Transcribe
Translate
Polaris, Tribute to Paul Freehafer, 1944
Page 2
More information
digital collection
archival collection guide
transcription tips
him. (Paul, himself, was, I think, an agnostic; no more, at least, than mildly religious.) I dreamed about him the night I learned he died. I dreamed I walked into the club room he was wont to frequent and he was sitting there and I spoke to him, and then I did a double take and was so happy because his death was all a hoax. I keep thinking about him yet, and looking up at the door, expecting him to walk in, back from Idaho, back from his home town, Payette, where the doctor ordered him for a rest, and where he died twenty-four hours after his arrival. Good old Paul, the modest, the self-effacing, who might have lived longer had he obliged others less, had he had more ego, if he'd put on his coat and taken care of himself, or had someone to look after him. But, with his well-concealed fatalistic attitude, perhaps he realized it would not be fair to try to share his life with that "sweet someone", when it was so likely to be snuffed out without warning. Several young ladies felt very fondly towards Paul. And he was my best friend. I corresponded with him ten years ago. And I remember when he first came to California. Roy Test, then a prominent fan, phoned me at Morojo's, in days before some of you might even remember, when she was known as Morogo. "Paul Freehafter was just here at my place," Test informed me. "He's coming to the next club meeting." And Roy included a first impression of Paul's face as being flat as a fence, or something of the sort. Paul admittedly wasn't a handsome devil. He wasn't a devil. Fandom never rated him in the top ten, but he rated tops with me. As a fan, and as a fellow. I was at his graduation from the University of Technology at Pasadena (famous for John Taine). I bunked with him at the Denvention. Many the night he drove me home from a club meeting, to sit outside my flat and talk stf with me. We shared several secrets. Paul, dear funny Paul, with his squinty eyes and scraggle of hair that always tried to fall down in them; he may have looked like a poor man's Stan Laurel--personally I often suspected him of being not of this earth, but perhaps a Martian in disguise--but he was a fine person, wholesome, intelligent, true-blue. A sterling character. Gentleman, scholar, stfan. His interest in scientifiction had a slight edge on fantasy, but Unknown was probably his favorite pro. His collection, of which it is said we have only seen the lesser portion, the best part being in Payette, must be classical. Second only to his interest in the imagi-nation was his passion for fine music, not sharing that taste with him; but I am certain it will be covered by others who knew him more intimately as the patronizer of the Bowl, the Philharmonic Auditorium, the ballet. . . Paul joined the LASFS on a fitting night for a weirdist: The 13th meeting of the club. It was the Los Angeles Science Fiction League, then (Chapter #4) and the date, September 16th, 1937. Those who met him that night, besides Morojo and myself, included Bruce Yerke, Russ Hodgkins, Pogo, George Tullis and Roy Test. Paul started reading science fiction with the April 1932 Astounding. "Skylark" and "Old Faithful" were a couple of his old favorites; Keller and Merritt; and he selected "Things to Come" as his favorite scientifilm. He knew German and had a fair knowledge of Esperanto. He published his own fan magazine, Polaris, for six issues, beginning December 1939. It featured fiction, verse and articles with a weird slant, by Lowndes, Barlow, Warner, Bradbury, Ackerman, Tucker, Rimel, Wollheim, Knight, Miske and Carnell. Named after the unwavering North Star, his publication was hailed everywhere as a paragon of fine amateur fantasy. He joined FAPA in 1939, served on the Laureate Committee, was very likely given an award himself.
Saving...
prev
next
him. (Paul, himself, was, I think, an agnostic; no more, at least, than mildly religious.) I dreamed about him the night I learned he died. I dreamed I walked into the club room he was wont to frequent and he was sitting there and I spoke to him, and then I did a double take and was so happy because his death was all a hoax. I keep thinking about him yet, and looking up at the door, expecting him to walk in, back from Idaho, back from his home town, Payette, where the doctor ordered him for a rest, and where he died twenty-four hours after his arrival. Good old Paul, the modest, the self-effacing, who might have lived longer had he obliged others less, had he had more ego, if he'd put on his coat and taken care of himself, or had someone to look after him. But, with his well-concealed fatalistic attitude, perhaps he realized it would not be fair to try to share his life with that "sweet someone", when it was so likely to be snuffed out without warning. Several young ladies felt very fondly towards Paul. And he was my best friend. I corresponded with him ten years ago. And I remember when he first came to California. Roy Test, then a prominent fan, phoned me at Morojo's, in days before some of you might even remember, when she was known as Morogo. "Paul Freehafter was just here at my place," Test informed me. "He's coming to the next club meeting." And Roy included a first impression of Paul's face as being flat as a fence, or something of the sort. Paul admittedly wasn't a handsome devil. He wasn't a devil. Fandom never rated him in the top ten, but he rated tops with me. As a fan, and as a fellow. I was at his graduation from the University of Technology at Pasadena (famous for John Taine). I bunked with him at the Denvention. Many the night he drove me home from a club meeting, to sit outside my flat and talk stf with me. We shared several secrets. Paul, dear funny Paul, with his squinty eyes and scraggle of hair that always tried to fall down in them; he may have looked like a poor man's Stan Laurel--personally I often suspected him of being not of this earth, but perhaps a Martian in disguise--but he was a fine person, wholesome, intelligent, true-blue. A sterling character. Gentleman, scholar, stfan. His interest in scientifiction had a slight edge on fantasy, but Unknown was probably his favorite pro. His collection, of which it is said we have only seen the lesser portion, the best part being in Payette, must be classical. Second only to his interest in the imagi-nation was his passion for fine music, not sharing that taste with him; but I am certain it will be covered by others who knew him more intimately as the patronizer of the Bowl, the Philharmonic Auditorium, the ballet. . . Paul joined the LASFS on a fitting night for a weirdist: The 13th meeting of the club. It was the Los Angeles Science Fiction League, then (Chapter #4) and the date, September 16th, 1937. Those who met him that night, besides Morojo and myself, included Bruce Yerke, Russ Hodgkins, Pogo, George Tullis and Roy Test. Paul started reading science fiction with the April 1932 Astounding. "Skylark" and "Old Faithful" were a couple of his old favorites; Keller and Merritt; and he selected "Things to Come" as his favorite scientifilm. He knew German and had a fair knowledge of Esperanto. He published his own fan magazine, Polaris, for six issues, beginning December 1939. It featured fiction, verse and articles with a weird slant, by Lowndes, Barlow, Warner, Bradbury, Ackerman, Tucker, Rimel, Wollheim, Knight, Miske and Carnell. Named after the unwavering North Star, his publication was hailed everywhere as a paragon of fine amateur fantasy. He joined FAPA in 1939, served on the Laureate Committee, was very likely given an award himself.
Hevelin Fanzines
sidebar
