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Memoirs of a Superfluous Fan, 1944

Page 15

  THE MEETING OF DECEMBER 16, 1937, concluded my first chronological year in the Society.  Looking at the roster for that meeting, I see a list of names of people, most of whom no more than three persons now affiliated with the Society could remember.  And furthermore, knowing them as I did, I doubt if they would fit into the Society as of December 1943.  They were a different type of scientifiction fan.

  One of the very few social events of the year 1937 was an extra meeting at Morojo's to celebrate the first issue of IMAGINATION!  It was here that Hal Clark brought his brother Victor Clark.  Hal Clark, an occassional attender in those times, was a little rotund, red-faced creature in his mid-thirties.  Whence and whither of him I know nothing.  I seemed to like him for virtually no reason at all, except that he reminded me of one of those small, round, manaquins that teeter and loll precariously about on a half-spherical bottom, always smiling and never upsetting.  His brother was quite the opposite.  Like member Franklyn Brady, he had and has a speach impediment.  His attempts to discuss complicated sociological or psychological matters are thus often rendered difficult.  Victor Clark was a full-time student, and he has been going to U.C.L.A every since I first met him, working towards a Ph.D. Vic was around the bunch a bit even as late as 1943.

   There are other characters that fit into the Chapter at the close of 1937.  Corinne Grey was rather regular in her attendance; she was a junior at Los Angeles High School.  She later became known as Pogo, now signing her name as Mrs. Russell M. Wood.  She has a baby son, name of Kurt.  Charles Gurnett was another obscure figure that flitted in and out of the club until late in 1939.  I remember him vividly for the sole reason that he reminded me in a faint manner of Lovecraft.  He seemed to have the respect of the Kuttner-Shroyer clique, and theywould all sit together talking weighty matters together for many hours of an evening.

   Guests at that last meeting in 1937 included an obscure young artist, a friend of Ray Bradbury, names Hannes Bok!  Emil Petaja made his initial appearance on the same occasion.  The officers of the club stood as follows:  Russ Hodgkins was reelected to a second term as Director, a dual secretary-ship comprising alternatively Perry L. Lewis and Roy A. Squires, Hodgkins as Treasurer, and I believe Alvan Mussen (now missing on Bataan) as Librarian.

  We used to have a Christmas party on the night of the election, which included a scientifictional grab-bag.  At the first Party I received a Buck Rogers water pistol.  The following year it was a bottle of whiskey which I was too young to appreciate.  And the last party the following year saw me make off with a useless book.  My luck in grab bags and the like has always been abominable.

  As I look back at that first year and its impressions, I wonder if I would have remembered the club any other way, had I been, for instance, of my present age and nature.  I might have found it unutterably boreing.  But I don't think so.  I like to think that the Los Angeles Chapter of the Science Fiction League was at its best then, and in the year following.  One looks back on the society of the nineteenth century and imagines that it possessed something more stable which is lacking today.  Most likely this is so much balderdash.  None-the-less, I'm glad I was a member of that bunch of people, because I can thus appreciate an aspect of fan history altogether missing from present day activities, be it for better or worse.
       
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THE MEETING OF DECEMBER 16, 1937, concluded my first chronological year in the Society. Looking at the roster for that meeting, I see a list of names of people, most of whom no more than three persons now affiliated with the Society could remember. And furthermore, knowing them as I did, I doubt if they would fit into the Society as of December 1943. They were a different type of scientifiction fan. One of the very few social events of the year 1937 was an extra meeting at Morojo's to celebrate the first issue of IMAGINATION! It was here that Hal Clark brought his brother Victor Clark. Hal Clark, an occassional attender in those times, was a little rotund, red-faced creature in his mid-thirties. Whence and whither of him I know nothing. I seemed to like him for virtually no reason at all, except that he reminded me of one of those small, round, manaquins that teeter and loll precariously about on a half-spherical bottom, always smiling and never upsetting. His brother was quite the opposite. Like member Franklyn Brady, he had and has a speach impediment. His attempts to discuss complicated sociological or psychological matters are thus often rendered difficult. Victor Clark was a full-time student, and he has been going to U.C.L.A every since I first met him, working towards a Ph.D. Vic was around the bunch a bit even as late as 1943. There are other characters that fit into the Chapter at the close of 1937. Corinne Grey was rather regular in her attendance; she was a junior at Los Angeles High School. She later became known as Pogo, now signing her name as Mrs. Russell M. Wood. She has a baby son, name of Kurt. Charles Gurnett was another obscure figure that flitted in and out of the club until late in 1939. I remember him vividly for the sole reason that he reminded me in a faint manner of Lovecraft. He seemed to have the respect of the Kuttner-Shroyer clique, and theywould all sit together talking weighty matters together for many hours of an evening. Guests at that last meeting in 1937 included an obscure young artist, a friend of Ray Bradbury, names Hannes Bok! Emil Petaja made his initial appearance on the same occasion. The officers of the club stood as follows: Russ Hodgkins was reelected to a second term as Director, a dual secretary-ship comprising alternatively Perry L. Lewis and Roy A. Squires, Hodgkins as Treasurer, and I believe Alvan Mussen (now missing on Bataan) as Librarian. We used to have a Christmas party on the night of the election, which included a scientifictional grab-bag. At the first Party I received a Buck Rogers water pistol. The following year it was a bottle of whiskey which I was too young to appreciate. And the last party the following year saw me make off with a useless book. My luck in grab bags and the like has always been abominable. As I look back at that first year and its impressions, I wonder if I would have remembered the club any other way, had I been, for instance, of my present age and nature. I might have found it unutterably boreing. But I don't think so. I like to think that the Los Angeles Chapter of the Science Fiction League was at its best then, and in the year following. One looks back on the society of the nineteenth century and imagines that it possessed something more stable which is lacking today. Most likely this is so much balderdash. None-the-less, I'm glad I was a member of that bunch of people, because I can thus appreciate an aspect of fan history altogether missing from present day activities, be it for better or worse. ** ** ** ** **