I never got to shake his hand...

Dec 05, 2008 16:56

Many years ago I went to Comicon for the first time. There was a panel there which included Ray Bradbury, Ray Harryhausen, and Forrest J Ackerman. Listening to the three of them, old men that started in the industry decades before we were even born. Ackerman spoke of the first sci fi conventions - ever - that he dressed up for. He was one of the first costumed attendees. They cheerfully, crankily gave advice, reminisced and joked. Ackerman, lovable uncle to all, gave out his phone number to an entire giant hall of attendees so that we could call him if we wanted to stop by for a tour of his house.

For years Mr B and I kept saying we would make it by there, we would knock on his door some Saturday and meet him, chat with him, and enjoy the pleasure of his youthful enthusiasm combined with nearly Yoda-like sci-fi wisdom. Then we moved away from Southern California last year... and even as we moved, I mentioned with regret that we hadn't taken the opportunity to meet him and see his collections.

I remember his comments as to why he had so much. "I thought it was a fad, and would disappear soon, so I collected everything I could, afraid that eventually it would end!" Thanks to his (and others) devotion, his favorite genre has survived him, and holds him as one of the Saints of Sci Fi.

Last month (unbeknownst to myself) this was posted in 'aintitcoolnews':
Forrest J Ackerman is slipping away...
Hey folks, Harry here... I spoke briefly with Forrest J Ackerman earlier today, he wasn't sounding very strong, it hurt to hear his voice knowing that it wouldn't be here with us much longer. But at the same time, it was nice to say goodbye to one another.
Ackerman is one of the founders of my love of cinema. My father is the geek he is, because of his magazine - and I'm the geek I am because of his magazine as well as the influence it had on my father. That magazine was, of course, FAMOUS MONSTERS OF FILMLAND. In speaking with Uncle Forry's caretaker, an amazing gentleman named Joe Moe, I was told that Forry was lucid, peaceful and not even on pain medication, but that he was progressively getting worse - and was ready to move on. However, he was wanting to say his goodbyes to as many of his neice and nephews that he has created in his almost 92 years on this Earth. His 92nd Birthday is this November 22nd.

Many friends of Forry have visited his bedside, hearing one last story, one last pun and to say one last goodbye. Ray Bradbury even flew to his bedside. We here at AICN are preparing a fitting memorial - and something, most likely, permanent to AICN. In the meanwhile - there is a chance for you to say your final goodbye, here's how...

I talked to Joe Moe, Forry's caregiver and best friend. He told me to spread the word about Forry. Forry is leaving us quickly. If youre going to write or call, do it now before it's too late. He's in good spirits and not in any pain or taking any meds. He did not have any heart attack or stroke. He is home resting comfortably, but his body is starting to shut down and he's sleeping alot now, hes very weak.
Even if you do what I did, just write "I love you" on a piece of paper and mail it, please do something if he touched your life in some way................joey OBrien
FORREST J ACKERMAN
4511 Russell Avenue
Los Angeles, CA
90027

Then, just today, just now, I find out he has passed. The uncle I never met, that so many people probably didn't even know they owed a debt to for his huge contributions to the community, is gone. :(

The obit from LA Times:

Forrest J Ackerman, writer-editor who coined 'sci-fi,' dies at 92

The Los Angeles native influenced young fans with his Famous Monsters of Filmland magazine and spent a lifetime amassing a vast collection of science fiction and fantasy memorabilia. By Dennis McLellan

December 6, 2008

Forrest J Ackerman, who influenced a generation of young horror movie fans with Famous Monsters of Filmland magazine and spent a lifetime amassing what has been called the world's largest personal collection of science fiction and fantasy memorabilia, has died. He was 92.

Ackerman, a writer, editor and literary agent who has been credited with coining the term "sci-fi" in the 1950s, died Thursday of heart failure at his home in Los Angeles, said John Sasser, a friend who is making a documentary on Ackerman.

As editor of Famous Monsters of Filmland, Ackerman wrote most of the articles in the photo-laden magazine launched in 1958 as a forum for past and present horror films.

"It was the first movie monster magazine," Tony Timpone, editor of Fangoria, a horror movie magazine founded in 1979, told The Times in 2002.

Timpone, who began reading Famous Monsters as a young boy in the early '70s, remembers it as "a black-and-white magazine with cheap paper but great painted [color] covers. It really turned people onto the magic of horror movies."

Primarily targeted to late pre-adolescents and young teenagers, Famous Monsters of Filmland featured synopses of horror films, interviews with actors such as Boris Karloff, Bela Lugosi and Vincent Price, and articles on makeup and special effects.

Famous Monsters reflected Ackerman's penchant for puns, with features such as "The Printed Weird" and "Fang Mail." Ackerman referred to himself as Dr. Acula.

"He put a lot of his personality into the magazine," said Timpone, who later became friends with Ackerman. "It was a pretty juvenile approach to genre journalism, but as kids that's all we had."

Among those who reportedly grew up reading Famous Monsters of Filmland was author Stephen King. Other childhood readers included movie directors Joe Dante, John Landis and Steven Spielberg, who once autographed a poster of "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" for Ackerman, saying, "A generation of fantasy lovers thank you for raising us so well."

Ackerman was a celebrity in his own right, once signing 10,000 autographs during a three-day monster movie convention in New York City.

This, after all, was the man who created and wrote the comic books "Vampirella" and "Jeanie of Questar" and was the ultimate fan's fan: a man who actually had known Lugosi and Karloff and whose priceless collection of science fiction, horror and fantasy artifacts ran to some 300,000 items.

For years, Ackerman housed his enormous cache of books, movie stills, posters, paintings, movie props, masks and assorted memorabilia in his 18-room home in Los Feliz.

He dubbed the house the Ackermansion.

The jam-packed repository included everything from a Dracula cape worn by Lugosi to Mr. Spock's pointy ears; and from Lon Chaney Sr.'s makeup kit to the paper plate flying saucer used by director Ed Wood in "Plan 9 From Outer Space."

For Ackerman, a native Angeleno born on Nov. 24, 1916, it all began at age 9 in 1926.

That's when he stopped at a drugstore on the corner of Santa Monica Boulevard and Western Avenue in Hollywood and bought his first copy of the science fiction magazine Amazing Stories.

From then on, Ackerman was helplessly hooked.

By his late teens, he had mastered Esperanto, the invented international language. In 1929, he founded the Boys Scientifiction Club. In 1932, he joined a group of other young fans in launching the Time Traveler, which is considered the first fan magazine devoted exclusively to science fiction and for which Ackerman was "contributing editor."

Ackerman also joined with other local fans in starting a chapter of the Science Fiction Society -- meetings were held in Clifton's Cafeteria in downtown L.A. -- and as editor of the group's fan publication Imagination! he published in 1938 a young Ray Bradbury's first short story.

During World War II, Ackerman edited a military newspaper published at Ft. MacArthur in San Pedro. After the war, he worked as a literary agent. His agency represented scores of science fiction writers, including L. Ron Hubbard, Isaac Asimov, A.E. van Vogt, H.L. Gold, Ray Cummings and Hugo Gernsback.

In 1954, Ackerman coined the term that would become part of the popular lexicon -- a term said to make some fans cringe.

"My wife and I were listening to the radio, and when someone said 'hi-fi' the word 'sci-fi' suddenly hit me," Ackerman explained to The Times in 1982. "If my interest had been soap operas, I guess it would have been 'cry-fi,' or James Bond, 'spy-fi.' "

At the time, Ackerman already was well-known among science fiction and horror aficionados for his massive collection.

After a couple from Texas showed up on his doorstep in 1951 asking to view the collection, Ackerman began opening his home up for regular, informal tours on Saturdays.

Over the years, thousands of people made the pilgrimage to the Ackermansion.

The Dracula/Frankenstein room featured a casket as a "coffin table" and the cape Lugosi wore in the stage version of "Dracula." A case displayed one of the horror film legend's bow ties, which, Ackerman would gleefully note, contained a drop of blood.

Among the collection's other highlights: the ring worn by Lugosi in "Dracula," the giant-winged pterodactyl that swooped down for Fay Wray in "King Kong," Lon Chaney's cape from "The Phantom of the Opera" and "Metropolis" director Fritz Lang's monocle.

The affable Ackerman would escort his visitors through the priceless warren of books, posters and memorabilia, settling into a chair in each room and answering questions.

"He was always just a big kid," said Fangoria's Timpone. "I really cherished all the times I've been with him."

Ackerman wrote more than 2,000 articles and short stories for magazines and anthologies, sometimes under his pseudonyms Dr. Acula, Weaver Wright and Claire Voyant.

He also wrote what has been reported to have been the first lesbian science-fiction story ever published, "World of Loneliness." And under the pen name Laurajean Ermayne, he wrote lesbian romances in the late 1940s for the lesbian magazine Vice Versa.

As an editor, Ackerman edited or co-edited numerous books, including "A Book of Weird Tales," "365 Science Fiction Short Stories" and "The Great Science Fiction."

Over the years, he made numerous cameo appearances in films, including Dante's "The Howling" and Landis' "Innocent Blood." Landis also had Ackerman eating popcorn behind Michael Jackson in the movie theater scene in his "Thriller" video.

Famous Monsters of Filmland ceased publication in 1983. But the magazine returned a decade later with Ray Ferry as publisher and Ackerman as editor. Ackerman, however, reportedly had a falling out with Ferry and left the magazine. Years of litigation followed. In 2000, after a civil trial, Ackerman won a trademark infringement and breach-of-contract lawsuit against Ferry, though he said a year later that he not yet collected a penny of the judgment.

In recent decades, according to a 2003 Times story, Ackerman slowly sold pieces of his massive collection in order to survive. Because of health problems and his still-unresolved legal battle, he put up all but about 100 of his favorite objects for sale in 2002.

The same year, he moved out of the Ackermansion and into a bungalow in the flats of Los Feliz. But he continued to make what was left of his collection available for viewing by fans on Saturday mornings.

"I call it the Acker Mini-Mansion," he said.

Ackerman's wife, Wendayne, died in 1990; he had no surviving family members.

Rest well, Uncle Forry. We'll miss you.
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