Stripper's Guide

 (from Editor & Publisher, June 28 1924)

What's What in the Feature Field

"So long as a newspaper syndicate creates and develops new and worthwhile talent, just so long it is useful and helpful to the newspaper world. But its reason for being surely stops there."

This is the opinion of H.H. McClure, general manager of the Associated Newspapers, New York, who in a recent statement to clients takes up the discussion of syndicate methods by the American Society of Newspaper Editors as contained in Editor & Publisher. 

McClure in this statement expresses himself in accord with the A.S.N.E. findings that "the present day newspaper syndicates, while being of much service, are to be blamed for many evils."

"Everyone knows," he declares, "that the original idea and purpose of the newspaper syndicate was to furnish reading and picture material to newspapers in non-conflicting territory at a lower cost than such material would be for one paper alone, or even for a small group of papers. 

 "And everyone in the newspaper business knows that this is no longer done.

"Worthwhile features now cost the newspapers in such cities as New York, Chicago, Philadelphia, Boston, etc., more than they should cost the entire syndicate list. Proportionately the evil extends to every newspaper buying features," he maintains.

McClure blames the newspapers mainly for this condition for "permitting the syndicate Frankensteins to create their monsters."

"There is no doubt but that the feature business would be much improved if some of the 'oriental price-jackers' were eliminated, " he says.

"When a syndicate operates only on the plan of taking established talent away from another organization and making the publisher pay steadily increasing prices for this talent, then it becomes a menace. 

"There are now several syndicates which have not discovered or created a single feature which they are placing -- everyone has been 'bid' away from some one else, and the newspaper publishers have held the bag. I am not saying that a feature may not be better placed and handled by one organization than another, but I do claim that the so-called better organization ought to do some creative work, in order to acquire merit in the eyes of the publishers."

[To explain this sour grapes tirade you must understand that Associated Newspapers was not really a syndicate in the traditional sense -- it was a cooperative of various newspapers. Due to the structure of their business, Associated was very prone to losing creators to the 'real' syndicates. They had little say in how much their features' creators' were paid -- that was up to individual member papers. So when a feature gained any great popularity it was up to the individual newspaper to outbid a syndicate, which was rarely going to work out in the newspaper's favour. 

In 1930 Associated Newspapers' flawed business model finally spelled their doom as a co-op -- they were sold off to become an imprint of Bell Syndicate -- Allan]

Labels: News of Yore

 Mark Johnson sent me these gruesome little news stories years and years ago. They just bubbled up to the top of the stacks today. Enjoy .... ?

Cartoonist Held On Manslaughter Charge

May 25 1923: Ogdensburg Republican-Journal

Norwalk, Conn. May 23 -- Clifton Meek, a resident of the Silver Mine artists' colony and widely known cartoonist, is under arrest here on a charge of manslaughter his automobile having struck and killed Mrs. Josephine Barlow of this city late last night on the Danbury-Norwalk road. Meek said the woman walked in front of the car.

Indict "Bud" Fisher Butler

Sep 14 1929: Yonkers Herald

Carmel, NY, Sept. 13 -- James Bell, negro butler for Harry Bud Fisher, the cartoonist, was indicted for murder in the second degree here late this afternoon by the Putnam County Grand Jury. 

Bell was charged with shooting and killing Frank Candee, a white man, superintendant of the Fisher estate at Lake Mahopac, on July 13. A subpoena for Mr. Fisher to testify before the Grand Jury on the case was issued, but Sheriff Secord was unable to locate him. 

Bell will be arraigned before County Judge Joseph P. Shea here on Monday to plead to the indictment.

Cartoonist Suicide; Leaves Tragic Note

Apr 4 1932: Rochester Democrat and Chronicle

Cleveland, Oh., April 2 (AP): Leaving a tragic note to his estranged wife, Loron A. Taylor, 32, commercial artist and creator of the comic strip, "Mom 'n' Pop" shot himself to death in an obscure house today. Taylor had been separated from his wife since August. In his pockets was a letter addressed to her, written Monday. It read:

"Dearest Edna -- I will make an effort to see you tomorrow. However, if I fail you will be informed of what happened. Know that my parting thoughts were of you, that the loneliness I suffered after we parted had a great bearing on this climax. Inevitable, however, owing to financial obligations, etc. As the doughboys used to say, 'He went West.' And in my 32 years of varied experience I have learned that life isn't worth a damn. With all my love, Loron."

Cartoonist's Wife Commits Suicide

December 10 1929: Ogdensburg Republican-Journal

 Hastings on Hudson, NY, Dec. 10 (AP): Apparently despondent over the death of her daughter, Marjorie, 14, who died last August of sleeping sickness, Mrs. Frank Moser, 41, wife of a New York cartoonist, committed suicide late yesterday by gas asphyxiation in her Hollywood Dr. home here, according to police. 

 Creator of 'Skippy' Attempts Suicide

Dec 19 1948: Rochester Democrat-Chronicle

New York (UP) -- Percy Crosby, 57, cartoonist who created "Skippy," slashed his wrists and chest Friday in an apparent suicide attempt, police reported yesterday. His condition last night was reported as "fair" at Bellevue Psychiatric Hospital. Police said Crosby had entered Doctors' Hospital Thursday, where he was said to be "suffering from depression." After he was injured he was transferred by a private ambulance to Bellevue, police said. 

 

 

Labels: News of Yore

 

 

J.R. Williams burst from obscurity onto hundreds, maybe even thousands, of newspapers in 1922 with his daily Out Our Way panel, syndicated by the ubiquitous blanket service syndicate, NEA. It's hard to believe that the creator of a three year old feature could make headline news simply by signing his next contract, but such was the instant popularity of Out Our Way. Of course it didn't hurt that NEA supplied the promo piece with the rest of their service, but still, editors had to make the decision to actually run it, and quite a few did. 

This piece ran in the October 23 1925 edition of the Dubuque Times-Journal, but a digital search finds it running in lots of other venues, from New Jersey to Alabama, Louisiana to Washington state. 

Labels: News of Yore

In the 1940s Al Capp started making the rounds of the radio talk shows, and he also became a popular guest on early TV. Intrigued by the new technology, in 1952 Capp created two new programs for the young medium. One was a puppet show featuring his character Fearless Fosdick, and the other was a 15-minute weekly show featuring Capp himself, simply titled The Al Capp Show.

In the latter show Capp offered his views, which while not quite as incendiary as they would later become, were already well capable of ruffling feathers. One of his lighter episodes, though, consisted of him explaining how to use terms like shlemiel and schnook. Hopefully in the episode he gave credit where due for these Yiddishisms, but in the TV Guide edition of October 10-16 1952 they offered a summary of the program in which the less lexically knowledgeable would be left believing that Capp came up with these terms himself. Thanks to Mark Johnson, here's the cover and article:

The Al Capp Show was 15 minutes long and ran at 12:15 PM on Saturdays, at least at the New York station where it originated. The program lasted about six months, with the first episode airing on July 12 and the last on December 27 1952. As far as I know there is no surviving video of any of the shows. However, this review gives a pretty good idea of what you would have seen; sounds like fun:

 

At least a few episodes of the Fearless Fosdick puppet show have survived, and here's the first episode of the series. While the story moves along at a deadly slow pace, and the sparse gags are hit and miss, you can't help but be impressed by the puppetry work:

Labels: News of Yore

 ‘Kisses’ postcard approach piques editors’ interest

By Patricia Roberts (Editor & Publisher, April 17 1976)

It's not your everyday sales pitch.

A card arrives in the morning mail, no return address: “You're so sexy you drive me up a tree. Love. Avalanche.”

At four-day intervals, similar cards follow: “Let's monkey around! Love and kisses. Avalanche.”

“I'm getting ready for you. 'Cause I heard dirty old men need love too! Love. Avalanche.”

And, finally. “We could have wild times together! Missed you. Love. Avalanche (305) 558-.xxxx“

The cards went to newspaper editors all over the country this spring, and most of them were intrigued enough to ring the Miami, Florida number and demand “Who's Avalanche?”

By the time they found out, 27-year-old cartoonist Vivian Greene managed to talk them into taking a serious look at her cartoon strip “Kisses,” syndicated in about 90 newspapers in the U.S. and abroad.

Avalanche is the “Kisses” character most like the strip's creator. Deceptively innocent-looking in jeans, a halter top and mod platform shoes. Into health foods, yoga, horoscopes and woman's lib. Flirtatious. And with a philosophy that you can get anything you want if you're cute enough.

Vivian Greene has a reputation for getting what she wants, and right now it's to make her cartoon strip as successful as Charles Schulz's “Peanuts.” And, if possible, even more profitable.

As a University of Washington Journalism major, she decided to become a syndicated cartoonist—an unusual ambition, considering she couldn't draw.

She dreamed up a kind of elementary school soap opera—involving Avalanche, a dizzy secretary named Gabee, fat Rotunda whose diets always fail and Montgomery C. Roebuck, a sixth grade Phi Beta Kappa. Making rough sketches of the characters, she commissioned artists to do the drawing, and by the time she was 21, landed a contract with a New York syndicate.

But a few weeks before the strip was to be released, the syndicate went bankrupt. A series of part-time jobs proved disastrous, and Ms. Greene finally poured a cup of hot coffee on an insulting boss, was promptly fired, and decided that “If I was ever going to get anywhere
I had to do something on my own.”

Transferring the cartoon characters to a line of 48 greeting cards, she moved to Miami and founded Vivian Greene, Inc.

Within three years the company was doing a multi-million dollar volume of business and Ms. Greene was signing contracts to market Kisses toys, clothing, and gift items.

Her technique of bombarding editors with risque greeting cards signed “Avalanche,” (from her own “Juvenile Delinquent” line) may be unorthodox, but it gets both attention and results.

“But what counts is not the number of papers you sign up," Ms. Greene says.

“It's longevity. Dozens of comic strips don't last past the 13th week.”

 

 “Kisses” has run a year in three large markets—The Toronto Star, Miami Herald, and the Philadelphia Daily News. And, says Peter Morris of the Toronto Star Syndicate, response has been unusually favorable.

“We had an extremely heavy response to a recent readership survey.” Morris said. “There were 1200 replies, with three to one favorable. ‘Kisses' is reaching the youngsters, age five to teenage,
and above that age it's reaching women. Readers seem to feel a strong affinity with the characters.”

Newspaper comic strips tend to be male-oriented, Ms. Greene believes, “because the editors who choose them are middle-aged men.”

“There's very little on the comic pages for children.” she says. “'Kisses' is designed for children. They like the characters because they're really with it.”

The strip's contemporary situations—a child's parents getting divorced. sex education classes, black and white children placed together—have sparked controversy, including a couple of cancellations, she says. But most response has been positive.

“I really relate to children. I never had much of a childhood myself. I only had one parent, and I was just about the only white kid in my neighborhood,” she says.

A native of Seattle, she worked part-time jobs from age 12 to contribute to the family income, including writing articles for the Seattle Post-Intelligencer, a high school column for the Seattle Times, and a “youth news bureau." Her idols were Charles Schulz and Walt Disney. Her mother, a divorcee, earned only about
$4,000 a year as a department store saleswoman.

She never took an art course, still can't draw, but designs and writes her strips, employing four artists to draw them. “It's not a new concept,” she points out. “Walt Disney's work was drawn by staff artists.

“And why not be another Walt Disney?” she asks, giving a big smile, much like her cartoon characters. They're eyeless, she says, because “ 'Kisses' is about love and happiness. When you kiss
somebody you close your eyes and smile.”

“Kisses” characters never hit each other, because she doesn't like violence. Nor will their faces ever appear on packages of candy, soft drinks or sugary cereals, she says emphatically, because those things can harm children.

Success has brought little change to her life style, except that it's enabled her to make up somewhat for the childhood she missed. She bicycles to work, flies around the country to appear at autograph sessions, not infrequently turning up on roller skates with an “Avalanche” doll tucked under her arm.

Still single, she's not sure she'll ever marry because “there're so many neat men in the world, it's hard to choose just one. . . . Too bad marriage can't be syndicated.”

[Tomorrow ... more about Kisses]

Labels: News of Yore

Comic strip version of The Teenie Weenies from late in the first run of the feature

 

 Donahey Talks About His Teenie Weenies

By George A. Brandenburg (Editor & Publisher, June 15 1946)

Some old screws, which served as his boyhood soldiers, plus an inherent interest in what makes children “tick,” served as guiding lights in the creation of the ‘‘Teenie Weenies.” 32-year-old Sunday
color feature drawn by William Donahey, top-flight watercolor artist with the Chicago Tribune - New York News Syndicate.

As a kid in New Philadelphia, O., Bill Donahey was what he today terms a “lone wolf.” He played by himself a lot and among his favorites were an assortment of screws which he imagined were soldiers. One screw head had some red paint on it and Bill made him the general. A broken screw, which wouldn't stand on end, was called the dunce.

Later a Chinaman moved to town and opened a laundry. The Chinaman was an object of great curiosity among all the kids in New Philadelphia, including young Donahey, who, in turn, tied a piece of string on a screw for a queue and he dubbed this one “Mr. Chinaman.”

In later years, these same “characters‘’ and a group of others were to take form as the Teenie Weenies, then unbeknown to their creator.

Donahey was not a poor boy, in the sense that he was obliged to play with screws instead of toys. His father was a well-to-do cattle raiser and a respected politician.

Bill’s two older brothers became famous in their own right. The late A. V. Donahey, ten years older than Bill, was elected three times governor of Ohio and also served in the U.S. Senate. J. H. Donahey, eight years Bill's senior, has been editorial cartoonist on the Cleveland Plain Dealer for many years.

Bill‘s father taught him the value of money early in life. "My father never gave me money, but he would ‘loan’ me his lawn mower or snow shovel and after I had made good use of them, I was paid accordingly.” Mr. Donahey told Editor & Publisher.

Later, when Bill went to Cleveland School of Art, his father advanced him the money as a loan through a series of 4% notes. "This also kept me from spending money extravagantly,‘’ remarked Donahey, “for I knew I was obligated to pay it back to my father.“

Upon finishing art school and after some private tutoring, Donahey was hired as an illustrator on the Plain Dealer in the days when artists covered the big news events, theatrical openings. etc., instead of photographers. Always striving for perfection, he soon found that he had a lot to learn about illustrating and for the first 2 1/2 years he was on the Plain Dealer he worked 20 hours a day, spending all his spare time practicing and perfecting his artwork. “During those first 2 1/2 years on the paper I seldom slept more than four hours a night and I didn’t take a vacation until after I had been with the Plain Dealer three years.” he said. “It was fascinating work, but required terrific speed and good draftsmanship, all of which had to be accomplished under great pressure.”

Marries Mary Dickerson
About this time, Donahey became acquainted with Mary Dickerson, a talented reporter and feature writer, who had already won recognition on the old New York Journal and old New York World. She was then a reporter on the Plain Deaier.

She and Bill decided to get married. But Bill first went to his father and offered to pay back the money he had borrowed while going to school. When he presented the money, his father declined, tearing up the 4% notes he had with his son's signature.

In those days, a newspaper artist really earned his salt,’‘ remarked Donahey. “l had my regular daily assignments, plus a Sunday color page, and some special drawings for the editorial page, together with theatrical openings and a few other odd jobs.”

Donahey aspired to be either a magazine illustrator or a cartoonist. He noticed, however, that the Sunday color comic sections of those days didn't offer too much in the way of a wholesome appeal to children. Most of the comics were of the slapstick variety and played up the pranks of youngsters, rather than appealing to their better
nature.

Attracts Patterson's Attention
He pointed out this fact to the Plain Dealer managing editor, whose first reaction was: “0h, kids are just little savages anyway and they like this kind of comics.” Donahey kept “working” on his superior, however, and finally got him to consent to let Donahey draw a color page for the Sunday comics which would feature Mother Goose characters, “modernized” by special children’s verses, written by Donahey.

The beautiful color work, plus the kids’ verse in simple style, became immediately popular with Cleveland children. Donahey’s attractive color pages caught the eyes of Capt. Joseph Medill Patterson, late publisher of the New York News, then with the Chicago Tribune. As has been the case with so many of the Tribune-News comic features, Patterson encouraged Donahey to develop a new children’s page for the Sunday paper.

At this point, Donahey’s boyhood “playmates,” the screws, came back to his mind and the characters such as “the General,” the “Dunce” and “Mr. Chinaman” took form in the tiny folks whom he called the Teenie Weenies. Although the Donaheys have no children of their own. Bill had a deep fondness for kids, having watched his oldest brother’s family of 12 children grow up.

Began in May 1914 (actually June--Allan)
Donahey drew three pages, showing the Teenie Weenies busy in ttieir little way in the big world about them. Capt. Patterson was away when Donahey brought his drawings to the Tribune. He showed them to the Sunday editor, who took one look at them and said; “These stink, take ’em away.” Donahey waited for Patterson’s return and submitted them again. Patterson was so impressed that he ordered the page to run immediately in black and white in what was then called the Hint Section.

“But that section is already made up and we have advertising scheduled for that page,” protested the Sunday editor. “Put the ads somewhere else in the paper and get the Teenie Weenies in,” ordered Capt. Patterson. Soon after, in May, 1914, the Teenie Weenies became a regular feature in the Sunday paper and they have been there ever since, except for a short period a few years ago when Donahey tried to retire, but the demand for the feature was so great that he returned to his delightful job of keeping youngsters and oldsters amused.

The popularity of the Teenie Weenies was so great that Patterson urged Donahey to develop a daily strip as well, but Donahey declined, saying that once a week was enough. “This way I enjoy doing it and the kids like it, too; if I try to do a daily feature as well, I'll tire of it and so will the ktds," he explained.

A Painstaking Worker
He did retain the book publishing rights on the Teenie Weenies and Whittlesey House is publishing his fourth book soon. It takes him from three to six weeks to do each of the book illustrations, because he is methodical in proportioning his figures and backgrounds, and he is particularly painstaking about the color work.

He seldom draws more than one Teenie Weenie feature a week for the syndicate, explaining “you must have a feeling for what you are doing and I like to do things slowly and with considerable thought.” His color prints which are turned in for guides in the mechanical department are beautiful enough to be framed.

“I’ve never missed a deadline in 47 years of newspaper work,” remarked Donahey in a recent interview at his home in Chicago. There the quiet-spoken, diminutive Donahey, with a great shock of gray hair and his inevitable pipe, works during the fall and winter months in the second-floor front room which he uses for his art studio.

Likes the Outdoors
From May to October, the Donaheys hide away in their log cabin lodge at Grand Maraias in northern Michigan near Lake Superior. Donahey loves the outdoors as much as he does little children. He likes to fish, study Mother Nature at first hand, and still keeps up his syndicate schedule. In bygone years, Donahey and the late Gaar Williams, famed Hoosier cartoonist with the Tribune, enjoyed fishing and swapping yarns together on expeditions in the northern Michigan lake country.

Mrs. Donahey. author of children's books under the name of Mary Dickerson Donahey, told Editor & Publisher that she is often given the credit for writing the stories which accompany her husband's Teenie Weenie illustrations. This is not the case, she stated, for Donahey writes his own stories.

“I ‘illustrate’ the picture with a story.” he explained. “I draw my picture first and then write a little story to tell more about the details.”

Has Interesting Collection
In his studio is an interesting collection of tiny objects which youngsters all over the world have sent te him. They include tiny knives, beds, rugs, furniture and other small articles proportioned to meet the specifications of the Teenie Weenies if they could come to life and use them. Donahey gets a great many letters from youngsters, written in their own handwriting and often addressed to "Mr. Teenie Weenie.”

“I am always fascinated by children,” he said. “I see more interesting things in children than I do in grown-ups. People over-estimate a child’s intelligence. Youngsters have very little consecutive thought; that’s why they jump from one thing to another.”

The day we visited Donahey he had gone out and bought a fish in order to get the proper markings and coloring for a Teenie Weenie episode. Sometime next summer, the fish and the Teenie Weenies will appear in bright color under the magic brush of William Donahey, who has a Sunday "date” with boys and girls of pre-teen age across
the country.

Labels: News of Yore

 

 Meet the Real Miss Fury-It's All Done With Mirrors

By James Aronson (New York Post, April 6 1943)

Girls, you'll have to get in line. Tarpe Mills, creator of “Miss Fury,” is one of you, and she said today she isn’t letting go of Dan Carey just like that. Recently she wrote one of Dan’s more burning admirers:

“Listen, sister, put your name on the waiting list. I got here first!”

This fair warning is given because last month The New York Post received 533 letters from enthusiastic followers of “Miss Fury,” the colored comic page that appears in the Week-End Edition. A lot of the letters were from girls who thought that Dan Carey, one of the heroes of the strip, was mighty brave and handsome, and if they ever met up with a type like him, well, their hearts would be faint and
fluttery.

Tarpe Mills, Erasmus Hall High graduate, said that she literally stumbled into cartooning. She posed for portrait-painters, photographers and sculptors to pay her way through Pratt Institute. She studied sculpture and was told that she showed promise; but the market for birdbaths was pretty dry, so she went into animated cartooning.

Among other things she created a few cat characters which were used in a series of pictures, and finally, she said, “I was carried out of the joint with a nervous breakdown.” It was back to posing and free-lance drawing.

“Then,” she said, "a foot injury kept me out of circulation and I started a serial called “Daredevil Barry Finn" for one of the children's comic books. I hated to drop Barry, so I went into the business whole hog and turned out such hair-raising thrillers as 'The Purple Zombie,’ ‘Devil's Dust’ and “The Cat Man.’

Miss Mills dropped her first name (she won't say what it was) because it was too feminine.

“It would have been a major let-down to the kids if they found out that the author of such virile and awesome characters was a gal,” she said.

Miss Mills said she writes “Miss Fury” to provide amusement for kids and grown-ups
alike. “Fashions, a hint of romance and human interest for the adults. Fantasy and action for the youngsters.”

She admitted she doesn't know where she got her inspiration except that she was one of those imaginative kids “who hang around the house reading books instead of running around outside playing hop-scotch.”

Who poses for the girl characters in “Miss Fury,” she was asked.

“It's all done with mirrors," she said. “l find it simpler to sketch from a mirror than to hire a model and explain just what the character should be doing."

(thanks to Mark Johnson, who supplied the article)

Labels: News of Yore

 

 Former Commando Cartoonist now Fights Daily Deadlines

by Don Maley (Editor & Publisher, June 14 1969)

 

John Henry Rouson draws big laughs with four mini-cartoons he grinds out for General Features Syndicate. Rouson, a transplanted Englishman, says he learned to draw small during World War II when newsprint was scarce on Fleet Street and consequently newspaper art shrunk.

The four cartoons Rouson draws 24-times-a-week are: Boy and Girl, Ladies’ Day, Little Sport and Little Eve. Collectively they appear in 300 papers,according to the syndicate. As an example of the Liliputian size of Rouson’s work both the Little Sport and Little Eve panels are drawn on 1” by 7” inch panels. “All European artists have to draw small,” says Rouson, “in Europe space is valuable.”

His Boy and Girl feature was originally four panel but has been cut down to one column “but could be run in two.” Ladies’ Day is a six-a-week spot designed for distaff sports buffs. Although all four features rate high marks in the humor department. Their creator has a background that reads like something written by Ian Fleming — one of Rouson’s wartime buddies—and is chock-full of adventure, rather than fun.

The 60-year-old artist began drawing comic strips in the very early 30’s “Once I got started,” he says, “things happened quickly.” Quickly indeed. In his heyday in England young Rouson scratched his by-line on to six features: Shop Acts (“Life in a general store . . . six - a - week.”). Our Gracie (“Done with Gracie Fields six times a week.”) Little Sport (“Only once a week then.”), Boy and Girl (“Originally called Boy Meets Girl done once-a-week for the London Sunday Dispatch.”), Theatrical Caricatures for the London Bystander and gag cartoons for Punch.

“I wasn’t making too much money back in those days,” says Rouson, “only about $300 a week.” To supplement his income he appeared on British television drawing cartoons. “We had telly in England back in 1938 and ’39—it was very primitive,” he says. He also drew cartoons and wrote reviews for Modem Motoring, the Roots Motors monthly magazine.

Sporting Publisher
“Another fellow and I started a paper called the Sporting Record,” he says of another venture, “and we ran it for about two years. We bought it very cheaply and eventually built up a circulation of 14,000. We were all set to go into the football season when the war came along and killed it for us. We sold out to a publisher who was looking for a publication that would be a good source of newsprint for his other publications. He built it up however and sold it for a fat quarter-of-a-million. I got back the $20,000 I put into it.”

During the nine years that Rouson expended creative energy all over the British Isles he thrived. “It all sounds like an awful lot of work but it wasn’t really. Everything dovetailed together. I loved both sports and the theatre and I’ve always liked cartooning. I did the strips during the day and the rest of the work at night. It was wonderful in a way, I was in my 20’s then and was young and enthusiastic and found the work relaxing. But by the time the war came around I started to sag.”

Rouson joined the Royal Navy in September, 1939, three days before England went to war against the Axis powers. “I joined the Patrol Service,” he says, “and was assigned to a 46-foot yacht I had sailed before. We were at Dunkirk and were assigned to traffic duty, directing small boats in and out of the beach. The original crew of four grew to six and they promoted me to second in command. We ended up patrolling the Thames doing routine naval drudgery.”


Rouson hates drudgery and as fate would have it the sophisticated cartoonist who joined the Navy as an ordinary seaman (the lowest of the low in the Naval chain of command) was discharged seven years later as a Lieutenant Commander, O. B. E., G. M. The last two letters stand for George Medal, one of Great Britain’s highest military decorations. He succeeded in the Navy by joining an elite group of sailors who seemed hell-bent on committing suicide.

Because of his poor eyesight, the bespectacled Rouson knew he’d never see action more exciting than chasing skinny-dippers out of the Thames, so he volunteered for special assignments as a weapons defuser. “I thought I might have a go at it,” says Rouson Britishly. “It was a little rugged at first. Some of the devices we used in the early months of the war were, now that I think of it, rather laughable. (Sledge hammers and such.) We worked in teams—one officer, one sailor as a rule—and we lost a lot of men at the beginning, but the losses tailed off as we picked up greater experience.

Three Survive
“Of my original 12 man crew I guess only about three came through. Many of the volunteers were fellows who, like myself, had poor eyesight, or other slight physical impairments.” (A close look above Rouson’s horn-rims divulges a scar on the right side of his forehead—a permanent reminder that war is far from hilarious.)

During the early years of thewar, when the Germans were ‘blitzing’ England, Rouson and his crew were kept busy defusing large, magnetic naval mines the Germans parachuted from airplanes.

“At first the Germans dropped them into the sea,” he says, “but they made such a loud noise, scaring the pants off of everybody within earshot, that they switched tactics and started dropping them on land targets. These naval mines were dropped in large numbers during the ‘blitz’ attacks on Coventry and Glasgow. At Glasgow, when we were sent up after a raid, we found about 90 such mines that had been dropped all over the place, and, as was often the case, about one out of every three — in this instance about 30—failed to explode.”

In an attempt to booby-trap the mines, the Germans attached a 14-second timing device designed to blow up anyone attempting to take them apart. Once, Rouson recalls, there was an eight-second count on a mine which he was dismantling.

Rouson’s initial instructions for his dangerous assignment took one entire afternoon. “learned on the job,” he says. “A guy was killed the first day. We didn’t know anything about theory and were quite a group. There were playboys, teachers, businessmen and we even had a hunting secretary with us.” Later Rouson learned how to dive—for undersea work. On an island “south of Singapore,” he found one of the first Japanese mines ever recovered by the Allies. He was on the last English ship to leave Singapore before it fell to the Japanese.

Later he took the first acoustic torpedo out of a German sub—“in the Mediterranean off the French port of Toulon.”

Meets Ian Fleming
It was during this period that Rouson met Ian Fleming when his “Rendering Safe Party” became a “Commando Assault Unit,” and they worked closely with British Intelligence, to which Fleming was assigned.

One expedition Rouson vividly remembers was when six little Japanese two-man subs penetrated the submarine nets at Sydney, Australia, and sneaked into the harbor. “These little subs,” says Rouson, “probably came from a larger sub, got through the Sydney nets at night and created all kinds of confusion.” Rouson and his crew dived for, and reclaimed wreckage from five-and-a-half of them.

Rouson came back from the war with his Boy and Girl strip, which he drew all over the world and mailed to the London Dispatch from wherever his Navy assignments took him. He also returned with tattoed arms. “I got these,” he says of the tattooes, “in Singapore. Over there the Malay sailors respect tattooed officers and all of the British officers stationed there had tattooes, from the Admiral on down.” One of Rouson’s tattooes is a map of England inscribed in Chinese.

Rouson’s experience in the explosives field prompted the U. S. Navy to request his transfer here in 1944 to lecture on his activities to naval personnel. While here he decided that the U. S. was the best place, at war’s end, for him to further his career as a professional cartoonist. “I realized,” he says, “that if I was going to stay with cartooning my future would be in the States.” He had originally visited the U. S. briefly in 1939 and found then that American cartooning markets far surpassed those in England.

Before migrating to the States Rouson found himself at loose ends. “I had just gotten out of the Navy and had found the war to be very exciting. I just couldn’t visualize sitting at a drawing board for the rest of my life.”

Rug Fiasco
So he went to India with another recently-sprung member of his crew. “We bought a warehouse-full of Indian carpets there,” he says, “and had visions of making a fortune exporting them. But we couldn’t get an export license and had to get rid of them.”

Next the war hero — who wanted to be a jockey as a youth—placed an ad in a London paper which read: “Will go anywhere, do anything.” But no one wanted him to go anywhere, or do anything.

Then he went to Paris where he studied and painted steadily for two years before coming to the States.

“When I came here, in 1948, my first interview for a job was with the New York Herald-Tribune,” he says. “I applied for a spot as a theatre caricaturist and they sent me out on an assignment the same day of the interview — to Philadelphia. ‘Oh boy!,’ I thought, ‘This is how they do business in the States’.” Rouson can’t remember the name of the play he was sent to see in Philadelphia, but he does remember the stars: Melvin Douglas and Jan Sterling. “Miss Sterling had a broken nose,” he remembers, “and I noticed that it’s since been changed.”

Rouson stayed with the Herald-Trib until later that year when he Americanized Little Sport, the gag-a-day adventures of a harried, hapless little silent practitioner of many sports who usually seems to be on the losing end (when he rode to hounds, a fox chased thedogs).

Limited Budget
“I only brought $1,000 with me,” he says, “and my budget was extremely limited. I needed an income badly so I showed the strip to a few syndicates but they turned it down. The shape of the strip and everything else about it was so new that nobody thought it had a chance. One night at a cocktail party I met someone who told me I might try the Philadelphia Bulletin. I went there the following day but they too turned down the strip. They could see no hope for it and said it was the wrong shape and full of English humor. I showed it to a reporter who liked it and he told me to try the Philadelphia Inquirer. Eventually they bought it and ran it in the Inquirer and in the Morning Telegraph, another Annenberg paper. Later we syndicated it with George Little of General Features and within a few months we were in 70 papers.”

That was in February, 1949. In October, 1955 Rouson Americanized Boy and Girl, aided and abetted by George Little. Little Eve first saw the light of day in January of 1954 and was drawn by his ex-wife Jolita. Although divorced, Rouson continues to draw the strip under Jolita’s by-line. Ladies Day came into being December, 1958.

Horsey Artist
Little Sport started out as a racing feature, but in order to gain a more universal appeal Rouson switched his attention to all sports. “It’s simply an attempt to satisfy everybody from the major sports on down to horseshoe pitching and weightlifting. Racing, however, continues as my favorite sport. Baseball? The sport seems to have some wonderful personalities, but it still seems like ‘rounders’ to me.”

“I get some funny mail on that Little Sport,” says Rouson, for 17 years a resident of New York’s Staten Island, “a lot of people think there’s a code someplace in the strip that gives the numbers of winning racehorses. I don’t know how people see these things in the strip, the only code I use is a numerical one for the date.”

The self-taught artist is much sought-after by racehorse owners. “I do a lot of horse portraits by commission only,” he says, “and many of them have appeared in Turf magazine. I’ve travelled all over the U.S. and Canada doing horse portraits and love doing it. I’d like to do it full-time, but I have my strips and although it sometimes gets tedious doing four strips a week I like doing them too.’’

He finds painting to be a form of therapy. “Besides thoroughbreds,” he says, “I have a great appreciation for color . . . it’s such a welcome change to be able to use color after the daily routine of black and white in newspaper work.”

The son of a butcher (“It’s a paradox, he loved animals.”) Rouson is a life-long horse buff. “An uncle of mine,” he says, “was a carriage builder to the Royal Family and he owned some trotters. One of my biggest thrills as a kid was when he let me hold the horse’s reins. And I was always reading Sporting Sketches magazine, it was full of beautiful sketches of jockeys and horses.”

“I sometimes wish,” he says, gazing out at the view of New York Harbor he can see from his patio, “that I could devote all of my energy into just one strip. With income tax the way it is I could comfortably drop a strip or two and get along just great, but my contract won’t allow me to do so.”

The former theatre critic says he has “no enthusiasm for writing anymore.” He even hates to answer his mail. “Cartooning,” he concludes, “has become a way of life with me. It used to be an adventure, but no more. I’m at an age now where I feel that my next big adventure will be retirement.
 

Labels: News of Yore

 

Newspaper Readers Watching 'Dick and Jane' Run 

(from Editor and Publisher, March 24 1984)

 

 "Dick and Jane," a comic featuring the characters many American schoolchildren learned to read with, was introduced by the Register and Tribune Syndicate (RTS) earlier this month.

Charter newspapers for Chuck Roth's new strip include the Philadelphia Inquirer, Orlando Sentinel, Dallas Times Herald, Detroit News and Baltimore Evening Sun.

One Sunday episode reads, "See Dick eating a vanilla ice cream cone," "See Jane eating a chocolate ice cream cone," "See Sally eating a strawberry ice cream cone," then the dog Spot zooms by and swipes the ice cream from each of the three cones. The last panel states, "See Spot eating a Neapolitan ice cream cone."

"Even though the comic strip may be classified as adult-level humor, I have tried never to lose sight of the pure, simplistic approach," said Roth. "Actually, as the strip progressed, I felt like one of the kids! I guess emotionally there's still a child somewhere in all of us."

RTS president Dennis R. Allen found Roth after a more than seven-year search for the right  "Dick and Jane" cartoonist.

Roth is president and founder of the California-based Roth International. The design company works with over 200 firms worldwide under licensing contracts to apply Roth designs to products in more than 100 categories. Prior to that, he headed the Roth Greeting Card Company.

The cartoonist traces his artistic beginnings back to the third grade in Toronto, where he entered the Ontario Safety League poster contest and won second prize over thousands of other entrants. Roth later completed the art course at Central Technical School in Toronto, and, after moving to the U.S., attended the Art Center School of Design in Los Angeles.

 Thanks to John Lund for sending the article. John, your email address is not working, my emails are bouncing back.

 

Labels: News of Yore

 From the Brooklyn Times, Sept. 24 1914:

$250,000 SUIT AGAINST ALLEGED HUSBAND STEALER

An alienation suit for $250,000 has been filed in the Supreme Court by Mrs. Irene Lamkin against Miss (sic) Maude McCay of Sheepshead Bay.

Mrs. Lamkin alleges that Miss McCay stole her husband's affections and prevailed upon him to abandon her June 15. When Mr. Lamkin left her, so Mrs. Lamkin asserts, he went to Sheepshead Bay. The Lamkins were married eight years ago. According to Mrs. Lamkin her husband met Miss McCay during the summer of 1913.


From the Pittsburgh Gazette Times, Dec. 23 1914:

Winsor McCay Tells Threats Of Mrs.Lamkin

 Cartoonist Testifies in Effort to Prove ''Frame-Up" in $250,000 Heart Balm Suit.

  SAYS HIS WIFE IS BLAMELESS

 [Special Telegram to Gazette Times]
NEW YORK, Dec. 22.    Winsor McCay, the cartoonist, was the star witness today in the trial of the divorce suit brought by Mrs. Irene Watkins Lamkin against her husband, Henry Tobin Lamkin. The case is being tried in the State Supreme Court before Justice Erlanger. Mrs. Maude McCay, wife of the cartoonist, is named as co-respondent.

The McCays assert that the Lamkins are acting in collusion. Mrs. Lamkin has begun a suit for $250,000 damages for alleged alienation of her husband's affections against Mrs. McCay. Lawyer Norton announced he would prove a "frame-up" by the plaintiff and defendant of the divorce case to obtain money from the McCays.

Mr. McCay testified that he had been married 23 years and was satisfied that his wife was true and the victim of a "frameup."

The night of March 8, McCay said, Mrs. Lamkin sought him at the stage door of a theater where he was appearing and threatened that unless he did something for her she would begin proceedings  against Mrs. McCay, saying:

"Your wife has ruined my home, alienated my husband's affections and you will have to support me." When he protested he could not support her, McCay said, Mrs. Lamkin threatened publicity, adding: "You are making $100,000 a year. I'll bring suit against you and drive Mrs. McCay from New York." McCay said she telephoned him continually until he consented to a meeting, He said Mr. Lamkin remarked: "They are together this very minute."

Later he took Mrs. Lamkin to dinner and during the meal Mrs. Lamkin said; "If they are out together why can't we be out together?" McCay said he spent $28 for wine that night and bought imported cigarets, after which he took her in a taxicab to Shanley's.

"Her actions were such that I knew I was in the hands of a bad woman," the cartoonist testified. "I would rather not tell the details. I took her behind the scenes at Hammerstein's and later took her home, as she said we ought not to stay out all night."

"After many telephone entreaties," McCay said, he went to the Iowa apartments, "to see this $250,000 husband," meaning Lamkin. Both Lamkins greeted him so cordially that he took them out for an evening in the all-night restaurant belt, the party continuing until 5:30 o'clock in the morning.

Lamkin on that occasion, the witness swore, declared that Mrs. Lamkin was the cleverest, handsomest woman in the world and that he was not going to give her up. Mr. McCay said his own reply was: "You stick to your wife, and if you injure my wife I'll kill you." He said Lamkin replied: "Your wife is a good pure woman. She thinks you are a great man, but you don't take her out often enough."




And finally from the Washington Post, Dec. 24 1914:

MRS. M'CAY CLEARED

 Cartoonist's Wife Vindicated of Charges in Divorce Case

NEVER IN BATH WITH LAMKIN

 New York Jurist Dismises Action for Divorce on Motion of Attorney for Artist's Helpmeet, but Refuses Similar Motion by Mrs. Lamkin's Lawyer on Ground of Collusion 

New York, Dec. 23.

Mrs. Maude I. McCay, wife of Winsor McCay, a cartoonist, was vindicated today when Justice Erlanger, in the Supreme Court, dismissed the action for divorce brought by Mrs. Irene Walkins Lamkin against her husband, Harry Tobin Lamkin, in which Mrs. McCay was namd as corespondent.

The justice declared that there was evidence of collusion between the plaintiff and the defendant and refused to permit further attacks upon the character of Mrs. McCay by counsel of Mrs. Lamkin.

Denies Bathing Charge

In her deposition, Mrs. McCay denied, among other things, a charge that on one occasion she had taken a bath in the same tub with Harry Tobin Lamkin. Mrs. McCay not only denied all the charges made by Mrs. Lamkin, but advanced the contention that she and Lamkin were never married legally.

Refuses to Call It Mistrial

Mrs. Lamkin's counsel made a motion that the trial be declared a mistrial, but this was promptly denied by Justice Erlanger, who said that in a case of this character, where the defendant refused to defend the action, the corespondent must be given all the rights of the defendant and be permitted to testify fully.

Lived Together Despite Conditions

Elliott Norton, counsel for Mrs. McCay, moved that the action be dismissed, and in his argument directed attention to the fact that it had been proven that the plaintiff had continued to live with her husband at least one year after she admitted she knew of his relations with other women.

Labels: News of Yore

 

 Tribute Paid To Newsboys In Stamp Issue

Given Special Recognition Nation-Wide; Ceremony at Philadelphia

Philadelphia, October 6 1952 (AP) -- The nation's great paused yesterday to pay tribute to the boy next door -- the one who delivers your newspaper.

The youthful champions of free enterprise got special recognition yesterday when the U.S. Post Office placed on sale a three-cent stamp honoring their service to community and country.

In a special ceremony at Benjamin Franklin Institute, Postmaster General Jesse M. Donaldson will present the first stamp to a newspaperboy. The Franklin Institute was chosen, Donaldson said, because Franklin was "probably the first newspaperboy."

The stamp will be sold exclusively in Philadelphia for a short time and then will be placed on sale throughout the nation. It depicts a newspaperboy carrying papers in an average American community. On the boy's bag is the legend, "Busy Boys . . . Better Boys."The stamp, printed in three shades of purple, was adapted from a sketch made by the Philadelphia Evening Bulletin's editorial cartoonist, F.O. Alexander.

The paper carriers were honored by the Bulletin at a banquet Friday attended by such prominent former newspaperboys as Secretary of the Treasury John W. Snyder, Harold Stassen, president of the University of Pennsylvania, former U.S. Senator Francis J. Myers and Horace A. Hildreth, president of Bucknell University and former governor of Maine.

Similar ceremonies were held throughout the country in conjunction with National Newspaper Week.

"F.O. Alexander in his office at the Philadelphia Evening Bulletin on May 28 1965. 

Alex strikes a pose with an unlit pipe at his drawing board. Out the window can be seen the northern end of the platforms at 30th Street Station. 

He gave me this original in about 1980, I have no idea where or if it was published. He passed away in 1993. He told me he lost his hair in a mustard gas attack in frontline combat in WWI. Pictures of him in the 1920s would bear that out."

Labels: News of Yore

Wee Pals Strip takes its Creator into Big Business

by Jim Scott (Editor & Publisher, January 15 1972)

 

Morrie Turner conducts a 'chalk talk' for children in Berkeley school.

Labels: News of Yore

 

Bell Features and Personnel move to United

Labels: News of Yore

[Here is an article that ran in the April 21 1962 issue of Editor & Publisher. Has anyone encountered Howie Reed in a newspaper? The New Orleans Times-Picayune would seem a good place to start, but unfortunately it seems to not be online.]

New Book Page Panel Drawn by Fitzgerald 

Labels: Mystery Strips, News of Yore

Appearance of Miss Clare Briggs' Cartoons in Morning Tribune is Real Homecoming

Daughter of Late Famed Artist is Former Minneapolis Girl -- Will Come Here From Chicago to Visit Miss Helen Curtis in Late September

Labels: News of Yore

[In 1892 the Chicago Inter Ocean became the first U.S. newspaper to print a color section using a high-speed press. It was a watershed event that soon led to a golden age for newspapers, including the invention of the Sunday funnies.

My thanks to Guy Lawley who has given me permission to run this very interesting article from his personal archives. It originally ran in the Inter Ocean illustrated supplement of March 25 1893.]

RAPID COLOR WORK

First Perfecting Press with Color

THE ILLUSTRATED SUPPLEMENT

A Great Advance Made in Printing to Meet the Demands of The Inter Ocean.

 

The illustrated supplement of THE INTER OCEAN is the first successful attempt in America to print in colors on a perfecting press. Until THE INTER OCEAN began the publication of this supplement last June all color work of this character was done on slow presses, running, perhaps, 930 to 1,230 sheets a day. On the other hand THE INTER OCEAN press, which is a new invention, prints 7,503 perfect papers per hour. The Petit Journal of Paris publishes a supplement in colors, for which it also uses a perfecting press, but it has a capacity of only about 3,500 copies per hour.

In explanation, a perfecting press is one that completes its work by one continuous operation. The white paper enters the press at one end from a continuous roll and leaves it at the other end a complete paper, printed, folded, and ready for delivery. This supplement, as offered to the readers of THE INTER OCEAN, leaves the press just as it is delivered to subscribers. The perfecting press superseded the old rotary press in daily newspaper work many years ago, but color work was never attempted on such presses until THE INTER OCEAN undertook it.

THE INTER OCEAN press is the invention of Walter Scott, who was formerly foreman of the press-room of THE INTER OCEAN. and who is now the famous press-builder of Plainfield, N. J. When the proprietors of THE INTER OCEAN desired to publish a paper in color after the manner of the supplement of the Petit Journal, they looked around to find where they could secure a Press that would do such work. Mr. Scott undertook the job of inventing and building such a machine as was desired, and within six months of the time he received the order the press was running in THE INTER OCEAN press-room. It has been at work steadily and without need of repair since June 20, 1892.

The weight of this press is about 18 tons. It is 6 feet wide, 7 feet 5 inches high, and, including folder and roller-stand, about 16 feet from end to end. The heart of the press is the offset cylinder in the center. This cylinder is 48 inches in diameter. About this cylinder are four traveling cylinders, each 14 5/8 inches in diameter. These cylinders carry the plates that impinge with every revolution upon the impression cylinder.

The paper, starting from a continuous roll, gets the first impression from the lower cylinder, which is belted with four stereotyped plates for the four inside pages of the paper, and is printed in black ink. The paper sheet then passes to the cylinder directly above, belted with electrotyped plates for illustration. These plates are inked with yellow, the first color for ground work, and are for the color pages of the paper. The sheet passes directly over the offset cylinder to the top impression cylinder for other plates, which are inked with red, and furnishes the second color. The sheet having received its impress passes directly to the cylinder below, where the ink is blue. From there the sheet passes to another cylinder, and gets its finishing impression of black. The press is so arranged as to print either four or two pages in colors. After leaving the last cylinder the paper enters the folding part of the machine.

The machine is one of the perfections of mechanical ingenuity and construction, and its operations have been viewed with wonder and surprise by many thousands. We give this description of its operations because of the frequent inquiries from readers asking how it is that such color work is done for a daily newspaper.

Labels: News of Yore

[When a book of Winsor McCay's "Dream of the Rarebit Fiend" was published a publicity article was sent out to newspapers nationwide. Many newspapers edited it for length, but I think I worked from a pretty complete version for this reprinting. I worked primarily from the version that ran in the Minneapolis Tribune on October 9 1905]

 How The Rarebit Fiend Happened

by "Silas" (Winsor McCay)

Author of "The Dream of the Rarebit Fiend"

 

Labels: News of Yore