Superman Homepage

Other Miscellaneous Superman Stuff

Superman on Earth

9. Truth, Justice, and The Right to Read

I can't believe I lost the letter. It was one of my most treasured possessions. I wonder if you'll believe I actually received the letter. I hope so. Before I tell you about the letter, though, let me tell you about Right to Read Week.

It was 1988. The Robinsons had been living in northeastern Ohio area for three years. Our two children were students at East Canton Elementary where their mother was employed as librarian. Barb, an energetic and creative woman, was always looking for new ways to excite children about books. One evening, we were dining at our family favorite, Long John Silvers. Between mouthfuls of hot, greasy fish, I was talking about - what else? - Superman; in particular, his fiftieth anniversary. I almost choked on my coleslaw, however, when Barb asked, "Do you think you can do something with Superman for Right to Read?" She was referring to a national program, which many schools participate in, that attempts to foster a love of reading.

I was torn. One side of me was highly gratified, not to say jumping up and down like a kid: "I get to talk about Superman! Whee!" The other side of me frowned: "How do I get up in public and address school children, with their teachers listening in, on the subject of Superman. I can just hear some adult, 'Oh, that's just silly!'" Thankfully, the kid side of me had already decided the matter. Some might call me silly, but I preferred to think of myself as merely foolish. You want Superman, Honey? Done!

Barb didn't give me much instruction. We both knew we were plowing new ground. It took me a while to decide on an approach. On the eve of my appearance at school, CBS broadcast a "celebration" of Superman. It featured Dana Carvey and other Saturday Night Live-ers making lame jokes. I determined that, for the sake of the children and whoever else might hear me, I would do better than that.

So, four weeks after Barb had broached the subject, I stood in the elementary school cafeteria while a stream of first graders flowed in to John Williams' Superman theme. Barb had made a nice big S shield that we hung from the ceiling. I'd prepared some visuals (visual aids for you teachers) on poster boards which sat on an easel. If that seems quaint, you must remember this was 1988. Al Gore hadn't yet invented the Internet and Power Point was still just an emphatic gesture. In any event, I'd decided to rely on the most powerful visual aid known to man, a child's imagination.

I started out talking about imagination, drawing the kids in by telling them not to think about strawberries. Then I showed them a map of our fair state and pointed to a place about an hour north of us, Cleveland. It was there, I said, that two boys not much older than they (well, not much older than the sixth graders I'd later talk to) had used their imaginations to create one of our greatest American heroes. I told how comic books were produced. I showed them pictures and comics. I asked them questions. Hands shot up from kids quivering to be called on. More than a few students asked questions of their own. Teachers did too.

Relieved and encouraged, I went on to talk to groups of children aged six through twelve. If I remember correctly, I'd originally planned on speaking only to Grades 1-5. Over at the Middle school, however, somebody heard what was going on and invited me to continue my presentation to Grades 6-7. I got to spend all day talking about my favorite subject. Of course, the younger ones were my best audience. By Middle school, the light of wonder has begun to fade a bit in a child's eyes. Still, if anybody was bored, I didn't notice. By the time I was ready to deliver the benign coup de grace, the weight of disbelief was suspended nicely above the heads of all ages.

I'd come in, you see, wearing a suit and glasses. Normally, I didn't need glasses, but I'd worn a pair throughout my presentation. I wondered if anybody would notice these were without lenses. If anybody did, I didn't hear from him. At the climax of the presentation, Barb rushed in with dreadful news: "I've just received word that Lex Luthor has threatened to blow up East Canton with a nuclear bomb!" I stepped back, loosening my tie and removing my glasses. "Uh, I certainly thank you for listening so well. Now if you'll excuse me, I, uh, have to go!" Then I dashed out the door.

And you know what? These kids - the younger ones, at least - believed that Superman himself had been talking to them. If they didn't believe, they wanted to. One of the teachers told me later about a boy who'd said, "That wasn't Superman...was it?" Not a bad response to an overweight champion of the receding hairline!

It was an enlightening experience, as most experiences with children are. It taught me a lot about how the kids of the Eighties looked at this super child of the Thirties. They saw him with wonder, of course, even with awe. They saw him, ready to believe a man could fly. Sadly, though, they also saw him...mostly on TV.

I didn't ask how many of them actually read Superman or any other comics. I didn't have to. Their questions and comments indicated some familiarity with animated cartoons and the Chris Reeve films but no contact with the comics. In '88, the town grocery store still offered those, but not for much longer. Across the country, the old spinner racks were disappearing. Other types of publications were squeezing comics off the shelf. Twenty years ago, that didn't seem to me to bode well for either Superman or reading.

Thankfully, Superman's still around (albeit mostly lounging on his cape, chatting with Captain Marvel in the green room while waiting his turn for the next screen interpretation). And, thanks to concerned parents, dedicated teachers, and librarians, kids are still reading - just not as many comics as they used to.

But I started out talking about a letter, didn't I? This is what happened. In honor of Superman's birthday, a couple of the younger classes made birthday cards for the Man of Steel. I wish you could've seen the many colorful greetings these kids created. With the help of Kevin Dooley, then editor of Amazing Heroes, I got Jerry Siegel's home address in California. I wrote a letter to Jerry and Joe Shuster, put it in a big envelope with the birthday greetings, and mailed it off.

I don't remember how much time passed. I'd all but forgotten the Right to Read event. Then one day I went to the mailbox and found a letter on Shuster-drawn stationery from Jerry Siegel. He said that, as soon as he'd opened the package and discovered what was inside, he'd taken it to Joe Shuster for him to see. He and Joe had been delighted, he said, to receive the many colorful greetings to Superman. In my letter, I'd said something about how Jerry and Joe's creation appealed to the "strong, pure imagination" of a child. Jerry concluded his letter with thanks to "the strong, pure children of East Canton Elementary."

There was more to the letter, but I don't remember it. Barb read it to the classes that had sent the birthday cards. I should've framed it. Instead, I put it in a file folder in my office. Then it went into another file folder in another room, then into something else in some other place. The years became a decade, then two decades. In twenty years, we moved to three different towns and five different houses. First Joe Shuster, then Jerry Siegel passed away. After a while, I all but forgot about the letter.

I don't remember the last time I looked at it. All I know is a recent prolonged search for it yielded... nothing. I assume it was lost in the shuffle. I can't tell you what a thrill it was to get a personal letter from the creator of an American myth, how lousy its loss makes me feel.

Nevertheless, I'll always treasure the knowledge that, aided and abetted by some children, their teachers, and my wife, I was able to do something that touched two great men, super men. Locked down deep in my heart, it's a joy I'll never lose.

Don't miss the next thrill-packed episode: Flights of Fandom.

Other Miscellaneous Superman Stuff

Superman on Earth

9. Truth, Justice, and The Right to Read

Superman Scrapbooking Stickers

Superman Apple Watch Bands

Superman Plush Toys