Name: TUCKER, Arthur Wilson Aged: 91
Born: November 23, 1914 Where: Deer Creek, Illinois
Died: October 6, 2006 Where: St. Petersburg, Florida
Interred: Cremated. Ashes to Bloomington, IL
Married: Mary Jan Joestine When: 1937 (div 1942)
Married 2: Fern Delores Brooks When: 1952 (died June 7, 2006)
Awarded: Hugo Award for Best Fan Writer 1970; John W. Campbell Memorial Award in 1976 for the novel The Year of the Quiet Sun, NESFA's 1986 Skylark Award for Imaginative Fiction, and induction into the SF&F Hall of Fame in 2003.

Tucker was, first and foremost, a midwesterner...with the addition of a few genetic gifts. He was capable of being anything he wanted to be. His choices, in part, were affected by his location, growing up in an orphanage, visual problems, and the Depression...along with the advent of some-sort of pulp magazines that were publishing some-sort of futuristic 'literature.' For our purposes, he was two people: Wilson Tucker, the science fiction and mystery writer, and Bob Tucker, the science fiction fan. Like mental Siamese twins, they were joined, nodding to each other only as they passed. We don't know much about Arthur Tucker, maybe he was the father and family man.

Wilson Tucker's first genre publication was a short story in 1941 (65 years ago!) for Super Science Stories, "Interstellar Way-Station," at a time when the Germans were just barely passing the amateur rocket stage. He learned to write and rewrite from what he read...in the days of no agents, letter submissions, and penny a word (if that). His first successes were in the mystery novel field, beginning with 1946's Chinese Doll for Rinehart, which remained an early publisher of his novels. The first science fiction novel didn't appear until 1951's City in the Sea, also for Rinehart. The next 15 years were Tucker's most productive, not that it was all without flaws, but "classics" among them were 1952's The Long Loud Silence [rewritten in 1969], 1953's Time Masters and Wild Talent [aka Man From Tommorrow], 1955's Time Bomb [aka Tomorrow Plus X], 1958's The Lincoln Hunters, and 1970's The Year of the Quiet Sun. A short story collection was published in 1954, The Science-Fiction Subtreasury [aka Time: X].

Bob Tucker was one of the creators of science fiction fandom...a group of chameleon people intent upon joining others of like-minds who were also addicted to spacial objects, letter hacking, fanzine publishing, and forming various loosely-knit associations of same. Bob was sort of odd-man-out in the midwest while those who were doing the counting were in the major cities of the northeast...defining such fannish arts as feuding, communal fandom, and organizing the first (nearly political) science fiction conventions in Philadelphia and New York City. But Tucker persisted from a distance, perfecting a gad-fly role, and finally outlived about everybody. Across the decades, Bob published several "zines," the most famous of them was "Le Zombie," which ran occasionally from 1938 to the mid 1970s...with a reappearance as a webzine, making it the longest running fanzine. He created numerous fannish expressions and "tuckerisms," and was a fixture across the years at most National Cons and the annual MidWestCon in Cincinnati.

"Tucker...has become a legend in his own time, and it would be impossible to imagine the curious microcosm, science fiction fandom, as it might have evolved without his influence." Robert Bloch

At Tucker's 88th birthday party held in Bloomington, Illinois, I heard a fan ask Bob why he had stopped writing. Without hesitation, Tucker said, "Because I'm no longer driven." But he was still very much a social person, still seeking human contact and holding out hope of finding one more mind to help in some way. I didn't ask him why he was still doing this...for the answer would have been, "Because there's nothing else for me to do." I attended because I knew it would be the last time I would see him. At one point, we were interrupted by someone wanting him to go elsewhere, Tucker smiled at them politely and said, "No, I want to talk to George." I reminded him of the time, in 1961 I think it was, when he attended the MidWestCon, bringing with him three young men...Ed Gorman, Vic Ryan, and Roger Ebert. Tucker had the most pleased look on his face when he introduced them and turned them loose...sort of like 'Let's see you draw to three of these.'

The quote below speaks to this, obliquely...about another time long gone in sf fandom when a portion of its members considered themselves to be advanced human beings. Wilson Tucker, the author of Wild Talent, was suspected and accused of having same. Bob Tucker always denied it...Wilson had no comment. Only a few knew for sure, one way or the other, as anyone with any sense has to protect themselves, and their families, from believers and nut cases. Some say he answered the question in a tuckerism...scribbled on a piece of paper, and slipped across a table at Pittcon when the question came up again...reading "buoy teach."

Thumbnail from a larger photo by Carl Blakney, circa 1958.

PEN NAMES: Hoy Ping Pong, Sanford Vaid

BIBLIOGRAPHY: Mine here.

OBITUARY: Nice tributes at SFWA.

Send relevant email to George C. Willick