  I wandered into science-fiction
fandom late in 1952, apparently having confused it with a gent's washroom. In those
days, I resided in Fond du Lac, Wisconsin and made my rather precarious living as a
traveling salesman in sheet metal and heating supplies. The annual sheet metal
convention was held in Milwaukee toward the latter part of a given January. By the
time the SM con came along, I'd received enough fanzines to become aware that one
Robert Bloch resided in Milwaukee and I was able to make arrangement to get together
with him some evening when nothing demanding was on my schedule for the
convention.Thus it came to pass that Bloch was
the first s-f fan I ever met. It's true he was also an s-f pro at the same time,
but he was as much a fan as anyone who ever donned a helicopter beanie.In those days, Bloch didn't drive
automobiles although I understand he learned to do so after moving to the Los
Angeles area, several years later. If he wanted to go from point A to point B, he
usually took a Greyhound bus, seeming to prefer them over trains.It was some time after that initial
encounter in January of 1953 that the Blochs decided to move to Weyauwega, Wisconsin.
I'm not certain but believe it was because he had relatives there. It was a tiny
hamlet and I'd assume it still is; an unlikely spot to serve as home base for an
author.I made my tours of duty during the
first four days of the week, calling on my local dealers on Fridays. I covered the
lower eastern portion of Wisconsin and other salesmen covered the rest of our
territory, on a three-week schedule. I didn't get into Milwaukee but I did make
what I thought of as the Clintonville trip and that took me through the general
vicinity of Weyauwega so it was a simple matter to stop at the Bloch house on the
way back home. As you faced the house from the street, his office was in an
upstairs room at the right front corner and it was furnished with a straight-backed
chair, a desk supporting a typewriter, and some manner of chaise lounge or daybed
over between the corner windows, plus several well-filled bookcases.The right-hand end of the typewriter
carriage was heavily encrusted with tars and injurious resins because Bloch kept an
ashtray where the smoke would curl up past the end of the carriage. As a usual rule,
he used a cigarette holder and I can't recall having ever seen him smoke without the
holder.
Either the desk was short on the
right rear corner or perhaps the floor sagged a bit at about that point; maybe it
was a little of both. At any rate, the desk was prone to teeter back and forth in
a manner Bloch found painfully distracting. Then, as now, I was into home shop
woodworking -- which Bloch most assuredly was not -- so I volunteered to see about
constructing a replacement for the nervous desk.I made my rounds in a large Oldsmobile
station wagon in those days and it was no great challenge to make up a few component
pieces that could be hauled along on the trip and assembled on the site. At the
right rear of the new desk, I included a little rotary cam with a lever to adjust
it, and a locking bolt to make it stay put. It worked, as do most of my brainstorms
and, as with few exceptions, it wasn't at all pretty. But it did support the
typewriter at a comfortable working height and it did not rock nor teeter by so much
as a fraction of an Angstrom unit. Bloch professed himself well pleased with the
artifact and continued to use it during his stay in Weyauwega.Which means, if I can claim no other
distinction, I built the desk on which the manuscript for Psycho was
written.I used to flake out on the lounge
while Bloch remained at his desk, and recall once noting a spider spinning a network
across the ceiling. I pointed and said, "I suppose you call him Jack Webb?""No, it's a female and I'm surprised
you spied her," was his rapid riposte.I believe Bloch started working on a
television show while they still lived in Milwaukee. The show was called It's a
Draw! and featured a rapid cartoonist whose name -- if memory serves -- was Sid
Snow. At the start, by way of an example, Sid would sketch a man in armor next to
an apparatus for distillation and you were supposed to interpret that as, "In the
still of the (k)night." The gimmick was that Sid would dash off a cartoon as Bloch
and his co-panelists strove to come up with the correct title.The year came to be 1956 and one of
the hot news items of the day was the upcoming nuptials of Grace Kelly and Prince
Ranier of Monaco. The Blochs were in Weyauwega by that time and Bloch would travel
to Milwaukee via Greyhound to do his stint on the show. There was a short layover
in Fond du Lac before he caught the bus that took him to Milwaukee, and I'd stop
down at the Greyhound depot to visit for a bit as he passed through.On this particular occasion, I asked
him if he'd heard la Kelly's honeymoon plans. Ever the perfect straight man, he
cocked an inquiring eyebrow."She's going to Mount Ranier
[...beat...] or, perhaps, vice versa."Bloch proceeded to generate more
raucous mirth than I thought justified by the modest jape but that was one of his
more admirable traits. The Milwaukee bus came fuming in, Bloch climbed aboard, and
I went back home. Later in the evening, we tuned in his TV show and, rather early
in the proceedings, the master of ceremonies made some passing reference to Grace
Kelly.Whereupon, Bloch and the other three
panelists absolutely dissolved in madcap mirth and dribbled off the edge of the
table onto the floor. The face of the master of ceremonies was a classic study in
total befuddlement and it must have puzzled most viewers considerably. We, however,
could tell Bloch's fellow panelists had gotten word on Grace's honeymoon plans, but
the emcee remained in the dark about the matter.Another time, Canadian friend Bill
Stavdal was visiting and we'd tuned in It's A Draw! for his benefit. Bloch
managed to work in a throwaway line: "I think it looks like Bill Stavdal!" Stavdal
was totally, utterly mindblown.# # # #
A lot of years have passed since that
time. We both eventually moved from Wisconsin to California, but for one reason or
another, never seemed to see much of each other after that. I think I'll always
remember Robert Bloch as I knew him back in Wisconsin -- he was an inveterate
humorist, a great writer, an even better friend.And yes, I'll miss him a
lot. - - - - - - - - - -
One thing we should mention about Robert Bloch is that he enjoyed and always had
time for fandom. He was a recipient of Mimosa, and responded to every issue
received by sending us a postcard containing a witty comment or two. There's
probably a sub-sub-fandom consisting of people who have received Bloch postcards,
we're guessing. Buck Coulson wrote us that "we have a fair number of Bloch
postcards around here somewhere [commenting on Yandro]. I recall when our
son was born, he sent us some advice for parents: 'Never feed the baby liquids. Dry
food, dry baby.' And other such examples of Bloch logic." Steve George wrote us
that "whenever I tried to explain to people why I published a fanzine and gave it
away for free, I would tell them about my postcards from Robert Bloch. It always
amazes me to think that one of my first letters of comment was from 'the guy who
wrote Psycho'."One other notable humorist of the
1950s was featured in M17 -- John Berry, a member of the legendary Irish
Fandom for many years. He has also been one of the best, most entertaining fan
writers, not only of the 1950s, but subsequent decades as well, as the following
article shows:All illustrations by Charlie Williams |
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