Forrest J. Ackerman RIP

[Bogey]

Someone on another board pointed out that although the LA Times obit says that Forry had "no surviving family members", really there are millions of us.

Well put.   RIP Forry.

[Wicked Lester]

As long as there are monster kids Forry will live on. 

[typhooforme]

A couple years ago, at the Bash, when we were singing for hours on end, I brought up this song, and Forry said, "Oh, that was my grandfather's favorite!"  Forry used to say he was very fortunate to have "chosen exactly the right set of grandparents"--for they were the ones who were crazy about movies and who introduced Forry to the magic of the big screen.  This song was written in 1915, the year before Forry was born, and he heard his grandfather sing it many times.   Forry and I sang it together, 90 years later.  It's a fitting tribute to our favorite Uncle now:

"Night are growing very lonely,
Days are very long--
I'm a-growin' weary only
Listening for your song--
Old remembrances are thronging
Through my memory!
'Til it seems the world is full of dreams,
Just to call you back to me!

There's a long, long trail a-winding
Up to the land of my dreams--
Where the nightingales are singing
And a white moon beams--
There's a long, long night of waiting
Until my dreams all come true--
'Til the day when I'll be going
Down that long, long trail with you!"

[birch411]

Growing up in an isolated mining town in the 60's, Famous Monsters was a comfort and an inspiration.  Later when I met Forry and toured the Ackermansion I let him know how he mentored my love of monsters and sci-fi; an abiding love my entire life.  Thank you Forry.  I will miss you.

[michblk]

Man, this is tough.  Losing Bennie, Meek and now Uncle Forry within the same year.  My heart just sank when I read this.  I just am not sure what to say.  I grew up with Uncle Forry.  Although I only corresponded with him, I never met him but somehow felt like I knew him.  I now regret not meeting him, biting the bullet and flying out to LA.  He shared his life with all of us.  In my correspondence, he was always sending back some small autographed pic or answering my questions. It seems like I was buying some new book or magazine directly from him. 

FM 108 was the first issue I remember buying, as a kid in school had one.  This was my first experience with Uncle Forry.  I was a fan of monsters and found a magazine that made me feel good. 

I will miss you Uncle Forry, but your memories will be with me forever!

Brian

[Morkai]

f&*%kkk this is the worst new!!!

Forry rules!!! Rest in peace

[Toy Ranch]

From Max the Drunken Severed Head Blog:   http://drunkenseveredhead.blogspot.com/2008/12/goodbye-uncle-forry-famous-monsters.html

James Warren:

"This will be one funeral I never wanted to go to.
I always thought he would outlive me. I thought he would outlive everyone.
And in a way he will. They're going to remember his name long after we're gone.
A lot of people are saying he was a good man. He was not a good man.

He was a great man.

His friends adored him. His fans couldn't get enough of him.People he never met idolized him. His enemies hated him because he was a better man than they were.
During those golden years I was his publisher my emotions toward him ran from:

- Irritation
To amazement,
To admiration,
To fondness,
To affection,
To love.
True Love.
I was dazzled by his enthusiasm. Humbled by his abilities. Captivated by his style.
He was so good at what he did.

He was warm. He was funny.

He was precious.
That's why it's so terribly hard to say goodbye.

In all the years I knew him I never once heard him raise his voice in anger. He always spoke - and sang - in a quiet voice.

He spoke softly. He spoke low. He would always speak low.

Like the song:
"Time is so old,
But life is brief.
Forry was gold,
And time - a thief.
We're late,
It's getting late,
The curtain descends,
Everything ends
Too soon,
Too soon ..."

Now he's with the great Talents he loved.

Al Jolson.
Marlene Dietrich.
Sammy Davis.

To them we say: "Welcome him. Enjoy him."

We did.

For ninety-two years.
Forrest J Ackerman, it's time to get into that space ship and fly.

Fly right over the Horizon. Just like you used to. And while you're up there, look down and see the million lights shining on Planet Earth.

Each one is a young reader you influenced.

Each one is a part of the Legacy you gave to us.

So long, Forry. Have a good trip.

Have a great trip.
I'll see you later.
- Jim

Verne Langdon remembers Forry:

On Thurday, October 30, Joe Moe, my wonderful friend and caregiver/protector/compadre/right hand to Forrest J Ackerman -- phoned to tell me he was bringing Forry home from the hospital and that Forry had asked to see me.

I was one of a small group he had either the energy or the desire to see one last time - and I rearranged my business and personal matters and headed down the coast to him, even as another dear friend of equally many years-plus -- James Warren -- was doing the very same, granting Forry's wish and flying a far greater distance than I drove, for the very special time, last time in this lifetime at least, to be near to our dear "EF-JAY". The first day (October 31) I visited him his front lawn had been transformed into a cemetery, complete with headstones and skeletal hands reaching up from the soil.

I was appalled at the sight.

Who could be so callouse as to play such a ghoulish prank? Who? Who, indeed! Forry. That's who. It was Halloween, after all, and he wanted the children to have "the mood" of his favorite holiday. In the living room window some of his most-favorite frightening faces stared out for every trick-'r-treater to see and be spooked by! That's why he'd asked to be brought home from the hospital - so he could watch the kids come up his driveway on Halloween night - past the headstones and famous monsters in his window - to his porch and front door for their treats.

No tricks? Sadly, the "trick" is on all of US, that "trick" being that that was Forry's final Halloween.

You're going to hear a lot from people who have no idea of "what killed Forry": Heart attack.

Stroke.

Etc.

Truth be known, Pneumonia was his Prince Sirki, along with old age and natural causes.

Plus he was tired of not "being able to taste" his food.

By his own woeful description to me, "I'll never be able to taste a hot dog again." What is life without being able to taste a hot dog? No life at all. And so, his hourglass was on "empty".

On October 31st when I saw him he could barely sign his name. He was kept warm by, of all things, a black blanket with little white dancing skeletons printed all over it. I told him I thought it was sick, and he was absolutely delighted with my sincerely-horrified reaction. Forry was intent on regaling me with stories about him and Jim and their bad-boy "exploits" in the Big Apple and elsewhere. He of course assaulted me with "Baby Face" as only Forry can sing it, and we whiled away the very precious time smiling, laughing (weakly), and more than once my tears rolled freely down my cheeks, as when he made great effort to tell me I was the "best" MC at any of his birthday bashes, "ever".

As I sat there with him, in the battered remnants of his once-massive-now-mini collection of magical monster and moonfan memorabilia, it became increasingly clear to me that for all his collection, Forry's most treasured, nay cherished "possessions" were not possessions at all, but rather accumulated favorite people nearest and dearest to him, his proteges, his Special ones, his feted ones, his Friends. Forry and Jim Warren made magazine history together, and so it is of course fitting that Jim Warren spent much of Forry's final days with him as well. I was with them for most of it as they sang Jolson songs together, laughed easily about times gone by, and loved one-another as always they did. I watched as long as my aching heart could take it, then I quietly stepped from the darkened room and cried like a baby. I was not the only one; Jim was affected the same way, as were others who paid their last living Respects.

FJA's work will survive him for all to see in back issues of his and Jim's magazines, on liner notes of my albums, in the fine script he penned for our "An Evening With Boris Karloff And His Friends" Decca LP album for all to hear, and so much more work elsewhere.


Forrest J Ackerman was a man among men, First in the field of One, an enigma both enigmatic and charismatic at the same moment, and - above ALL else - a true, genuine, bonifide, satisfaction-gay-ron-tee'd COLLECTOR, bigger and better than any other "collector" I've ever known.

In fact, Forrest J Ackerman was the "Grand Daddy" of them all, the prototype where all the other monster and sci-fi collectors actually learned to be "collectors."

Forrest J Ackerman: Once he was ours.

Now he belongs to The Ages.

Aloha, old Friend.

[avenger]

Forry's influence was far reaching.I just came from the John Wayne forum and Forry's
obit was posted there as well.
Happy Trails,Uncle Forry.

[Kenneth]

Forry..I hope you do wake up on the other side...pleasantly surprised. We will miss you. 

[neonnoodle]

Rest in peace, Uncle Forry.

[fmofmpls]

This was one of 4E's favorite songs. It's Baby Face by Al Jolson being performed by the Bluenote Dixie Band playing at Victoria Concert Hall in 2008.

This one's for my Uncle.   

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cso2zlGuzfY&feature=related

[Mego73]

I'm glad he lived such a long life but it's still terrible to see him go RIP Dr. Ackula

[fibbermac]

Reminds me of the day I heard that Lon Chaney Jr. had died...wanting to mourn, but not knowing where to go. At least now, I can go here.

[LonMadnight]

In a day, perhaps a few, I will be able to adequately express my sense of loss. For now all i can say is I'm glad i met him, glad he approved of my naming my production company "Forry's Kids", Glad that got a few precious pictures, and glad I was in an FM that he editied.

-We all have to carry the torch now, just don't wave it at me.

As much as Lon Chaney, now we must say:

Forrest Ackerman Shall Not Die.

[martinpowell]

I awoke this morning to find this notification in my email:

Forrest J Ackerman confirmed you as a friend on Facebook.

I appreciate the sublime irony in this technological miracle, but not as much as Forry would have.

I know he would have loved this.

Martin