A finely wrought coming-of-age memoir about the author's relationship with her beloved grandfather Joe Simon, cartoonist and co-creator of Captain America. In the 1990s, Megan Margulies's Upper West Side neighborhood was marked by addicts shooting up in subway stations, frequent burglaries, and the "Wild Man of 96th Street," who set fires under cars and heaved rocks through stained glass church windows. The world inside her parents' tiny one-bedroom apartment was hardly a respite, with a family of five--including some loud personalities--eventually occupying the 550-square-foot space. Salvation arrived in the form of her spirited grandfather, Daddy Joe, whose midtown studio became a second home to Megan. There, he listened to her woes, fed her Hungry Man frozen dinners, and simply let her be. His living room may have been dominated by the drawing table, notes, and doodles that marked him as Joe Simon the cartoonist. But for Megan, he was always Daddy Joe: an escape from her increasingly hectic home, a nonjudgmental voice whose sense of humor was as dry as his farfel, and a steady presence in a world that felt off balance. Evoking New York City both in the 1980s and '90s and during the Golden Age of comics in the 1930s and '40s, My Captain America flashes back from Megan's story to chart the life and career of Rochester-native Joe Simon, from his early days retouching publicity photos and doing spot art for magazines, to his partnership with Jack Kirby at Timely Comics (the forerunner of Marvel Comics), which resulted in the creation of beloved characters like Captain America, the Boy Commandos, Fighting American, and The Fly. My Captain America offers a tender and sharply observed account of Megan's life with Daddy Joe--and an intimate portrait of the creative genius who gave us one of the most enduring superheroes of all time.
A finely wrought coming-of-age memoir about the author's relationship with her beloved grandfather Joe Simon, cartoonist and co-creator of Captain America. In the 1990s, Megan Margulies's Upper West Side neighborhood was marked by addicts shooting up in subway stations, frequent burglaries, and the "Wild Man of 96th Street," who set fires under cars and heaved rocks through stained glass church windows. The world inside her parents' tiny one-bedroom apartment was hardly a respite, with a family of five--including some loud personalities--eventually occupying the 550-square-foot space. Salvation arrived in the form of her s