A couple days ago, I was told that Rory Root, the owner of Comic Relief in Berkeley, had died. Under normal circumstances, the death of a bookstore owner would pass without too much notice, but Rory was special, and partially responsible for turning me into who I am today. Let me explain.
In my first couple of weeks at the dorms in Berkeley, I ran into a classic college freshman problem: I had no idea what I should do with all this free time. In my explorations of the south side of campus, I naturally gravitated to three places: Cody's Books on Telegraph, the Berkeley Bearcade, and a comic book shop known as Comics and Comix. Thanks to these three establishments (and, as I recall, fantasy football), my time was spent engrossed in nerdy pursuits instead of the usual vices of the newly liberated college kid.
While Cody's and the Bearcade were true geek havens, I never felt perfectly comfortable at Comics and Comix. It just didn't have the feel of a friendly book store. The store inhabited a space that was obviously too large, and the staff of the place felt like the jaded "I have evolved far beyond your petty concerns, minor geekling" set you'd find in your stereotypical Guitar Center or Kevin Smith movie, rather than people who truly liked what they were selling. Later that school year, I started expanding my range on the campus and explored the west side, where I discovered this tiny hole in the wall called Comic Relief, and it was the exact opposite of Comics and Comix.
It wasn't a wonderful place by any means. It was cramped. It got really uncomfortable on hot days. The light there wasn't the best. But they had BOOKS. Piles and piles of books. Books I'd never heard of, signed by people I'd never heard of but would come to love. Books printed by tiny publishers I'd never seen before. Books from long before I was born. Books that I was barely old enough to read. The place was piled high with dreams, and I dove right in. It became more like a pilgrimage than a trip weach week, discovering authors like Warren Ellis (who was a friend of Rory's and, in those days, made Comic Relief his only US stop) and Bill Willingham and... the list goes on and on.
I spent a couple years thinking that Comic Relief was a friendly little hole in the wall crossed with a second home. Much of my meager budget went straight into Comic Relief's register, paying for trade paperbacks and graphic novels to alleviate the guilt I felt for reading comics every week without having the money to spend on my habit. The staff didn't seem to mind yet another student whiling away the hours in their store, so I never felt TOO bad about it - but still, it's never comfortable to think that you're stealing.
Subtly, that store gave me a lot more than hours upon hours of entertainment. It helped shape me. A few months after I discovered Comic Relief, Largo offered to show me some of his scripts for MegaTokyo, and I jumped on the opportunity to jump into the comic world. My junior thesis for Visual Culture was written about Warren Ellis' Transmetropolitan. I could go on, but suffice to say - I would not be the same person were it not for the wonderfully welcoming environment created by Rory Root.
Even now, years after my graduation from the University of California, Berkeley, I feel a strong tie to that store. It's gotten bigger and moved down the street, but every Friday, my friends still gather there to catch up on comics and old times before heading out to dinner. I don't join them as often as I used to, since I live on the wrong side of the bay, but I don't think I'll ever consider any place other than Comic Relief to be my "local" comic book store. I spent way too much time there, and
while I didn't know Rory very well, he knew almost all of his customers on sight and wasn't afraid to crack jokes with us.
I'll miss the old man, but I'm thankful that the store is still being run by fine people in his absence. I bet there's a mousy little student at Berkeley right this moment who just got out of finals and is thinking the same kinds of thoughts that went through my head way back in my freshman year. Maybe he'll try his hand at writing, or drawing, or publishing... and Comic Relief will be there to support him.
Thanks, Rory.