Each day of this past weekend was split between the Baltimore Book Festival and Baltimore Comic-Con, and while that first event felt forward-thinking, the second was all about the past. Not only did I wander a dealers room in which I recognized every comic published or piece of original art created before 1980 or so, I also managed to catch up with seven people I’d worked beside during my time as a professional in the field.

And some I hadn’t seen in more than thirty years!

My nostalgia ride began with artist Ramona Fradon, whose work I’d loved as a child on titles such as Metamorpho and Aquaman.

Here we are posing with a copy of House of Mystery #273 opened to a story of mine which she drew in 1979! Not only was it a thrill to work with one of my idols, I couldn’t and still can’t imagine any artist more perfectly suited for that particular story.

After that, I bumped into former Marvel Editor-in-Chief Marv Wolfman—who was my boss exactly forty years ago.

And if you’d like to see what changes those years have wrought, you can check out a photo of us from those days when dinosaurs walked the Earth here.

One table over from Marv in the exhibitors hall was Mike Zeck, who provided the art for what may be most-reprinted story of mine. It was even republished in Marvel’s recent Free Comic Book Day offering!

I got Mike to pose with that story, a Thanos solo tale, which first appeared back in (gulp!) 1977 in Logan’s Run #6.

Then I ran into another old Marvel Comics pal—Tom Orzechowski, one of the greatest letterers ever.

Tom also knows—as I told you back in 2010—how to play along with a gag.

The next old friend I encountered I’d first met even earlier than when I started working as a comics professional—Bob Budiansky, with whom I attended SUNY Buffalo, and who then followed me into the field.

Bob’s first art job in comics was a Falcon solo story I wrote which was published in Captain America #220 in 1978, and he was quite pleased I didn’t have a copy on hand for us to pose with. I guess that though you may never forget your first assignment, sometimes you wish others did.

On Sunday, I wandered by Walt Simonson’s table to find no Walt but plenty of fans hoping for autographs and sketches. So I walked off, figuring I wouldn’t get a chance to catch up up him.

But then, there he was, coming toward the throng, so I stole a few minutes with him and tried to catch up on three decades. Not an easy feat.

My final nostalgic Baltimore Comic-Con encounter was artist and writer Jim Starlin, who once made up my face like one of his characters for a memorable con panel in the ’70s.

That’s right—this face paint was applied by the creator of Thanos.

And with that, I stepped back into my time machine and returned to the 21st Century, where I shall remain until I am borne back ceaselessly into the past by yet another comic book convention.