“Superman is dead. Long live Superman,” shouts a 30-ish guy, fist clenched, arm waving wildly in the cold night air.
A hearse with the famous S emblazoned on its window pulls up, and a coffin draped in red is carried into the Toontown Comic Company, on Southport just south of Irving Park.
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The gallery is full of original comic-book art, but the big draw here are seven artboards in a cordoned-off corner at the back of the gallery. These are from the death issue, given to Johnson by his friend Dan Jurgens, the cartoonist who drew them.
Johnson doesn’t have the originals–the 22-page Doomsday edition has been consigned to auction, he says. But these seven stats are nonetheless fascinating to the crowd that gathers to stare at every detail.
Back at the front of the gallery, Johnson greets everyone entering. “Hey man, look at this,” a young guy shouts, pointing to the Madonna portrait that is inexplicably mixed in with the Superman stuff. “Is this for sale?”
The lady takes a look. “Really, in real life?”
I manage to get inside of Toontown after nearly an hour. Dale Harrah, who owns the shop with his wife Vickie, is frantic. “There were four boxes of these comic books back there and only three now. Where are they?” He rushes into the back to check.
