  I lived across the street from Rory when we both lived on 27th St. I was invited to one of Rory’s infamous poker games but I was so lousy and played so poorly that I went home broke and was never invited back.

  I did help Rory put together Petunia-Con, the first (and to my knowledge the only con dedicated to Cerebus)

  Patrick McManus The man of Many Hats (aka Redbeard)

• 71 valerie H. // May 26, 2008 at 9:04 pm

  Though he wasn’t the easiest guy to work for, he gave me a chance when I needed it and allowed me to work (my first office job) at a cultural institution I still love. An institution that was his (and Mike’s) own creation, and a place that changed my course forever.

• 72 Donna martin // May 28, 2008 at 1:26 am

  I met Rory almost exactly 28 years ago when he came to my home to ask for my permission to take my daughter Treesa to her Senior Prom. This was a very big deal for Tree and for me. I wasn’t quite sure of what to make of this big blonde man who strolled so easily into our home. His infectious smile soon won me over and he received permission. That was the beginning of rory’s being a part of my family’s life.

  Later he introdouced Treesa to charlie an d as they say the rest is history. Rory remained their very good friend for all these years.
  Rory has been a part of our extended family for all the past 28 years. When he came to visit at my mom’s, “Noni’s house” he was always on his best behaviour. He and my mother would have lively discussions about just about everything but they did love to talk food and Rory enjoyed many of her {real” italian food. He loved just about every thing she cooked but he loved her desserts the most. Rory and i talked mostly about my classroom in particualr and education in general and we talked about families and traditions and values. He even got along with my somewhat red neck brother. He just seemed to mess with everyone he met.
  In all the years I knew him I never heard him say a bad word about anyone, that is other than politics.

  As we both grew older we shared some of the same physical difficulties but even when he was in pain he still met me with that wonderful smile and a warm hug.

  I will miss you dear Rory. May the Lord Bless and Keep You in His Grace.

• 73 Janet Harvey // May 29, 2008 at 1:16 am

  I was out of the country when my friend texted me the news, and I’m so sad to hear of Rory’s passing. What a light he was in so many lives, always willing to take a risk on a new book or encourage a local artist, always listening and sharing his immense love - and encyclopedic knowledge - of comics. He was one of the few retailers to take a chance on preordering my first book, for which I will be forever grateful. But even more than that, Rory was just such a warm and caring person, and a joy to be around. I truly looked forward to seeing him every year at San Diego (and giving him my money - I think I can safely say he also got more of that than any other comics retailer, and we weren’t even in the same city!)

  My defining memory of Rory was before I even met him in person: I think I was moaning about my incipient 35th birthday on the Warren Ellis Forum (ah, it seems so long ago now) and he suggested I look on the bright side: at 35, I’d be able to run for President! It probably means nothing to anyone else, but it cheered me up immensely and it was just, I dunno, such a Rory moment. Here was somebody who I’d never even met, and yet he made you feel as though you had been heard, and seen, and recognized. Others have talked about how he always seemed to remember your taste and have recommendations for you. Looking over people’s remembrances, I’m kind of boggled by HOW MANY people he must have been keeping track of. What an incredible gift the man had. It was so subtle that you took it for granted, but he was always paying attention. He really cared.

  I’m relieved to hear that he wasn’t in pain at the end. But I am so sad for the loss to his family, friends and the whole comics industry. Rory was a rare and wonderful and gentle man. I don’t know what we’re gonna do without him.

• 74 MN // May 29, 2008 at 2:30 am

  Long time comic store owner Buddy Saunders wrote this in his recent newsletter:

  Rory was a longtime friend and someone I very much liked and respected both as a person and as a source of wisdom within our industry. Everyone who knew Rory felt about him pretty much as I do. There are too few Rory Roots in this little comic business world, and the loss of anyone as vital as Rory will be sorely missed. Yes, Rory is gone, but his spirit lingers wherever comics are seen and enjoyed.

• 75 MN // May 29, 2008 at 2:32 am

  San Jose store owner Dan Shahin has some nice comments and a nice pencil drawing (!!) of Rory here:

  http://www.hijinxcomics.com/

  Scroll down about halfway.

• 76 MN // May 29, 2008 at 2:35 am

  Currently 61 posts here, on Rory’s passing:

  http://blog.newsarama.com/2008/05/19/retailer-rory-root-ill/

• 77 dylan ricards // May 29, 2008 at 4:40 pm

  this is truly the end of an era. rory, you and your store have been in my life for over 20 years. i learned a lot about myself inside those walls buried in aisles of books practically falling off the shelf. that store is one of the most beautiful things i know and you are to credit for creating such a diamond in the rough of university avenue (and later shattuck).
  you are missed.

• 78 Jon Athens // May 29, 2008 at 8:20 pm

  It seems like every day there is a reminder that, as I get older, the days fly by faster and the people and things from our past leave sooner.

  I met Rory back around 1981 at Best of Two Worlds comics in Berkeley where I often shopped. Not long after that, John Barrett of Comics and Comix asked me if I would be interested in running a store in my home town of Santa Rosa.
  Never ones to be beaten to the punch, Bob Beerbohm and Rory made me a better offer and that week they pulled up with a huge truck of comics, merchandise and racks and the Santa Rosa location of Best of Two Worlds was open for business.
  Having only been a dealer at conventions, running a store was new to me and I could not have done it, if it wasn’t for Rory. He would call me daily or I would call him, and his advice was invaluable and he was the best mentor one could have. We did not get much chance to actually work together except at conventions or my weekly drive down to Berkeley to pick up the new comics. He and I would always walk down Telegraph and get coffee and talk about business and what was working well in the store and what was not and generally shoot the breeze. His enthusiasm was always infectious and I would leave Berkeley with new comics and happy about my job. At the time, I was also working at Eclipse Comics in production, paste up, and as an office assistant for Cat Yronwode and Dean Mullaney. Rory used to love to come up and talk with them. One time Cat referred to me as her “secretary,” in her column in the CBG. Rory teased me about that mercilessly for weeks.
  We had a slight falling out a couple years later which was caused by in store politics more than personality conflicts. We still talked at conventions and on my visits to Berkeley long after I had stopped working for the company. When he opened Comic Relief, it was obvious he was doing what he was meant to. We had not spoken in quite a while.
  I remember when his health first started to decline and he was using a cane, I saw him at a convention and asked him how he was doing and he told me, “Growing old sucks.” I remember feeling a little sad and worried about seeing this mountain of a guy, who used to be all over the convention floors, staying at his booth more than usual. The last time him and I really spoke was at a signing he and Ron Turner had put on at the store with Junko. He gave my wife a nice discount on graphic novels she would be using for the high school English class she teaches. That was Rory just being Rory.
  My favorite Rory memories are: 1) A several hour long discussion about the future of the industry and comic retail with Rory, Diana Schutz, Cat, Dean, and a few others at Petunia Con right before we all joined 25 more industry people and creators at Victoria Station for a wonderful evening of food, drink, and talk. 2) Rory joining my girlfriend, her friends, and myself for a barbeque at the Russian River. 3) Partying with Rory, Dave Sim, Gerhard, and more people than I can remember after a con. 4) Working until early morning with Rory, Bob and the Bo2W crew at the SR store on the in-house newsletter, so it would be done in time for San Diego. 5) Looking at Simon and Kirby romance comics with Rory, Diana, and Cat at a Creation Con in Berkeley. 6) Cat had received all of Will Eisners original art for the Spirit including the Wally Wood Spirit in Outer Space pages. She was brokering the sale of it for Will. When Rory got the chance to see it, he was like a child at the candy shop.7) How Rory could talk and talk about any subject you can think of.
  Recently I was telling my Daughter how I just don’t really have any desire to go to most conventions anymore, as they have turned into a media circus and are just not the small (well kind of) intimate shows they used to be. You just do not see as many familiar faces as you once did. The energy is different as well. Knowing Rory will not be at the Comic Relief table just drives that point home.
  I will, as always, make my pilgrimage to Comic Relief with friends or the kids from the group home I am a counselor at. I will smile fondly of days gone when I make my purchases.
  I think that if we could peek into a magical looking glass and see what is going on in heaven, we would see Rory, with a cup of Joe in hand talking and holding court with Jack Kirby, Rick Griffin, Will Eisner, Jane Oliver, Dori Seda and more than I can count. He would be speaking of the things he loved—comics and the people who make them.
  God bless you Rory Root.

• 79 Jim Brocius // Jun 2, 2008 at 4:53 pm

  I met Rory once, very briefly, when he was in town for a trade show. He stopped by my shop with some other retailers for a few minutes. After looking around he complimented me on the place and gave me a couple of really good tips for improvements. Such a warm hearted man. May God Bless his family and his shop.

• 80 Eric Herrmann // Jun 3, 2008 at 1:53 am

  I was one of those who would occasionally walk in to Comic Relief and, if Rory was not there, maybe walk out with one or two things that caught my eye, but if Rory happened to be there, walk out with a boxful. But I wasn’t a stranger, Rory and I have been friends for a long time. (Had. Damn!) The thing is that I trusted his judgment of what I would like and what would be interesting, far more than anyone else. And if he didn’t have something I happened to want, he knew who did and freely referred me to them. A visit to his house was informative, he had a lot of books. And by a lot, I mean more than most would probably imagine. I don’t doubt he read every one and knew every one. I have too many memories to recount… most of them good. I remember many things about Rory, but the one thing I remember most, is when at a party or gathering, after sitting with him for a few minutes talking about whatever, he would look at you and say, “how are you?”. And it was a simple question, but he meant it. He really wanted to know, it was never about him, he was truly larger than life, he was the real deal. Damn.

• 81 John Clemons // Jun 7, 2008 at 11:46 am

  I’m so saddened by Rory’s passing. I met Rory in 1979 when I started working at Best of Two Worlds on Telegraph Avenue. Rory worked next door at The Music Faucet, and was a regular visitor to the neighboring comic store. He a