There’s not much that I can say or add to what has already been said about the work and life of Kubert. What I will say is that his work was important to me. Along with Jack Kirby, Kubert was one of the first names I connected with a particular style of drawing. Some of my most cherished comic books were illustrated by the man. The covers of these battered beauties have been committed to my memory forever.
My brother John who is ten years older than me used to pick up comics from convenience stores and newsstands, read them and threw them to me. He favored war and western comics over the costumed crime fighters, and there always would be a pile of them around along with Alistair MacLean and Ian Fleming paperbacks. All of the comics he read seemed to be drawn by this guy Joe Kubert. The stories may not have been the greatest, but I was mesmerized by the art.
War and Western comics seemed to have completely vanished by the time the mid-1970s rolled around. My brother was married and out of the house, and I was buying my own comics which were mainly super-heroes. I’m not sure why the cowboys and soldiers vanished from the spinning racks. I assumed it was because the military draft ended and the steady supply of bored GI readers dropped off.
Rest in peace, Joe Kubert.