World’s Greatest Toys!

Heroes World. Venerable purveyor of Super Hero goodies throughout the 1970s. Proud producer of comic book-style kid catalogs. With humorous copywriting like “send us your hard-earned sheckles” (sic), publisher Ivan Snyder and company were responsible for countless afternoons spent drooling over every conceivable Super Hero goodie imaginable. The catalogs were never condescending, treating each kid as a viable customer, despite the fact that most of us would require parental assistance to place an order.

I still have the crumpled copy of my favorite issue: September 1976. My oldest brother Matt bought it in December 1976, at The Eye of Agamoto, a kooky, psychedelic comic book store in Ann Arbor, MI. That place used to scare me when I was a child. Perhaps I was intimidated by the continual presence of stoned high schoolers with dingy jean jackets covered in Van Halen and Aerosmith patches. But Matt, being several years older, was undaunted and dutifully let me tag along with him in order to give the old lady some breathing room.

I cannot underscore the power that catalog held over me. It was absolute magic. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, I never asked my parents to buy me something from Heroes World.

…At least not during the mail order company’s heyday.

Flash forward exactly ten years. By the end of 1986, I was rediscovering Mego and was simply voracious to find them. I remember buying a boxed Tarzan and boxed Catwoman from a nice “doll lady” in Michigan (ah, sweet Lee… I may have to post that story in a future blog). I recall buying a MIB 12 inch Magnetic Robin from a toy show in Cincinatti, OH.

But these were the days before eBay — heck, before nationally distributed collectibles magazines! Finding a Mego was a romp in the proverbial haystack.

Even at that point, that ratty old Heroes World catalog was my beacon. It was the gloriously illustrated proof that a Mego Lizard existed! And Iron Man! I’d never seen either figure as a kid, and I was determined to find them.

On a lark, I decided to dial the phone number printed in the catalog, fully expecting a pre-recorded “The number you have dialed…” disappointment.

“Heroes World,” the woman’s voice announced.

Stunned, I collected myself and mumbled something along the lines of, “Ummm… HI! Um… I’m calling from Michigan… Um. How’s it going? Do you have any Megos left?”

“The Super-Heroes?” she asked. With my confirmation, she said something that still gives me goosebumps:

“Actually, I have one left. It’s a Hulk.”

Completely blown away, I furiously took notes on what I needed to do to get that puppy into my desperate little grubbies.

“OK, then,” she concluded. “When I get your check, I’ll mail it out.”

I was 16 years old when I placed that call. I think I had a savings account (based on the paper route my older brothers and I shared, from before I can remember). But not a checking account. Off to mom I went, asking her to write a check. She naturally obliged (ain’t moms great? They just never judge you!).

Several months passed and I had completely forgotten about this major coup. I was back in the game of listening to Sigue Sigue Sputnik and trying to figure out how to ask Christie Miller out on a date (”Should I take her to the deli on State street, or should I ask her to the movies at Briarwood?!”).

I turned 17 on April 15, 1987. I don’t remember that birthday at all. But a couple of weeks later, I got this letter in the mail:

The letter was from the woman to whom I’d spoken a few months earlier. It reads,

4-21-87

Dear Ben,

I found this note today under a pile of correspondence.

I remember the phone call.

I would have taken the Hulk + put it away until the check came in. Well I don’t have the figure. I’m assuming that I’ve already sent the figure to you. If I’m wrong, please let me know + I’ll correct this for you. I’m waiting to hear. I’m very sorry for this extreme delay.

Sincerely,

Gail Janz

The letter is self-explanatory, so the only thing I’ll add is that I never received the figure.
I’ll also say that I am actually grateful that she didn’t send me that Hulk figure.

This letter is priceless to me. An instant time capsule to my salad days. I have since collected Mego Hulk figures in a variety of packaging variants. But this letter is a wonderful reminder of the time I almost got the last Mego at Heroes World!

Benjamin
p.s. I love reading your comments, so please take a moment to share your recollections about Heroes World, or just drop a general comment about the Blog.

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