MarsCon History

The History of MarsCon

By James “Butch” Allen

 

The facts concerning MarsCon’s history are often confused by too many years and way too many Martian Cherries.  So let’s try to set the facts straight. How did MarsCon begin?

MarsCon started in the brain of two young college students. John Desmarias and Chuck Turnitsa. John and Chuck, like many at their age were simply looking for a good party to have at Sci-Con and other conventions. So they stole from a time honored tradition of World-Con Bid Parties and began their own bid for a World-Con. MARS IN 2095! They created buttons, flyers and even a Newsletter. Their parties were always successful, fueled by plenty of alcohol, highlighted by Martian Cherries (cherries soaked in 151 Rum or some other potent alcohol for about 3 months).

John and Chuck were members of HaRoSFa (The Hampton Roads Science Fiction Association). HaRoSFa was the force behind Sci-Con and was formed in 1977. Sci-Con was a convention held in the Virginia Beach area for twenty years. When HaRoSFa first contemplated running a con, they felt they would benefit from first running a small one day con. It was called Hark-Con and held at the NASA Langley Activities Center. In 1979, HaRoSFa began Sci-Con. 

Fast forward to 1989:

John and Chuck worked on Sci-Con but always felt that the staff never had a chance to enjoy themselves, so they decided to run a Relax-a-Con so the staff of Sci-Con would have a chance to party. With HaRoSFa backing them, they ran Hark-Con II February 3-6th 1989 at the Ramada Inn in Virginia Beach. Sci-Con was always held in early November, so Hark-Con II was pulled together in just three months’ time and mainly because of the swim-up Bar in the pool, it was a huge success. Here is a Video of the Event! Afterwards, they felt that with a whole year to plan they could run a full-size con. They decided to name it MarsCon after their World-Con bid parties.

 

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1990: The Birth and almost Death of MarsCon!

1990 Program Book

MarsCon 90 was held February 16-18th, 1990 in Hampton Virginia. But John and Chuck didn’t realize what they were getting into. They moved the con to Hampton (they both lived nearby), gathered help from fans and advertised their con. What they failed to see coming was a hotel that was in it for the money. Everything that went wrong was blamed on them. The Groupies from the Rock Concert at the Hampton Coliseum became intermixed with the con attendees and all their misdeeds were blamed on the con. Adding to that, the attendance was way too small – there were more free workers that attendees and not enough money was spent in the hotel. Anything and everything that could go wrong did. Chuck ran up a Credit Card bill that took years for him to pay off. MarsCon was dead. Or at least it appeared that way!

For the Complete Program Book click Here!

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The Knarley Knews MarsCon 90 Con Report

 

MarsCon90 – Cherries and Atomic Fireballs
Henry L. Welch (aka Knarley)
 
MarsCon90 has just been accomplished in Hampton, VIrginia. It is Sunday the 18th of February at just past seven in the evening. For those that are unfamiliar with MarsCon90 they may know of its previous incarnation as Hark Con II. Then again, they may not know of it at all. It is, simply put a Relaxacon. A group of about one hundred mostly weird and all crazy individuals met at a hotel that was crazy enough to book a Baptist Bible Study luncheon next to the Con Suite. Now as if this was not enough on the Saturday night of the Con the Hampton Coliseun Hosted WhiteSnake. (The Con hotel is so close to the coliseun that you can snell the popcorn from the concessionaires cooking.) So, you can now imagine a group of about twenty Con goers trying to find a place to eat when 5,000 WhiteSnake groupies and their dates descend on Hampton. Well, after several hours a fine meal was procured. Things were looking up , the hotel’s rent-a-cop was relaxing and enjoying our hospitality and we thought the rest of the weekend was going to go SO smoothly. That’s what you get for thinking. . . When the WhiteSnake (and Kix so I’m told) concert was over and the two bands were whisked away to our hotel we were bombarded with groupies that were generally described as intoxicated, cigarette smoking, greasy, (or alternatively shaved head) obnoxious twits. Soon hotel security was coming to us for help in keeping our people out of the hands of the Hampton Police Vice Squads. Among the reputed antisocial behavior reported to many observers involved the intentional insertion of fully clothed people into the pool andge neral crashing of the Con Suite and dance with cash bar. It was interesting that for the first time in the history of fandom the con was not blamed by the hotel and no fines were threatened. (Maybe that is because the hotel had already taken the Con chair over the back of a chair and made him submit to a full body search with a large foreign object. . . Said search had uncovered a $1000 payment was due to the hotel after the con (fine print is a +++++) was over if 80 room days were not used.)
 
All things considered though the Con was a great success. Knarley, Intha, SOD and several friends got thoroughly pissed on Friday night and Saturday morning (Though Letha did complain of queasiness on Saturday afternoon) . A live action role playing game was available for those that wished, and it worked out well in that most of the teenage twits were eradicated in the final encounter. The friends, the Martian Cherries, the atomic fireballs and a bodacious game of cosmic encounter (oh my god I’m beginning to speak like those WhiteSnake Freaks . . . ) were enough to make the weekend a thorough success, even if the only way we could get a winner in CE was for two players to agree to a mutual exchange of bases and share the win. I still say that is like farting in a closed car. . . it feels good for a minute, but you don’t know if you can live with yourself later. The con suite food was typical WWII vintage popcorn and corn chips, at least the drinks were good. Well, if all goes as planned, we’ll all be sober by Balticon (and will have found a Cosmic Encounter Gane of our own – Send info to Knarley) and can do it all again. Sher replied – Thanks for the mammaries . ,

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1991: The year off.

The con was dead, so there was no con in 1991. Chuck and John went back to school and work. But the idea of the con still lingered. Word got around that I (James “Butch” Allen) wanted to revive it, so Chuck and John wanted to make sure they still had their hands in the mix, to insure it would not become something different. They gathered their friends, who pooled their money together and decided to move the con back to the beach to the swim-up pool. Since I was well liked by both, they decided to invite me to help out. 

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1992: MarsCon Returns

So in 1992 MarsCon returned to the Beach and was once again a success, although it only featured the Con Suite, a small Dealer, Gaming Room and a Video Room. It showed that a gathering of like-minded individuals simply wanted an event to gather at and MarsCon filled that void.

But the Con took place, MarsCon reached another crisis point. Everyone that had banded together to revive it decided to pull out their seed money and quit the staff. There were only three people still interested enough to keep their money in the MarsCon checking account and keep MarsCon alive. They were Kim Pollard, Robert McMath and me (Butch Allen). Kim didn’t want to work on the con, but wanted it to continue, so the Con was left in the hands of Robert and me.

 

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1993: The last year at the Beach

We decided to continue holding the con at the beach and it was once again a minor success. I had been involved with Sci-Con, was Vice Chairman for Sci-Con 7 & 9 and had been Chairman for one of the more successful Sci-Con’s. Prior to that I been one of the main forces at upgrading the Sci-Con con suite. So I had the experience to pull the Con together with limited resources.

One of the events held that year was a Jimmy Buffett party put on by Bev and I in our hotel room, where I cooked Cheeseburgers on my Foreman grill. Although we didn’t have a large attendance to it, it was fun for those that did.

But the telling moment of that Con happened on the Sunday afternoon as Robert and I packed my truck to begin the long drive to the Peninsula through the Hampton Roads Bridge Tunnel. It was deathly cold and traces of Snow were dropping from the clouds. Robert and I were both miserable.

I looked at Robert and stated, “I think we need to look at moving it closer to home on the Peninsula!” He smiled and agreed with me. So the hunt to move began the next week!

Next” The Early Williamsburg years!

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