B.C.

One of my favorite memories as a child was sneaking into my parent's closet. It was a "long", narrow, carpeted walk-in closet that, in addition to clothing, held shelves and shelves of books. Laying down head-in, face first, on that floor was where I first read books like The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe and The Hobbit. But it also held my father's stash of B.C. paperback books.

I remember spending hours and hours reading those old comic strip collections from the 70's. The first time I read them, I'm sure I didn't even understand half of them. (Clams got scruples? Dad, what's a scruple?) I would read them for the visual gags, but every once in awhile I would understand some of the dialog, which just icing on the cake for this 8-year old. I know I broke the spines on most of the books, which were yellowing even when I first started picking them up. (Come to think of it, I think I wore down many-a book in that closet. Sorry Dad!)

Johnny Hart died of a stroke yesterday at his drawing table. I never really enjoyed the weekly strip growing up as much as I did those old classics from the seventies, but B.C. has a special place in my heart. As he was a Christian, we know he's now in a far better place.

Happy Easter, Johnny Hart.