WEG Memoirs: The Worst Con Ever

 “I always tried to turn every disaster into an opportunity.”

— John D. Rockefeller

The author, left, running a convention game.

Part of our duties as editors at West End Games included traveling to various game and fan conventions to promote the Star Wars Roleplaying Game and other lines. GenCon in Milwaukee (back in the 1990s) was the premiere convention and sometimes I accompanied the sales manager to the GAMA Trade Show; but we also attended a host of others cons, some as official company reps and others on our own (often generously hosted as guests). And then there was the most chaotic, insane convention in Chicago, with so many memorable and infamous moments it has fueled my West End story repertoire for three decades: the Big Bang science fiction convention, June 23-25, 1995, near Chicago’s O’Hare International Airport. The infamous “Big Bust.”

I don’t know how we got invitations to the con, but it boasted a star-studded guest list including Mark Hamill (Luke Skywalker), so someone figured we’d go. West End’s production manager Rich Hawran picked me, the Star Wars line editor at the time, and another Star Wars editor to attend (and share one very cramped hotel room). We knew very little about the convention, though we shipped displays and merchandise to sell at a booth, and prepared a few demo adventures to run. We flew out the Friday morning of the convention to set up for the afternoon opening.

The first indication we were in trouble was the taxi from the airport. We had the venue name and address...but the taxi driver had never heard of it. Maybe it was the driver. Maybe it was the venue. This was well before cell phones and non-military GPS. I think we drove around for 90 minutes before we arrived at what looked like a roller derby rink at some remote edge of the airport.

We set up the booth, then watched as a cavalcade of the promoted guests arrived, notably Star Trek’s Walter Koenig (Chekov) and members of the Babylon 5 cast, at the time the “new hotness” in sci-fi media: Michael O’Hare (Commander Sinclair), Mira Furlan (Delenn), Richard Biggs (Dr. Stephen Franklin), Peter Jurasik (Londo Mollari), and Bill Mumy (Lennier). (More would arrive later, one-day guests and late ones, and no doubt many I no longer remember who were there.)

Not the riverboat casino, but one from Babylon 5.

The big Friday afternoon VIP ticket-holder activity with the media guests — to which we were somehow invited — was an excursion on a riverboat casino on the some nearby river. The guests took limousines to the boat terminal but everyone else rode school buses hired for the event. Upon arriving at the boarding terminal, however, most attendees realized they couldn’t bring bags along on the riverboat casino; con organizers hadn’t clearly conveyed that restriction, leaving many attendees grumbling. Few had an interest in the gambling, they just wanted to hang out with the media guests. It had been a long and frustrating day (with more to come…), so we got a drink or two, blew through the roll of quarters our boss gave each of us, and spent the majority of our time hanging out. I recall having brief but friendly conversations with Walter Koenig and Mira Furlan. After a few hours we returned to the terminal, attendees retrieved their bags from lockers, and we boarded the school buses for the ride back to the remote roller derby rink convention venue. As we sat in the hot buses we watched the media guests slip into the limousines and drive off. But several attendees were watching and noticed one guest was missing. The convention bus chaperon ignored the first person who mentioned it, but then several people said they hadn’t seen Peter Jurasik get in a limo. The frustrated con organizer had the bus turn around. Sure enough, Peter Jurasik was standing there outside the terminal, wondering where everyone had gone; he’d slipped off to the restrooms and missed the limos. So we had an interesting ride back with him sitting up front. If he was annoyed he didn’t show it. He graciously spent the time talking with fans.

Friday evening convention events started back at the venue and we worked our booth. It was getting late and folks were starting to close up when Star Trek: The Next Generation’s John de Lancie (Q) arrived; supposedly his flight was late and, unsurprisingly, his taxi driver had no idea how to find the convention venue. Apparently he’d been scheduled for a meet-and-greet with fans earlier; they were already waiting for him in the bleachers where they hosted some events. Naturally de Lancie went over to talk with his fans regardless of the late arrival, which apparently irked the con organizers trying to clear out for the night. So they just shut off the lights on him! I have a distinct memory of seeing de Lancie quietly fuming as he sternly spoke with the senior con organizers who, I assume, made amends at some point.

So we’re clearing out of the hall for the night. But then we realized we had no means of getting to our hotel (goodness knows where it was in relation to the remote con venue, but it wasn’t within walking distance). We had no rental car and no taxi was driving out to the edge of the airport that late at night, so the folks at a neighboring booth, who had a van, offered to drive us to our hotel. We’d met them earlier and we’d see them at various conventions in the future: The Crossed Swords, Mike Sakuta and Nicole Harsch, who always sold swords at cons they attended besides giving amazing theatrical fighting demonstrations. They were, and always have been, exceedingly friendly and generous, and it started by giving us a lift to our hotel. It was a little uncomfortable, sitting in the back with our luggage and numerous swords (in boxes, but still swords) rattling around with each turn. But we got to our hotel for a decent night’s sleep. (I have no recollection how we got around the rest of the weekend.)

Saturday and Sunday the convention was in full swing. The heat was insane and the venue had no air conditioning. And then a few people started coughing. We noticed a nearby dealer, who sold nicely framed, authenticated autographed photos of celebrities, wiping a fine dust off his displayed frames. Later he started coughing. We learned the roller derby rink had recently sandblasted all the concrete surfaces as part of some renovation...recently enough that residual fine concrete dust was still in the air! I think at least one dealer had to leave they were coughing so much. As usual, complaints to the con organizers went ignored.

There were other problems throughout the convention the organizers navigated...and not very well, especially when talking with with attendees, dealers, and even the guests. I can’t remember them all there were so many. But by the end of the con people were calling it the “Big Bust” and wearing their badges upside down to indicate “con in distress.”

We made the most of it. Staffers ran a few demo adventures for the Star Wars Roleplaying Game. I don’t remember if we had a Q&A talk. We promoted and sold games. And each of us had some free time to explore the convention. The costumes were amazing, from Jawas and an Imperial pilot to Bossk and Boba Fett. I recall getting my photo with two women dressed as classic Battlestar Galactica Viper pilots (back before the reboot).

I had a little time off and wanted to get some Babylon 5 autographs; I’d been immersing myself in the show, thinking West End might make a bid to develop a roleplaying game based on it, and I’d enjoyed where it was going so far. So I went to the autograph area which was, unsurprisingly, a mess. The convention offered such a dizzying array of badge levels and ticketing that organizers couldn’t even keep track of it all (back before QR codes and other computer-assisted methods made tracking all this somewhat easier). Everyone was frustrated. Fans waited in a long line that snaked around the hall. Media guests waited at a long table wondering where the fans were. Organizers and volunteers got fed up dealing with everyone’s complaints. They gave up wrangling the line and the dizzying array of ticket levels, walked away, and just let folks go down the autograph table getting whatever signatures they wanted. I had a Babylon 5 cast photo, so all the show’s guests in attendance signed it.

On Sunday two more guests stopped by the booth. Bill Mumy (a legend in sci-fi media) came by with Jean Rabe and her husband Bruce; since he played the Minbari Lennier he graciously autographed my cast photo. And then Mark Hamill stopped by. (Apparently he was only there on Sunday.) He chummed around with us as we all took photos with him, then he signed my first edition Star Wars Roleplaying Game rulebook on the color insert featuring the three stages of Luke Skywalker’s journey.

We survived, somehow, with a few souvenirs and a lifetime of colorful stories. Thirty years later I still occasionally look at my photo album and recall that crazy convention. I admire my autographs, remembering those who’ve left us and how much their on-screen performances and their friendly interactions at cons enriched our lives. Despite attending a poorly managed convention, they made the best of it, not only showing up for the fans but giving them a memorable personal experience. They remind me to graciously navigate my own difficulties with an eye to making positive memories for those around me at conventions, game events, and more mundane, everyday interactions.

“We all have our time machines. Some take us back, they’re called memories. Some take us forward, they’re called dreams.”

— Jeremy Irons