Robert E. Howard shot himself.
Today my mother is 80 years of age. 77 years ago, on June 11th 1936 Robert E. Howard put a bullet through his own head on hearing of the death of his mother (or near enough, hearing that she was not going to awake from a coma).
He was 30 years old. Thirty. That seems very young. Of course plenty of people have died young and left their mark. Lovecraft himself only reached 47. I always wonder what they would have gone on to create. But never mind that; Howard and Lovecraft have left a legacy. They created work that has influenced and enriched the lives of several generations, and I’m sure that will continue for many years to come. One day they’ll be forgotten, but we’ll be pushing up daisies before that I’m sure. In a way, they will outlive us. And I’m quite happy with that.
So thanks Robert E. Howard.
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