Harvey Pekar wrote the first story of my first comic book and helped me get started as a cartoonist, and for that I'll be eternally grateful. He saw something in me that almost no one else did, considering that I had hardly been published anywhere at the time. I wasn't a regular AMERICAN SPLENDOR artist, but the last thing I did with Pekar was doing a chapter with him on a graphic novel adaptation of Studs Terkel's WORKING. I liked Harvey's handwritten (and at times barely readable) breakdowns, along with his stick figure scrawls. His seemingly simple directions and suggestions were simultaneously spare and profound.
I had a nice conversation with Harvey the last time he was in Seattle. After reading his obit, it reminds me of how my dad died. He was also found between his bed and a dresser. Harvey Pekar sported a gruff exterior that masked a kind and generous soul.
