Thanks all who contributed to Oregon History Comics! We are overcome with your generosity. A heartfelt thanks go out to everyone who made this project a reality.

It's still not too late to contribute to the project, and there will undoubtedly be unforeseen costs. There's still five days left to go, so tell your friends.

In the coming days, we'll be releasing more details about the comics and getting ready to send out packages.

Once again, thanks to all for making this project come to fruition! We appreciate your support!

Love,
The Dill Pickles

Only ten days left to meet our goal, friends!

We're 82 percent of the way there and I'm hopeful we'll make it, but NOW would be the time to send the Kickstart link to friends you think will support the project. Thanks for being a part of making these comics happen!

While history comic #1, about Lone Fir Cemetery, is already in local Portland stores, we're getting rolling on history comic #2. This second issue will tell the story of the X-Ray Cafe, an early nineties all ages music venue and hang out spot that had a major influence Portland's current music scene and alternative culture.

Yesterday I had the pleasure of interviewing X-Ray Cafe owner (and current owner of VooDoo Donuts) Tres Shannon. With his dog Oprah Winfrey at his feet, Tres talked about how the kids who came to the X-Ray were so damn weird that they scared the drug dealers off the cafe's West Burnside block, he recalled the days when Hole, Green Day and Bikini Kill played the club and the times when people come up to him today on the streets to talk about how the X-Ray changed their lives. Tres is quite a character—perfect material for the second comic!

Big thanks to everyone who has donated to our project! Your generosity is overwhelming and it's excellent to see so many people excited about history, comics and history comics.

The first comic in the series, Lone Fir Cemetery, went to press Wednesday night, just in time for us to staple and fold 200 copies for Portland's Stumptown Comics Fest. We're working with Portland printer Eberhardt Press, a tiny, high-quality print shop run by Charles Eberhardt out of two side-by-side garage spaces in SE Portland.

As Charles rolls up the metal door to his shop, it's quickly apparent that there's barely room for people to squeeze in between the thigh-high stacks of paper, bottles in ink, boxes of old books and, of course, the large metal press itself. Charles handles the machine like a magician, twisting knobs and turning small screws with a wrench to solve ink blots and mysterious sounds. He fed sheaves of 70-pound paper into the press all night and, by morning, served up a crisp pile of fresh comics.