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Piper Renee 1 The Long Box of Childhood Memories · Piper Renee

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  Speaker 1: Hello, my dear friends, and welcome back into the studio.
• 0:04
  Speaker 1: I am Piper Renee Dixon, and you are listening to
• 0:07
  Speaker 1: Piper Renee. Today, we are settling in for a longer,
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  Speaker 1: deeper story. So whether you are out on a long
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  Speaker 1: highway drive, working on an art project at your table,
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  Speaker 1: or relaxing on the couch with a warm mug in
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  Speaker 1: your hands, make yourself completely at home. Before we begin,
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  Speaker 1: I want to ask from the bottom of my heart
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  Speaker 1: and heartfelt stories. Your support is the heartbeat of this
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  Speaker 1: independent show. And please remember that our full archive of
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  Speaker 1: episodes is always waiting for you right on the podcast
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  Speaker 1: feed whenever you want to spend an hour together. Today,
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  Speaker 1: I want to talk to you about those white cardboard
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  Speaker 1: boxes that every comic book collector knows by heart, the
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  Speaker 1: long box. If you have ever walked into a comic
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  Speaker 1: book shop or a collector's basement, you have seen them.
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  Speaker 1: They are simple, white corrugated cardboard boxes, about 28 inches long,
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  Speaker 1: designed to hold roughly 250 comic books standing upright in
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  Speaker 1: clear plastic sleeves with white backing boards. To an outsider,
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  Speaker 1: a long box just looks like a heavy box of
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  Speaker 1: old paper taking up space in a closet. Yet, to
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  Speaker 1: anyone who has ever loved comics or manga, a long
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  Speaker 1: box is not storage. A long box is a diary
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  Speaker 1: of a human life. When you flip through a person's
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  Speaker 1: comic box from front to back, you are looking at
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  Speaker 1: the exact timeline of who they were, what they were
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  Speaker 1: afraid of, who they loved, and what kept them going
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  Speaker 1: through every season of their youth. Two autumns ago, on
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  Speaker 1: a crisp Saturday morning in October, I drove out to
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  Speaker 1: a quiet estate sale in a small town about 40
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  Speaker 1: miles outside the city. The house belonged to a retired
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  Speaker 1: high school science teacher named Mr. Miller, who was 81
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  Speaker 1: years old and downsizing to move into a smaller apartment
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  Speaker 1: near his daughter. Most of the people at the sale
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  Speaker 1: were looking at kitchen tables, garden tools, and vintage lamps
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  Speaker 1: in the driveway. I wandered into the back sunroom where
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  Speaker 1: the morning light was coming through the glass onto an
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  Speaker 1: old wooden bookcase. And sitting under the window were two
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  Speaker 1: battered white cardboard long boxes with the words Danny and Leo.
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  Speaker 1: 1972 to 1986, written across the cardboard lids in faded
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  Speaker 1: black marker. Mr. Miller was sitting in a wicker chair
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  Speaker 1: in the corner of the sunroom, drinking coffee from a
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  Speaker 1: ceramic mug. He saw me kneeling on the rug beside
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  Speaker 1: the boxes and asked me gently, Do you actually read them,
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  Speaker 1: young lady? Or are you one of those dealers who
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  Speaker 1: just wants to lock them in plastic cases and sell
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  Speaker 1: them on the internet? I smiled, pulled my sketchbook out
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  Speaker 1: of my canvas bag to show him my ink drawings,
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  Speaker 1: and told him that to me, a comic book locked
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  Speaker 1: in a hard plastic slab that nobody can ever open
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  Speaker 1: again is the saddest thing in the world. Because comics
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  Speaker 1: were made to be held in human hands and read, Mr.
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  Speaker 1: Miller's whole face lit up he motioned to the wooden
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  Speaker 1: footstool beside his chair and said, Sit down for ten minutes.
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  Speaker 1: And let me tell you whose boxes those are before
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  Speaker 1: you decide if you want to take them home. And
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  Speaker 1: for the next hour, while strangers carried furniture out of
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  Speaker 1: the front house, Mr. Miller told me the story of
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  Speaker 1: his two younger brothers, Danny and Leo, and the long
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  Speaker 1: boxes under the window. He told me that back in
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  Speaker 1: the early 1970s, their family lived on a small farm
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  Speaker 1: down the road. And money was tight. Danny was 12
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  Speaker 1: and Leo was 10. Every Saturday morning in the summer,
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  Speaker 1: the two boys would mow lawns, stack firewood for neighbors,
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  Speaker 1: and collect empty glass soda bottles along the highway to
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  Speaker 1: trade in for the five-cent deposit at the corner grocery store,
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  Speaker 1: when they had saved up two dollars between them. They
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  Speaker 1: would ride their bicycles four miles into town to the
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  Speaker 1: local drugstore. where a spinning wire rack of comic books
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  Speaker 1: stood right next to the ice cream freezer. Have you
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  Speaker 1: ever heard an older collector talk about the spinning wire
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  Speaker 1: rack at the corner drugstore? There was a magic to
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  Speaker 1: that wire rack that is hard to explain to anyone
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  Speaker 1: who grew up with the internet. Back then. There was
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  Speaker 1: no way to look up when the next issue of
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  Speaker 1: your favorite comic was coming out. You couldn't order it
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  Speaker 1: on a phone. You just had to ride your bike
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  Speaker 1: to the store every week. Spin that squeaky metal rack
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  Speaker 1: around with your hand and pray that the new issue
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  Speaker 1: of Superman or Fantastic Four or the uncanny X-Men had
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  Speaker 1: arrived on the delivery truck. And if you missed an
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  Speaker 1: issue because you had the flu that week or because
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  Speaker 1: the truck didn't bring enough copies. You didn't know what
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  Speaker 1: happened in the story until you found a kid at
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  Speaker 1: school who bought it and was willing to trade with you. Mr.
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  Speaker 1: Miller reached into the first box and pulled out a well-read.
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  Speaker 1: Soft-spined copy of Superman, issue number 247, from 1972. Along
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  Speaker 1: with an early English paperback translation of Osamu Tezuka's Astro
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  Speaker 1: Boy that their uncle had brought back from a Navy
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  Speaker 1: trip to Japan. Look at the inside cover of that comic, Mr.
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  Speaker 1: Miller said to me. I opened the cover carefully. At
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  Speaker 1: the top of the first page, written in blue ballpoint pen,
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  Speaker 1: were two sets of initials, D.M., Read Tuesday, L.M., Read Wednesday, Mr.
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  Speaker 1: Miller smiled and explained that because the boys could only
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  Speaker 1: afford one copy of each comic book, they had a
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  Speaker 1: strict brotherhood rule. Whoever paid the extra nickel got to
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  Speaker 1: read the issue first on Tuesday night under the bedroom lamp,
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  Speaker 1: and the other brother got to read it on Wednesday night.
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  Speaker 1: and neither brother was allowed to spoil the ending until
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  Speaker 1: both initials were written at the top of page one.
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  Speaker 1: We flipped further back into the box, into the late
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  Speaker 1: 1970s and early 1980s. The comics shifted to Chris Claremont
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  Speaker 1: and John Byens' legendary Run on the Uncanny X-Men, stories
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  Speaker 1: about young outsiders who were feared and misunderstood by the world,
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  Speaker 1: who found a family with each other when they felt
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  Speaker 1: like they didn't belong anywhere else. And right in the
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  Speaker 1: middle of the 1982 stack, I noticed something strange. For
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  Speaker 1: about 14 issues in a row. There was only one
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  Speaker 1: set of initials written inside the front cover. D. M.
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  Speaker 1: And tucked inside each of those 14 comic bags was
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  Speaker 1: a folded sheet of lined yellow notebook paper. I looked
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  Speaker 1: up at Mr. Miller. And his eyes had grown quiet
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  Speaker 1: and soft. He said, In the autumn of 1981, when
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  Speaker 1: Leo was 19, he got sick with leukemia and had
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  Speaker 1: to spend six months in the city hospital, two hours away.
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  Speaker 1: Our family only had one old pickup truck, so Danny
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  Speaker 1: could only drive down to visit him on Sunday afternoons.
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  Speaker 1: Every Tuesday, Danny still went to the store and bought
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  Speaker 1: their weekly comics. He would read them on Tuesday night,
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  Speaker 1: write his initials at the top, and then he would
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  Speaker 1: take a sheet of yellow notebook paper. and write a
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  Speaker 1: two-page review and summary of the issue, complete with little
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  Speaker 1: hand-drawn stick figures of Wolverine and Cyclops in the margins,
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  Speaker 1: and mail the comic end. The letter to Leo's hospital room,
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  Speaker 1: every Wednesday morning, so Leo wouldn't miss a single week. Mr.
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  Speaker 1: Miller reached into the box, pulled out one of the
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  Speaker 1: yellow notebook pages from November 1981, and handed it to me,
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  Speaker 1: at the bottom of the yellow page. Underneath Danny's funny
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  Speaker 1: summary of the X-Men fighting Magneto, Leo had written back
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  Speaker 1: in shaky red marker before bringing the comics home on Sundays. L. M.
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  Speaker 1: Read Friday in room 304. Tell Cyclops I'm hanging in there.
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  Speaker 1: Bring chocolate milk on Sunday. I had to blink back
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  Speaker 1: tears right there on the sunroom floor. Mr. Miller smiled
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  Speaker 1: warmly and said, Don't look sad, young lady. Leo beat
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  Speaker 1: that sickness. He came home from the hospital in the
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  Speaker 1: spring of 1982, went back to college, became a veterinarian,
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  Speaker 1: and today he lives in Montana with four grandkids and
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  Speaker 1: three dogs. When Danny passed away peacefully a few years ago,
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  Speaker 1: Leo told me to keep the two boxes together until
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  Speaker 1: I found someone who understood that those comics weren't worth
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  Speaker 1: money because of a price guide. They were worth everything
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  Speaker 1: because they kept two brothers holding hands across a dark winter. Mr.
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  Speaker 1: Millay refused to take more than $ 20 for both boxes,
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  Speaker 1: and only on the condition that I promised never to
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  Speaker 1: split the collection up and never to throw away the
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  Speaker 1: yellow notebook pages tucked inside the sleeves. Today, those two
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  Speaker 1: white boxes sit on the highest, most honored shelf in
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  Speaker 1: my studio. Whenever someone asks me why grown adults still
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  Speaker 1: care so deeply about comic books, manga, and animated stories,
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  Speaker 1: I walk over to that shelf, and I show them
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  Speaker 1: issue 153 of The Uncanny X-Men, the issue where Kitty
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  Speaker 1: Pryde tells a bedtime fairy tale to a little girl,
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  Speaker 1: with Danny's yellow notebook letter still folded. Inside the sleeve.
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  Speaker 1: And Leo's red initials at the top of page one.
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  Speaker 1: Think about what stories actually do for us in this life.
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  Speaker 1: Why did humanity invent comic strips and manga volumes and
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  Speaker 1: picture books in the first place? Because sometimes... Real life
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  Speaker 1: is too heavy to carry. without a story to help
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  Speaker 1: us lift it. When you are 10 years old and
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  Speaker 1: the world feels huge and confusing, Superman teaches you that
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  Speaker 1: someone strong can also be gentle and kind. When you
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  Speaker 1: are 14 and feel like you don't fit in at school,
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  Speaker 1: the X-Men or Naruto... Or My Hero Academia teaches you
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  Speaker 1: that the very things that make you different are your
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  Speaker 1: greatest strengths. And when you are 19, lying in room
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  Speaker 1: 304 of a city hospital waiting for Sunday to come around,
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  Speaker 1: a 60-cent comic book arriving in the Wednesday mail with
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  Speaker 1: a funny note from your older brother is the lifeline
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  Speaker 1: that reminds you that you are loved, that the story
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  Speaker 1: isn't over yet, and that there is always another issue
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  Speaker 1: coming next month Look at the world of fans who
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  Speaker 1: gather around these stories today. When you walk through an
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  Speaker 1: anime convention or a local comic book shop on a
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  Speaker 1: Saturday afternoon, you see kids in homemade cardboard armor talking
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  Speaker 1: to 60-year-old collectors wearing vintage Batman shirts. You see shy
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  Speaker 1: teenagers who struggled to make friends in their hometowns suddenly
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  Speaker 1: finding five best friends because they all love the same
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  Speaker 1: manga series. These stories are not an escape from human connection.
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  Speaker 1: They are one of the greatest bridges to human connection
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  Speaker 1: we have ever built. Before I left Mr. Miller's house
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  Speaker 1: that October morning, carrying those two heavy cardboard boxes out
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  Speaker 1: to the trunk of my car, he walked me down
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  Speaker 1: the driveway under the yellow maple leaves. He patted the
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  Speaker 1: top of the cardboard lid and said, take good care
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  Speaker 1: of the boys' books, Piper, and if you ever let
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  Speaker 1: a kid read them, Make sure they put their initials
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  Speaker 1: at the top of the page so the story keeps going. So,
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  Speaker 1: my friend, whether your favorite memories are tied to a
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  Speaker 1: spinning wire rack at an old corner drugstore, a stack
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  Speaker 1: of black and white manga volumes on your bedroom shelf,
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  Speaker 1: or an anime movie you watched with your siblings on
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  Speaker 1: a rainy Saturday morning, treasure those stories. Never let anyone
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  Speaker 1: make you feel too old to love heroes or magic
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  Speaker 1: or drawings on paper. Share your favorite books with the
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  Speaker 1: people you love. Write a note inside the cover. And
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  Speaker 1: remember that every time we pass a story to someone else,
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  Speaker 1: we are keeping each other company through the dark. Thank you,
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  Speaker 1: from the very bottom of my heart, for spending this long.
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  Speaker 1: Special time with me today on Piper Renee. If this
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  Speaker 1: story touched your heart, please remember to give us your
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  Speaker 1: moral support by tapping that follow button, leaving a kind
• 12:38
  Speaker 1: five-star rating or review on your podcast app. and exploring
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  Speaker 1: the rest of our episodes waiting for you anytime on
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  Speaker 1: the feed. I am Piper Renee Dixon. Keep your long
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  Speaker 1: boxes full of memories. Be a hero to someone who
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  Speaker 1: needs a friend today. And I will talk to you
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  Speaker 1: on the very next episode.