My oldest son graduated from high school last week. 

If you’ve followed my column in The Georgia Bulletin for the last 15 years, you’ve read about him a lot. Along with his younger brother, he’s appeared as an unnamed recurring character in this space for a long time. 

In some respects, he’s not that different from a comic book character. He’s not that different, therefore, from any of us. Months and years pass by unchronicled, and then in an occasional flash, you hear about a pivotal moment—a challenge met, an obstacle foiled, a goal accomplished—and the superhero you’ve always loved appears again to offer both insight and joy. Picking up a good new issue in a comic shop you’ve not visited for many months is a lot like witnessing the happiness of a minor milestone in the life of one of your children. 

Of all the American 20th century comic book heroes who continue to provide this happy catharsis, none strike me as relevant to the universal experience of adolescence as The Amazing Spider-Man of Marvel Comics. Created by Stan Lee, and first illustrated by Steve Ditko, Spider-Man became a true icon of popular culture when John Romita Sr. reluctantly agreed to begin illustrating him in 1966. 

When Peter Parker of Midtown High School in Forest Hills, Queens, New York City was bitten by a radioactive spider in 1962 and went on to learn—painfully—the enduring lesson that “With great power comes great responsibility,” writer Stan Lee brilliantly began a saga that presents the American teenager as what they really are. But it wasn’t until Romita Sr. took over the artwork for the comic that Spider-Man became an image of what teenagers yearn to be. 

Not entirely by coincidence, Romita Sr. began working at Marvel in 1965, the year Peter Parker graduates from high school in issue 28 of Amazing Spider-Man. When he took over the art for the book in 1966, he was charged with transforming Peter into a more fully realized adult. 

Peter Parker had a tough time in high school. As the class nerd and bookworm, he was routinely subjected to bullying, and even when he entered the workforce as a photographer for the Daily Bugle under the ruthless editorship of J. Jonah Jameson, he suffered constant harassment. In his guise as Spider-Man, the NYPD branded him public enemy number one. But Peter persevered. Even when nobody knew or understood the contributions Peter made to the greater good, he went about his vocation without acknowledgement, acclaim or reward. 

I’ve been an academic for most of my life. I’ve attended more than a hundred commencement exercises. I look on in awe at graduation ceremonies at which many graduates are literally weighed down with cords and trinkets for an astonishing number of honors. The character of Peter Parker—and therefore Spider-Man—continues to resonate with young people because they know that he deserves a hero’s recognition, and they lament that he almost never receives it. As the theme song for the great 60s Spider-Man comic put it, “Wealth and fame, he’s ignored.” 

We ought to give honor cords and medals for real life victories. My son walked across the stage with nearly 600 other students who endured in the sixth grade the anxiety and horror of the COVID pandemic. They look on now as wars rage in Europe and the Middle East. On the verge of the 250th anniversary of the United States of America, they have all witnessed political upheaval and social unrest greater than perhaps at any other time in modern American life. They graduate with a knowledge of mortality and a legitimate skepticism about ideals and values that will probably one day make them another Great Generation. 

When John Romita Sr. was illustrating Spider-Man, he wasn’t afraid to address the Baby Boomers’ own unique anxieties as they entered adulthood. Working with Stan Lee, he created unforgettable issues about the Vietnam War, the threat of narcotics, campus unrest and social justice. While he never explicitly identified himself as a Catholic while working on these stories, his empathy and conscience are so visible that to this day many readers remain confident that Peter Parker, and therefore Spider-Man, should probably be seen as Catholic.   

Connecting faith and action  

Clearly the contemporary Spider-Man films have often included Catholic allusions—St. Therese of Lisieux comes to mind—and the late Pope Francis was delighted to have a photo opportunity with “Spider-Man” in St. Peter’s Square, but it’s in the comics that the connection between faith and action is first apparent. 

Pope Francis met 19-year-old Francesco Pio Tarantino, who visits children in hospitals dressed as Spider-Man, after his general audience in St. Peter’s Square at the Vatican May 10, 2023. CNS photo/Vatican Media

Think about it. Every action that Peter Parker takes as Spider-Man—every spin of the web, every crawl, every punch, every evasion—are all encapsulated in that most thrilling of moments: the leap. When Peter makes his first tentative jumps from building to building across Manhattan, he’s not just exercising teenage abandon; he’s making a leap of faith. I think that Romita Sr. understood this metaphor, and I think it helps explain why his art is so evocative. 

Perhaps Romita Sr.’s greatest legacy as a Catholic artist is his mentorship to young and aspiring writers and artists at Marvel Comics. While at Marvel, Romita Sr. created the “Romita Raiders,” a group of young people whom he helped usher into the high-pressure world of bigtime deadline comics. One of his brightest proteges, Jim Fern, went on to also illustrate Spider-Man, and to this day Fern cites Romita Sr.’s mentorship as an influence on his own devout practice of Catholicism. In one of the greatest acknowledgements a parent can ever receive, Romita Sr.’s own son John Jr. followed his father’s legacy to become a brilliant Spider-Man artist himself. How could he not? In addition to his father’s example, his mother also worked at Marvel for many years; at the time of Romita Sr.’s death in 2023, their marriage had lasted for a beautiful 71 years. 

Yet it’s the visual iconography of Romita Sr.’s run on Amazing Spider-Man that endures as the greatest testament to his talent, his values, and his relevance to young people everywhere. 

One of the most important issues in Romita, Sr.’s tenure—and one of the most pivotal moments in the Spiderman saga—is the death of Gwen Stacy, Peter Parker’s first real love. The story arc covers several issues, but the climax occurs in issue 121 of Amazing Spider-Man in June of 1973. In issue 121, Gwen dies from a broken neck after a fall off the Brooklyn Bridge while Spiderman is fighting his arch nemesis the Green Goblin. Peter Parker blames himself for Gwen’s death, and though he avenges her by destroying the Green Goblin in issue 122, Peter has been yet again scarred by tragedy. His career begins after the death of his uncle; it matures fully with the loss of his first deep love. 

The artwork in these two issues is astonishing for the time. Romita Sr. collaborated with Gil Kane to pencil and ink both the panels and the stunning full-page illustrations. I should mention that the writer for this issue, Gerry Conway, was also a cradle Catholic. Conway died just over a month ago, on April 26. 

At the time of the Gwen Stacy issue, Romita Sr. had stepped down as the primary illustrator for Amazing Spider-Man, though he continued to work on important storylines, tributes, and anniversary issues into the 21st century. Notably in 1987, Romita Sr. did the cover artwork for the Amazing Spider-Man Annual 21 in which Peter Parker and Mary Jane Watson finally marry. 

Spider-Man has been a fixture in American, and global, popular culture for more than 60 years, and yet he remains forever young. Sacrificing his own wants and needs for the common good, Peter Parker epitomizes the idealism and frustration of youth and the little triumphs and anonymous tragedies that mark all our lives. As a comic book character, he is more than anything a visual ideal. More than any other artist, John Romita Sr. embodied Spider-Man with unique style and substance that have become iconic. 

Much like high school student Peter Parker secretly drew upon his own knowledge and talents to realize his ideal of Spider-Man, Romita Sr. also intuitively drew upon his quiet Catholic understanding of form and matter, mystery and grace, to bring Stan Lee’s brilliant character into vibrant and beautiful life. And just like life, you never know what will happen to him next.