Six to read

which holds a nearmonopoly on comic book circulation, announced on March 23 that it would stop distributing new comic releases. Free Comic Book Day was postponed. And, at the worst possible time, Goliath publisher DC Comics in June changed distributors; a chaotic move that would have panicked retailers even in a stable year.

Field burned through reserves, detoured employees to work on a warehouse project and tried to wait out the turmoil. The big payoff was supposed to come Aug. 26. The store was open again, and the first edition of longawaited Batman: Three Jokers was set to debut. And then, on the day of the biggestdollar comic book release of the year, Field tested positive for the coronavirus. Boxes of the comic books sat on the other side of a door, with no way to get them to loyal customers.

“Sure enough, I heard we had 20 people waiting to get into the store, seeing the sign on the door that I had COVID and we had to close,” Field says. “But that didn’t stop the bills from coming. I still had to pay for all that merchandise. … And not everyone was patient to wait until we reopened.”

Field said the darkest moment was his initial diagnosis. At 64 years old, he was a strong candidate for a trip to the hospital, permanent health issues or worse. He thought about all that on the first day. But it never reached that point. After two weeks of fever and fatigue but no respiratory issues, Field tested negative.

“If we’re doing a movie about this, the day that I came back was also a Wednesday,” Field says of the store’s Sept. 9 reopening, on Orange Skies Day. “I parked my car in the lot. As I walk up I’m seeing that there are 15 to 18 people waiting in line, all with their masks on and all distanced. ... And as I approached the store they started applauding. I was incredibly moved by that.”

Field says instead of that 10% bump in business, his store was effectively closed for 13 weeks this year. It’s his most challenging year since his first in business. There are also longterm worries. Store events featuring artists and other comic celebrities are out. And who knows about the future of comics distribution, commercial real estate costs and the length of the pandemic. After spending years fending off premature reports of the death of the retail comic book industry, the threat to business is now very real. ( Legendary comics retailer Lee’s Comics shut its Mountain View storefront in March, focusing now on online sales.)

But Field thinks about that line of customers who find value in the home he’s built for comic book fans. There are fewer transactions than before COVID19 upended the business, but those who do show up are spending more.

“I really hope I can go out on my terms here, rather than being forced out by something that I have no control over,” Field says. “And I’m really looking forward to that not happening anytime soon.”

Joe Field suggests six comic books for complicated times at www. sfchronicle. com/ culture

When the Tubbs Fire sparked outside Calistoga in 2017, Anders Carlson was 2,700 miles away. He was studying psychology at Syracuse University in New York as the fire forced his family in Calistoga to flee, eventually burning the majority of their property, though their home survived.

“I felt really helpless being out on the East Coast,” says Carlson, 24, three years later. “It was sort of this epiphany moment. If this is a recurring thing, the fire service was something I wanted to be a part of.”

So, right after graduation, Carlson moved back to the Bay Area, where he got an associate’s degree in fire technology from Santa Rosa Junior College. He finished firefighter academy at the end of June, and in early July he started with Cal Fire — a seasonal firefighter working his first year at Station 68 in Winters. Then California ignited. Just weeks after signing on came his first big campaign fire, the SCU Lightning Complex, followed by the LNU Lightning Complex and the August Complex, the largest blaze in state history, which scorched more than 1 million acres. With fire season still far from over, 2020 has shattered previous records for acreage burned.

Before starting the job, Carlson tried to prepare himself and his loved ones for the reality of the work and what a particularly bad year might have in store. “I was very upfront with my family: Plan on me not being here at all.”

Carlson has spent his rookie year on a hand crew, traveling to steep, rocky areas bulldozers can’t reach and cutting firebreaks with hand tools and chain saws, either directly on the edge of the conflagration or where it is heading. The firefighters monitor humidity, wind speed and fire behavior to stay ahead of the flames and out of harm’s way. The work is intense, adrenalinestoking and physically grueling, with the specter of risk always present.

“We had a day where we cut line for 14 hours straight,” he says of one particularly tough assignment on the LNU Lightning Complex. “We got flown in by the National Guard on their Black Hawks and cut our way out of the canyon.” Over 14 hours, the crew