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13. Super Son, Super Daughter

Years ago, I heard a man say, "I've been married to the same woman for 40 years and my kids are still speaking to me. I think I've got it pretty good." I've got it pretty good too. I've been married to the same woman for 31 years and not only are my kids still speaking to me, they dig Superman.

In our daughter Ruth, it almost seemed an inherited trait. She was a babe in arms when we took her to a showing of Superman II. She not only knew how much Daddy enjoyed Superman, she knew one should always allow others to enjoy Superman without distraction. Of course, she did! Why else would she sleep through a two-hour movie? Later, when the same movie was advertised for network broadcast, she became upset because they weren't going to show the whole thing right there and then. How upset? Frantic! She was almost inconsolable. (The only time I ever saw her more upset was when Heidi was taken from her grandfather.) Talk about having to talk somebody down! "It's okay, honey! It's okay! Superman'll be back! Then we'll watch 'im all night long!"

I believe the first comic book I ever read to my children was Secret Origins #1. If it wasn't the first, it should've been. This one contained Roy Thomas' marvelous retelling of Jerry and Joe's first published Superman adventure. It appeared in the late winter or early spring of 1986. At the time, Ruth would've been five, Alexander three. Having enjoyed the story myself, I thought the kids would too. So I corralled them in our bedroom and began to read it to them. Alex was a bit hyper in the beginning. Bouncing on the bed, he wasn't quite as interested in this thing as Ruth. I encircled him in one arm, though, and, pretty soon, he got into it.

The kids were delighted with the scene in which Superman jerks the bodyguard up off the floor and carries him one handed up the stairs to the governor's bedroom. When Superman chases a speeding car, causing the thug driver to scream, "It's the devil!" they squealed with pleasure. When we finished the story, they jumped up and ran to tell Mom about this wonderful fellow, Superman. It's a memory I'll always treasure. Seeing your children fall in love with something you love, sharing that experience together - man, it doesn't get much better than that!

Ruth and Alex continued to share their dad's love for the Man of Steel. Somewhere there's a photo of Ruth sitting in my lap on the floor. We're looking at something together. You can't see what. But it was an Adventures of Superman episode on TV. Even during their teen years, both kids still liked me to read comics to them. Does it seem odd to you that a sixteen-year-old boy should desire his father to read a comic book to him? It does to me! And I say vive le bizarre!

In the nineties, we planted a new church in Kent, Ohio. The Robinson family worked together in all facets of its operation. That included acting in skits. One Easter Sunday, we put on a rather elaborate production of "The Death of Superman," adapted from the Jerry Siegel classic. We pulled out all the stops: a kryptonite-simulating green light, sound-effects, costumes, make-up. My nephew John Mark Harvey sometimes joined us in these skits. John is a born actor. Under a bald skin cap, he played murderous Lex Luthor with great flare. (If I ever need to blackmail my nephew, all I'll have to do is pop in the tape and show this short, bald kid in a white lab coat yelling with pre-pubescent glee, "Soon I'll be king of the earth!") Twelve-year-old Alex made a dignified Superman. Ruth played his cousin, Supergirl.

At the time, she was a troubled fourteen-year-old. Ruth had her problems as a teen. Out of respect for her feelings, I won't talk about them. Suffice it to say that we rode those years with her like a raft on Class Five rapids. She wasn't happy playing Supergirl, but she did it for me. Now, as I look at the video tape, her low key performance seems quite appropriate for a grieving cousin: "You've murdered a Kryptonian, Luthor. Now you'll be tried by Kryptonians." Ruth looked the way I'd always pictured the last daughter of Krypton, youthful innocence barely covering awesome power.

Yes, Ruth had her troubles - and we with her. But she never lost her love for performing. Several years later, she joined me on the platform of another church for a Father's Day skit. This time, she played Superman's daughter. I couldn't resist calling her Kara. Here's some dialogue from the script:

Kara: Barry.

Dad: Barry? Barry...Allen Jr.?!

Kara: Uh huh.

Dad: Kara...I'd rather you didn't see Barry.

Kara: Why not, Dad?

Dad: He's...you know...fast.

Kara: Well, of course, he's fast, Dad - he's the son of the Flash!

Dad: You know what I mean!

Kara: Okay, Dad. I'll stop seeing Barry.

Dad: You will?!

Kara: If you'll go someplace with me.

Dad: Little father-daughter date, eh? I love it! Where do you want to go?

Kara: To church.

Dad [sighing]: Kara, we've been over this before. You know I've traveled the galaxy. I've found so many religions! On Mongo, they worship Elvis.

Kara: Aren't they the ones who renamed their planet Graceland?

Dad: Right.

Kara: Elvis fakes his own death, then goes to a place where he really is King. Great career move!

Dad: Then there's Sirius IV. Missionaries went there and converted the inhabitants. Only they forgot the people were dyslexic. So now they worship Dog!

Kara: I could never accept a faith that encouraged yellow teeth and bad breath.

Dad: And all that scratching!

I'm happy to report that the college-aged Ruth had a lot more fun with this one.

A couple years later, I'd use Ruth again in a much bigger Superman production. Her brother Alex, however, would play a much bigger role. (More on that down the road.) By this time, Alex had really begun to bloom. He was not only a good actor; he was an advanced student, a musician, an Eagle Scout, even something of an engineer. There wasn't anything he wouldn't try, seemingly nothing he couldn't do. At the time, our small congregation met in a day care center. After he finished his paper route Sunday mornings, Alex used to go with me to set up our chairs and sound system. We used to pick up Burger King biscuit-sandwiches along the way and eat them in the teacher's lounge while watching Superman cartoons. We home schooled our children and when Alex graduated in 2001, as I presented him his diploma, I told the church that Alex wasn't really ours. No, we'd found him in a rocket in a cornfield.

If I appear to be bragging on my children, well, I am. If only Dr. Frederick Wertham, the man who saw in comic books the spark that lit the fuse of juvenile delinquency, could have seen these two explosions. Both read lots of funnybooks. Both got down on their bellies, put their faces in, and drank deeply from that cold, rushing stream. Both were raised by a man with kryptonite blood and a Bizarro brain. By the logic of the good doctor, these two should've grown up to become no-accounts at best, axe murderers at worst. But by a kinder, gentler logic, Ruth's teaching English in Italy. I call her the Brave One, Queen of the Amazons. And Alexander? The man I most want to be when I grow up is married now, studying in a graduate seminary in Tennessee.

Yes, I'm bragging, but on them, not on me. My children are gifts of grace. No, we didn't find either of them in a rocket or in a cornfield, but I have the strange feeling they're not really mine. I can't take credit for what they are today. I can only be surprised and delighted by them - and their mother, of course. She's a remarkable woman, Barb. It wasn't easy for her to raise three children. And one of us won't leave home!

Well, I'm sure some of you have indigestion already, so I'm going to finish this family love feast. Just one more bite and we're done. Not only did Alex come out of the oven of adolescence nicely baked and ready to treat the world, he married well too. How well? Before he and Jamie wed, they visited us. I wondered about this red-headed girl. Would she be a good fit for the Robinson family? Somewhere along the way, our talk turned to movies. She said they'd seen the teaser trailer for Superman Returns. Jamie said, "It was so beautiful, it made me cry."

Show me your enemies, girl. I will crush them!

Don't Miss the Next Thrill-Packed Episode: Superman in Church.

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13. Super Son, Super Daughter

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