by George Khoury

On the second of July in 1996, Mike Parobeck died from complications with diabetes in Key West, Florida. Mere days later at San Diego’s Comic-Con, the news of his death would be met by his colleagues and admirers with disbelief and utter sadness. Even today it still difficult to accept that he was taken from us just shy of his thirty-first birthday, just as he was beginning to elevate himself into one of the best draftsman in the field that he loved so dearly. The early nineties was a time when the over-rendered Image Comics art-style dominated the entire industry; Mike’s art was a breath of fresh air with his art seemingly indicating that less is more. With only a stroke of his pencil, he was able to say more than most, for his technique was as impeccable as his storytelling. His small body of work has left an indelible impression on all who have seen it. They are pages and images filled with this joyous energy and an exuberance of life that seemed to be lacking from the artist’s very own introverted soul.

Born in July of 1965, Michael J. Parobeck grew up in Ohio and loved the comics of John Byrne --whom he referred to as being “the reason that I got into this field at all.” He enrolled at the now-defunct Central Academy of Art in Commercial Arts in Cincinnati to work in the advertising field and get away from Ohio. Upon graduation, he moved out to Chicago to continue his art studies and quickly landed work at various ad agencies, including the prestigious Leo Burnett Worldwide and BBD&O, where he worked as an art director. He quickly acquired distaste for the advertising work, feeling that it was mostly deceitful and misleading; he wanted out. This was the point where Mike started working on his artwork and hoping to break into the comics industry.

Around the mid-eighties Chicago was fast becoming a hotbed in the comics community and Mike naturally gravitated towards that crowd; many of these people quickly became friends and colleagues of the enthused young artist. Emerging comic book talent like Len Strazewski, Paul Fricke, Scott Beaderstadt, and Brian Augustyn, all befriended him and encouraged him to illustrate a short sequence, written by Len and edited by Brian, in a 1987 charity book called Quest For Dreams Lost, a benefit for The Literacy Volunteers of Chicago. The opportunity to become a comic book artist was one that Mike was born for and one that he would seize. Brian said, “In his earliest work, Mike was already showing all the strengths that would establish him as a terrific comic artist: clear, clean layouts, great senses of design and drama, and accessible, attractive characters. I could see his potential immediately--his talent was so brilliantly evident, I'd have to have been blind to miss it, frankly.”

While Mike made his portfolio stronger, Augustyn was hired for an editorial position in 1987 at DC Comics by Mike Gold in New York.  Soon after, Brian presented Mike’s work to the attention of fellow editor Mark Waid -- always keen on using emerging talent for his Secret Origins series -- and he was quickly impressed with the “spot-on” storytelling. Mike made his debut in Secret Origins #37, illustrating a short story featuring Doctor Light, the first of several stories he did for the title. Being a constant professional, you could see his progress with each passing story he was getting better and better. Rather quickly, he landed on a new series called El Diablo with writer Gerald Jones and inkers John Nyberg and Paul Fricke. The “El Diablo” character was Rafael Sandoval, a Latino city councilman, who with his masked personae or any super powers and weaponry fought to protect his constituent from crime and injustice.

Despite the nobility of the more realistic storylines and the animated artwork, the title never really caught on with readers nor did DC’s marketing department ever really promote the series, and that ultimately led to its cancellation with its sixteenth issue. “Mike was nervous,” recalls Gerard about the artist’s reaction to El Diablo’s end. “Every new creator is, of course, but Mike seemed particularly plagued by anxieties about failure. Part of the problem was that the word was going around DC that his art was ‘too cartoony.’ I thought it was a grotesquely unfair criticism, and I think it had as much to do with office politics and the opposition of some editors to Brian Augustyn's approach as it had to do with Mike's art.  But word of that reached Mike, and he came to feel that he always had too much to prove. When El Diablo was canceled he got angry at the readers and at DC, but mostly I think he blamed himself. Brian and I told him that it did pretty well for what it was, but his confidence was rocked. His anxiety seemed higher from then on.”

“Inside the DC offices the response was not as positive,” Augustyn, his editor, remembers. “Mike, being ahead of his time, puzzled many of the powers that be, and many of them thought Mike was a counterintuitive choice in the days of heroes with giant thighs, tiny feet and heavy cross-hatching. On the other hand, I was never told to not use Mike, I was never told to make him draw more like "fill-in-the-blank." There was often shaking of the head and clucking but they mostly left us alone. It needs to be said that on most of Mike's projects with me, he was the right guy and got appropriate support from on high. Then Editor-In-Chief, Dick Giordano liked Mike's stuff on El Diablo a lot. Group Editor, Mike Gold and Giordano thought he was perfect for The Fly.”

Parobeck quickly rebounded when he was selected to be the penciler on a revamped The Fly for DC’s new Impact imprint. The Fly, a vintage Archie Comics character created by Joe Simon and Jack Kirby, licensed by DC for Impact in the hopes of attracting new readers with accessible stories that had none of the “grim and gritty” that were commonplace in 1991. Again, Mike’s artwork was nicely matched with Paul Fricke’s inks; together they evoked the kind of wonderful sense that the editors wanted. The writer of the series was his good friend Len Strazewski, a fellow Chicagoan; the two would regularly meet at a convenient eatery to discuss their latest stories.

“It was always great because he would spread pages out on the table, and we’d have lunch, and put the pages out and I always had the same experience. I would look at the pages and go, ‘Wow! Mike, this is very good! Tremendous! Where did you get this?’ And, he said, ‘Well, in your script.’ And I realized that I would write something like the Fly buzzes around the office building, and Mike would just, sort of, creatively interpret this stuff in such a lively and imaginative infused way that it was like, ‘yeah. I did say that, Mike.’ But there was no way that I could have visually conceived what he just did. We didn’t plot so much together – I mean, I wrote full script – but his ability to take a script and to just infuse it with his own style and imagination was tremendous.”

Initially the sales of the Impact books were met with success, but internal company conflict and the declining sales in the months ahead would lead to the end of the entire project. Again, Mike didn’t handle the news well. “Mike took everything extremely personally. And in many ways that was his… I want to say downfall, but in many ways that’s what killed him in the long run. It’s that Mike was extremely sensitive about his work and when things did not go well, for whatever reason, he took it on himself. The idea of canceling a title that he had as much fun on as The Fly… It was a blow to Mike, absolutely.”

Prior to The Fly, Mike had penciled two issues (#3 and #5) of a 1991 Justice Society of America mini-series; the success of that brought him back to launch an on-going JSA series in 1992 that would be written by Len and inks by Mike Machlan. While his style continued to evolve, the Justice Society characters benefitted from that royally. He used his Berol 4H pencils to make that Golden Age group larger than life. He gave them these bigger proportions that evoked a feel to Dick Sprang work, a style that he evoked in his 1992 Elongated Man mini-series. Parobeck illustrated the team in a way that made the heroes look like they could finally hold their own again their young contemporaries. No longer where they just “the senior citizens “ of DC,  but finally characters who could hold their own with their contemporaries and their superiors when it came to experience.

The book seemed to be well-received yet according to Len that wasn’t the case. “Remind Mike Carlin of that. He was the one who pretty much single handily nixed the series. And his argument was that we shouldn’t be doing stories about senior citizen heroes. I discussed this with Mike many times over the years since then. And I think he was wrong, sales were always good on that book. I think there’s been some slander circulated that the books didn’t sell – that’s absolutely untrue. Those books earned royalties for every issue. There were ten issues, every issue earned royalties.”

When The Batman: The Animated Series premiered on Fox Kids Network in September of 1992, the most natural thing would be a comic book tie-in. DC debuted The Batman Adventures comic alongside the television show with a cover date of October of 1992. Ty Templeton and Brad Rader, the pencillers of the first six issues, successfully set the direction of the series.  “But then I needed a new penciller starting with issue 7,” Scott Peterson, the editor of Batman Adventures, mentions. “The series was originally designed to be a mini-series, but it was so good and so well received that Paul Levitz decided to turn it into an ongoing monthly as soon as the first issue came out. So I looked around for a new penciller and Mike had just finished his previous gig. I thought he'd be the perfect guy for the job so I offered him the slot and he accepted; he seemed particularly pleased the Rick Burchett was already the regular inker. It was going to be a week or so before Mike got the first script, but two days later I got a bunch of pages from him--he wanted to show me how he could adapt to the style. He already had the job. And yet he was still auditioning. That's the kinda guy Mike was.”

For most artists it would seem like a daunting task to draw in a style that wasn’t their own – someone forgot to tell Mike that. He enjoyed the challenge and enjoyed working on the book, so much so that he once said “as long as they’ll be putting out the book out, I’ll be there.” Right from his first cover on issue #5, he embraced the style that Bruce Timm had set for the show by infusing it with his own style which ironically was very similar in definition to what he had been doing for years. Batman Adventures paired the penciller with Rick Burchett, Mike’s favorite inker, and he brilliantly brought out all the mood and rich characterizations from the pencils that he was given.     

“At the time it was a pretty radical departure,” Rick explained. “A straight adventure book with a more iconic, designed feel to the art.  All I knew was that I was having a ball.  Everyone on the team was a joy to work with. I really don't know why the team clicked. That's something you can't manufacture.  Maybe it was because we understood the material and realized that this type of art could be used to tell practically any kind of story you wanted to tell.  We never intended the book to be just for little kids.  We wanted older readers along for the ride too.  We didn't talk down to anyone.”

The book was a breath of fresh air for comic book fans tired of the grimness and gimmicky fads that the main Batman books were going through. The real Batman that everyone loved was in those elegantly crafted Batman Adventures. The stylized stories conveyed the imagination and adventure that people were always expected from a Batman book. The sales for the title were always steady -- Mike wanted the book to succeed so much that he would draw two full-rendered sketches to the best letter writers for every issue (and this was something he did through the entire time he was on the book).  For three years, the stories that Kelley Puckett wrote for Mike and Rick to present were always perfect fun. In time, Mike’s interpretation of the animated Batman became the standard; it appeared on many licensed products throughout the entire nineties.

In terms of his work output, the perfectionist was a prolific workhorse that averaged seven to nine pages per week while working five to six days a week. Between his Batman and licensing assignments, he managed to do art for other DC Universe books like Robin, JLA Europe, and L.E.G.I.O.N. Despite not having the best networking skills, he managed to do an issue of Wonder Man and two covers for X-Men: The Early Years for Marvel Comics -- his only chance to do work with his favorite team. 

In regards of who he was taking influence from during this period in his career, the line art of Jaime Hernandez became an undeniable influence in all of his DC work. From Alex Toth’s work, he learned the importance of economizing and simplicity – never over-rendering his figures or designs. And thanks to his distinctive style, Parobeck himself became an influence to others. During his lifetime, he could count fellow artists like Kelley Jones, Brian Stelfreeze, Matt Wagner, Alex Ross and George Pratt, as fans of his work. Mike even took the time to help other young artists -- including an upcoming kid named David Mack --who he would correspond with letters of advice and encouragement.

Behind his self-deprecatory humor and anxiety, Mike was also dealing with severe childhood trauma. A result of that pain was that he buried himself deeper into his work and spent too much time alone bottling up his anger and regret. Everyone who knew him remembers him as being a tall and very handsome man, who was slightly athletic and slender, but painfully shy. Although he had girlfriends, most of those relationships were sadly doomed from the start. Then he started becoming thinner, becoming frail and lethargic, and it wasn’t until he had a severe episode that he went to see a doctor. Midway during his Batman run, Mike Parobeck was diagnosed as having Type 1 diabetes.

The news must have crushed the young artist. He told all his friends he had diabetes but didn’t always do anything about it, nor adhere to his doctor’s advice. Plenty of people cope with Type 1 by taking their insulin, checking their blood glucose levels and adjusting their lifestyle, but Mike had a hard time juggling his new medical disorder with his personality issues. He wasn’t suicidal; he was just naïve enough to think it would never catch up with him. As his appearance worsened, his friends would tell him to take care of himself, but he’d either change the subject or shrug his shoulders. Sadly, even his work began to suffer. It wasn’t right. He was having a hard time drawing even the simplest things.  Mike decided to move to Key West, thinking that perhaps the warmer climate and a change of scenery would help makes thing right.

“I knew he wasn't in great shape,” Scott Peterson recounts. “But I guess none of us realized he was quite as bad as he was. I've never been clear in my own head whether or not even Mike himself knew for sure. I spoke to Mike a few days before he died, so when he didn't answer the phone, I wasn't totally surprised or worried. I just did what I always did, which was to leave a message. He always got back within an hour or two, though, so when I came in the next morning and hadn't heard from him, I tried again and still got no answer. So I called a friend of his down in the Keys that I'd spoken with a few times before, and she and her boyfriend drove over to Mike's place and found him. I'd just gotten back from lunch with Shadow of the Bat artist Dave Taylor and his wife, who were visiting from England, when I got the call. I couldn't believe it. Mike's friend was trying to tell me what happened but she was crying and that pretty much let me know right there.”

Brian Augustyn remembers, “Unfortunately work and his personal demons seriously interfered (or were allowed to interfere) with Mike's necessary self-care. He didn't eat often enough, didn't stay on top of his sugar-levels and insulin injections, and didn't worry enough about what he was doing to himself. By that time he was living in Key West, Florida (Mike's dream-location) and far away from most of us who would have helped him be more dedicated. Who knows exactly what combination of carelessness, disease and personal trauma contributed to his too-early death. It was a tragedy with long, deep roots into Mike's shadowed past.”

Paul Fricke told me that Mike was once invited to a convention in Texas where he was the only headliner of the show. He spent that entire weekend giving everyone who came up to see him a fully rendered sketch for free. Most comic book artists would see this as a nightmare; not Mike, he loved every second of it. It was a blissful experience and a surprise to know that the artwork that he himself was so hard on had so many admirers. That weekend reenergized him. He loved his fans and in return gave them everything he had in his work. His final comic was Batman and Robin Adventures Annual #1, which came out several months after his death, in November of 1996.

From left to right: Len Strazewski, Mike Parobeck, and Paul Fricke - The Fly team appearing together at the start of the run.

Had he been alive today, he would have seen the outpouring of admiration from his fans. He would have seen how popular his books are among parents and younger readers who discover his Batman Adventures work anew everyday. How beloved his art is by all whom so thrown it a passing glance. Brian explains, “It turned out that Mike was right all along and a genius after all. I'm glad that worked out in the end--especially as early critics became fans. And Mike did pave the way for a return to a more ‘cartoony,’ more fun art styles--and Mike Weringo, Humberto Ramos, J. Scott Campbell, Ed McGuiness, Mike Oeming and about half the working artists today have proven a lighter style to be popular and viable. Not necessarily that Mike directly inspired any of them, but his instincts and talent were ahead of their time, alas.”

Mark Waid added, “There are very, very few comics creators whose actual body of work is surprisingly small in comparison to their influence on those who came after them.  Art Adams is one; Steranko is another.  That's a good group to be in.”

Here we are almost ten years after his death and still talking about his outstanding accomplishments. These facts alone are a testimony to his legacy, and Mike was that and so much more. Mike was a dear friend to many, the type of person who got more joy out of making others happier than him. Despite his sadness, his work brought a lot of smiles to readers all over the world. In his passing, Michael Parobeck and his art has become a friend to all.

His mentor, Brian, related this final anecdote. “Before we (my family and I) left Chicago for the East Coast and DC, a whole bunch of us went to Old Comiskey Park so that I could see a last White Sox game as a local fan--the White Sox were and are my all-time favorite baseball team. Mike came along--and in the eighth inning of a sparsely attended, who-cares September game against some forgotten team, Mike chased down a foul ball and walked it back and plunked it into my hand. It remains one of my most treasured possessions. That was Mike, he'd go way out of his way to make sure that you got what you wanted or needed.”

Special Thanks to Mike’s friends: Brian Augustyn, Scott Peterson, Len Strazewski, Rick Burchett, Gerard Jones, Paul Fricke, Mark Waid and Fabian Nicieza.

(George Khoury has written and edited the Eisner-Nominated Kimota!, G-Force: Animated (co-written with Jason Hofius), The Extraordinary Works of Alan Moore, True Brit: A Celebration of the Great Comic Book Artists of the UK and the upcoming Modern Masters VI: Arthur Adams. He’s also a regular contributor to Newsarama.)