Number 834

The Creekmore Curse

So! Hallowe'en tonight, eh? Just before preparing this posting I wired the doorbell to give electric shocks. That's for the trick or treaters who make it past the moat...and the alligators...and the land mines, that is.

"The Creekmore Curse" is, I believe, Al Feldstein's only story for ACG. It was published in Adventures Into The Unknown #3 in late 1948, when Al was still freelancing for Bill Gaines at EC. To my knowledge it pre-dates any of the horror stories he did for Gaines.

Feldstein did a fine job on the artwork here, too. It's obvious he took some care. Maybe he was cultivating ACG as a potential client, but then swung his loyalties to Gaines. If you see Al would you ask him for me, please?

What's that sound? Ha-ha! I just heard the doorbell ring and the shriek of the electrocuted. Oh, it'll be a fine Hallowe'en after all.

Number 833

The dancing girls and the cult of killers!

Hallowe'en is in two days...and this is not a Hallowe'en story. Sorry to disappoint, but it does have a masquerade of sorts, and people wearing masks. They're all members of an opium-smoking, dancing girl-watching cult. I'm always interested in good cults, and if you know of any would you sponsor me for membership? Besides this blog, there isn't much for me to do in retirement. I'm not looking for anything satanic, but sex and/or UFOs would be acceptable. Especially a UFO sex cult. (If one does not exist I may have to invent it.)

Enough of that...the story is from Wanted #52, from 1953. The artwork is credited by the Grand Comics Database to Harry Anderson. I'm fairly certain this is the first story of Anderson's I've ever posted. He was a solid pro who worked in comics until the 1950s. Wanted was published by Orbit, whose publisher was listed as Ray Hermann, which was a pseudonym for Ruth Hermann. You'll notice a screw-up with the dates in the Cult of Killers story...the body is found in 1948 and the execution of the murderer is four years earlier.

Wanted had a gimmick, which was to offer $100 rewards for the capture of criminals profiled in the comics. Here's a typical Wanted wanted poster:

I wonder if anyone ever collected that $100.








After posting this story I need to get busy furthering my Hallowe'en preparations. I have my moat filled with water and alligators. Today I'm planting landmines in case any of the trick or treaters get past the 'gators.

Number 832

Curse Of The Werewolf

Hallowe'en will be here in a couple of days. I've got the moat filled, full of hungry alligators. C'mon to my house, kids! I've got to feed those 'gators or they'll come after me.

My second Wednesday werewolf post is an adaptation of Curse Of The Werewolf, a Hammer Film from about 1960. My brother and I saw the movie, first run, at a dumpy theater during a Saturday matinee. The air was full of flying popcorn and occasionally the dialogue could be heard above the din of the rowdy crowd. But we loved it. We'd seen Lon Chaney Jr. doing his Wolfman thing on the local Nightmare Theater and we thought hairy guys with teeth who ran around biting people were mighty cool.

Written by Steve Moore, artwork by John Bolton:

Number 831

Cement Mixer, Put-ti Put-ti

Aw reet! Solid, Jackson! These two groovy (or "drooly" as Katie calls 'em) music stories both come from ACG's The Kilroys #1, 1947. I showed you another Kilroys story in Pappy's #694. In that posting I listed Bob Wickersham as the artist, with Hubie Karp sometimes credited for writing.

The song the kids are dancing to in "Jive Takes A Holiday" is "Cement Mixer Put-ti Put-ti," done by the great Slim Gaillard. There are some versions of the song on YouTube. This is a television performance done by Gaillard many years after the song was popular.

Even Themesong, from a 1946 Dick Tracy continuity, sang "Cement Mixer." The panel is from Gladstone's The Original Dick Tracy #5, 1991.

J. Edgar Kilroy's reaction to the music these 1947 teenagers listened to could have been my own father, Big Pappy, 20 years later in the mid-'60s, having a thrombo over the Rolling Stones. The irony here is that Big Pappy loved songs like "Cement Mixer," and the jumpin', jivin', be-boppin' music of the '40s.