When Jack Met Dick

As you may have heard, there's a presidential debate coming up next week between Vice President Kamala Harris and convicted felon Donald Joffrey Trump; so today's Graphical History Tour travels back to September 26, 1960 and the granddaddy of all presidential debates.

"We Have Temporarily Lost Our Picture" by Joseph Parrish in Chicago Tribune, Sept. 27, 1960

The televised debate between Senator John F. Kennedy and Vice President Richard M. Nixon was precedent-setting. Never before had rival presidential nominees of the two major parties shared a stage face-to-face, answering the same questions and each other.

"News Item" by Vaughn Shoemaker in Chicago Daily News, Sept. 27, 1960

What about the famous Lincoln-Douglas debates, I hear you asking. Or maybe it's just the voices in my head. Either way, yes, a series of debates pitted Abraham Lincoln and Steven Douglas against each other in their race for the U.S. Senate seat from Illinois in 1858, but were not repeated when the two vied for the presidency two years later. 

According to contemporary newspaper accounts, 12,000 attended their first debate at Ottawa, 16,000 to 18,000 in Galesburg, 15,000 in Freeport, 12,000 in Quincy, and 5,000 to 10,000 at the last debate in Alton. Given that hyperbole was not unknown in reporting of the time, Vaughn Shoemaker's head count is probably just as valid as any of the others.

"You Were Simply Wonderful" by Gib Crockett in Washington Star, Sept. 28, 1960

Neither Kennedy nor Nixon delivered any memorable zingers, stumbled into major gaffes, or weaved around aimlessly between child care, tariffs, Marco Rubio and the U.S. being a failing nation at their debate. The Louisville Courier-Journal judged that Nixon "had the more flexible and resonant voice of the two," and that Kennedy "often spoke too rapidly" but "seemed less self-conscious than Nixon." A voter interviewed by the Chicago Tribune said that "Nixon made out a bit stronger case, but I got a better impression of Kennedy than I'd had before this show."

"T-V for Victory" by Jesse Taylor Cargill for Central Press Assn., ca. Sept. 30, 1960

On the other hand, the New York Daily News complained that the debate was "a weak and wishy washy piece of history. Both candidates, we thought, overdid the Alphonse-Gaston politeness." The Sacramento Bee agreed, calling it "more of a polite parlor tete a tete than a debate" and griping, "Kennedy and Nixon stipulated there would be no personalities in the debate. The result was like tossing away half the case for Kennedy." 

"The Winner" by Roy Justus in Minneapolis Star, Sept. 28, 1960

What stuck in the collective memory had more to do with appearances than who made the stronger case for himself. I've heard that television viewers thought that Kennedy "won" the debate, whereas radio listeners tended to find Nixon the winner (which may reflect the age of the respective audiences, too).

Nixon's five-o'clock shadow was only one factor for those who judged by appearances; after all, Herblock had been drawing Nixon with darkened chin and jowls for years. Both candidates declined CBS's offer of make-up; Kennedy's slight suntan photographed well anyway, but Nixon was recovering from a bout of flu that rendered him pale and sweaty. Perhaps more significantly in the Age of Television, whereas Kennedy spoke directly to the camera, Nixon faced the off-camera debate moderators when answering their questions.

"Tongue Smoke" by Frank Miller in Des Moines Register, Sept. 28, 1960

Television being a fairly young medium at the time, several editorial cartoonists drew less inspiration from what the candidates said than where they said it. Frank Miller's cartoon references the number one most popular TV series on the tube in 1960.

"I'm Not Satisfied" by Richard Q. Yardley in Baltimore Sun, Sept. 27, 1960

Still, there were a few cartoonists who dove into the specifics of the debate. Nixon, of course, promised that his policies would continue the post-war economic growth the nation had experienced during (most of) the Eisenhower administration. Kennedy promised that he could do better.

I guess Nikita Khruschev and Mao Zedong are peeking from behind the wall in Yardley's cartoon as an acknowledgement that although this first debate centered on domestic issues, foreign policy would be the focus of a future debate between the candidates.

"The Debate—American Style and Russian" by Carey Orr in Chicago Tribune, Sept. 29, 1960

Carey Orr couldn't wait, taking the occasion to remind his readers that the U.S.S.R. had brutally suppressed an anti-Soviet rebellion in Hungary four summers earlier.

Bill Mauldin in St. Louis Post-Dispatch, Sept. 28, 1960

Bill Mauldin highlighted promises by both candidates to replace Secretary of Agriculture Ezra Taft Benson. Benson's opposition to price supports and government agriculture subsidies won him few friends among farmers, who you might expect would be a key constituency of the Department of Agriculture. As a cleric on the Mormon Church's Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, moreover, his appointment had been opposed by the American Council of Churches, which viewed his church as a anti-Christian cult. (Some of them had the same opinion of Kennedy's Roman Catholic faith.)

Benson had served as Secretary of Agriculture for all eight years of Dwight Eisenhower's presidency, however, so it was extremely unlikely that he would continue in the post beyond January, 1961 in any event.

"Critic" by Bill Sanders in Greensboro (NC) Daily News, Sept. 28, 1960

And that takes care of the Cartoons About Substance. Bill Sanders returns us to the historical significance of the Democratic and Republican presidential candidates appearing together on the telly.

"Don't All Come at Once" by Franklin Morse in Los Angeles Mirror, Sept. 27, 1960

I was surprised to find that some cartoonists didn't bother to draw about the Kennedy-Nixon debate at all that week. There was, however, plenty of other material for a cartoonist to work with.

The United Nations General Assembly was held that week, witnessing Soviet First Secretary Nikita Khruschev pounding his shoe on the podium and calling for the firing of U.N. Secretary-General Dag Hammarskjold. Third World leaders denounced Western colonialism; the harangue by Fidel Castro, barely into his second year as Prime Minister of Cuba, lasted four-hours.

Meanwhile, the space exploration program of the U.S. was struggling to catch up to that of the U.S.S.R. No manned space flights had taken place yet — just dogged, monkeyed, moused, rabbited, and fruit flied ones. Russia was first to send satellites into Earth orbit and probes to the moon; the U.S. had experienced mixed success with both efforts.

"What Are You Fellows Arguing About" by Hugh Haynie in Louisville Courier-Journal, Sept. 27, 1960

And, of course, there was baseball for anyone bored by national, global, and extraterrestrial affairs.

"What Do You Suppose Happened After the Debate Went Off the Air" by Frank Interlandi for Register and Tribune Syndicate, Sept. 27, 1960

Nixon and Kennedy met for three more debates before the election, on October 7, 13, and 21.

After that, there would be a 16-year hiatus, including two more Nixon election campaigns, before candidates for president would meet for another debate.

Memorial Day 1924

In observation of Memorial Day Weekend, today's Graphical History Tour resurrects a handful of Memorial Day cartoons from 100 years ago.

"To-Day" by Ted Brown in Chicago Daily News, May 30, 1924

Memorial Day, as I'm sure you know, was established to commemorate the soldiers killed in the U.S. Civil War. By 1924, that war was almost 60 years in the past, and few of that war's generation were still around.

"A Message from Arlington" by Jim Ring in Washington (DC) Times, May 30, 1924

So it is hardly surprising that cartoonists such as Jim Ring chose to honor the fallen of the nation's most recent armed conflict. 

"Through the Curtains of Time" by Dennis McCarthy in Fort Worth Record, May 30, 1924

Memorial Day now honors the dead from all wars, police actions, and those undeclared hostilities we get into nowadays, since the signing of the Declaration of Independence. I'm not quite sure why Dennis McCarthy chose to overlook American soldiers who died in the final year of World War I; perhaps he was referencing the years in which the nation entered into conflict.

"Precious Memories" by Winsor McCay for Star Company, May 30, 1924

The tombstones in Winsor McCay's cartoon mark the years of the Declaration of Independence, the start of the Civil and Spanish-American Wars, and the end of World War I. The tombstone for the Mexican-American War must be hidden behind Miss Columbia.

This, by the way, was the only cartoon I came across featuring Miss Columbia. In earlier decades, she, rather than the more political, even comical Uncle Sam, was the go-to figure for cartoonists wishing to portray the nation's sorrow.

"Lest We Who Inherit Its Blessings Forget..." by J.N. "Ding" Darling in Des Moines Tribune, May 30, 1924

But as the 20th Century progressed, Uncle Sam became the preferred figure to represent the United States on solemn occasions.

"A Real Tribute..." by John McCutcheon in Chicago Tribune, May 30, 1924

John McCutcheon used Memorial Day to comment on current events: the House had just voted  adequate defense shipbuilding funds to achieve the "5-5-3 ratio" of U.S., Great Britain, and Japan's navies stipulated by post-war treaty. Coming as this did after passage of the Japanese Exclusion Act, relations between the two Pacific powers had soured greatly.

"From Bunker Hill to Metz" by Wilbert Holloway in Pittsburgh Courier, May 31, 1924

If a 1924 cartoon acknowledges that Black soldiers fought and died in America's wars, you know it was by a Black cartoonist drawing for a newspaper with a Black readership base. Wilbert Louie Holloway, 1899-1969, came to Pittsburgh from Indiana. His first cartoons appeared on the Courier's editorial page in October, 1923 and became a regular feature. With the May 31, 1924 issue, his name (as "W.T. Holloway") was added to the paper's masthead as Staff Artist. Launching a weekly comic strip, "Sunny Boy Sam" in 1928, Holloway remained on the Courier staff until his death.

"100 Per Cent Americans" by Roy James in St. Louis Star, May 30, 1924

Roy James's attempt to advocate for interracial brotherhood of comrades in arms, I think, falls a bit flat — at least by today's standards. Nice try, though.

"This Day We Dedicate to the Memory of Those Who Have Passed" by Harold Wahl in Sacramento Bee, May 30, 1924

Returning to our focus on Memorial Day, Harold Wahl allows the reader to project whatever race or nationality you like (but one belief system) onto his silhouetted figures.

Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori.

Through History with D. Henry Smith

Our Saturday History Tour this week looks at some of the November output of editorial cartoonist Dorman H. Smith on the topic of that month's Disarmament Conference.

"Brought Into Court at Last" by Dorman H. Smith for Newspaper Enterprise Assn., by Nov. 12, 1921

I've come across two slightly different curricula vitae for Smith (1892-1956). John Adcock reports that Smith sold his first published drawing to Life magazine at the age of 17. Per Adcock, Smith began his editorial cartooning career with the Cleveland-based Newspaper Enterprise Association, a division of Scripps-Howard Newspapers, in 1921, then left for the Chicago Herald and Examiner in 1933.

"Annoying, to Say the Least" by Smith for NEA, by Nov. 1, 1921

AskART, citing "Artists in California, 1786-1940" by Edan Hughes, Who's Who in American Art 1940; Who's Who in California 1942; and Smith's March 2, 1956 obituary in the New York Times, says that "Smith worked briefly in the steel mills before getting a job as an advertising artist in Columbus [Ohio]. A self-taught artist, he was a cartoonist for the Des Moines News (1919-21) and New York American (1927-29). He then was a cartoonist for the San Francisco Examiner while living across the Golden Gate in San Anselmo."

"Sounds Like a Bad Egg" by Smith for NEA, by Nov. 14, 1921

These accounts aren't necessarily mutually exclusive; either contains some information that the other lacks. Also, while the NEA had its cartoonists' offices in Cleveland, Smith might have at times worked from offices at another newspaper. 

For example, I found this classified ad, in which Smith had a California P.O. address, run in various newspapers between 1932 and 1941, when Smith was reportedly working for the Chicago Herald and Examiner. Yet a September, 1935 column by O.O. McIntire identified Smith as "a San Francisco cartoonist." A syndicated list of celebrity birthdays in February, 1937, however, identified him as "Dorman H. Smith, of Chicago, cartoonist." 

Cartoonists generally did not write the name of their home newspaper or syndication service on their cartoons; that information might be typeset alongside or below the other cartoonists' captions, but I haven't seen that with Smith's work. 

"The Key to the Whole Situation" by Smith for NEA, by Nov. 15, 1921

In any case, Smith's cartoons quickly appeared in some 700 NEA newspapers around the country in 1921, and it's not difficult to see why. His simple pen-and-ink drawing style appealed to editors, readers, and any lay-out guys who preferred white space to lots and lots of gray grease pencil. (He would employ grease pencil in some of his later work, however, including cartoons for Collier's — a job neither Adcock nor AskART mentions.)

His Republican, isolationist leanings suited the popular mood of the day; since he generally approved of the actions of the decade's Republican presidents and congresses, any criticisms he made tended to be aimed at foreigners and such bêtes noirs as high prices, rents, and taxes.

"China Knows Good Style" by Smith for NEA, by Nov. 19, 1921

Until I found that Adcock has probably left out a few details, I imagined Smith leaving the NEA to draw for the Chicago Herald and Examiner, his train passing by Herblock's, who left the Chicago Daily News in 1933 to replace the NEA's then cartoonist. Was that Smith? Adcock says so, but Herblock never mentions Smith by name in his own memoir, Herblock: A Cartoonist's Life (Random House, 1998).

"We Won't Have Any Peace Until the Cook Is Fired, Too" by Smith for NEA, by Nov. 22, 1921

Whereas Smith's isolationism was a perfect fit with William Randolph Hearst's newspapers whether in Chicago or San Francisco, Herblock repeatedly clashed with the anti-New Deal, isolationist President of the NEA, Fred Ferguson. When, in 1943, Herblock answered the draft to military service (albeit stateside), Smith returned to the NEA as his replacement's replacement.

I guess he might have been the Grover Cleveland of editorial cartoonists.

"Let's Hope She Doesn't Stumble Over Anything" by Smith for NEA, Nov. 26, 1921

Smith was considered for Pulitzers for editorial cartooning in 1930 and 1946, but never won the prize. Adcock reports, however, that Smith "won numerous awards for cartooning and in 1950 was awarded the George Polk Memorial award presented by the journalism department of Long Island University for his two 1949 interviews with Stalin." (I'm not finding that award here. Meanwhile, according to Editorial Cartoon Awards, 1922-1997, Heinz Dietrich Fischer, ed., Smith was working for the San Francisco Examiner in 1930 and Newspaper Enterprise Association in 1946.)

"Little Lord Fauntleroy" by Dorman H. Smith for NEA, by Nov. 25, 1921

Some of his awards I've found in news reports include the Sigma Delta Chi award for editorial cartooning in 1946, and a medal from the Freedom Foundation in 1949 for a cartoon titled "Every Man a King." Smith was too ill to attend the ceremony in Atlantic City, New Jersey, when he won the National Headliners Club medal for "consistently outstanding editorial cartoons" in 1950.

So now you know just about everything I know about Dorman H. Smith, and I haven't managed to tell you one damned thing today about the Washington Disarmament Conference, China, Anglo-Japan alliances, the Open Door Policy, or Burr Shafer.

Something Moral, Something Blue

Orville Williams in New York Journal, ca. April 5, 1921

I had intended to run this last week in time for the Oscars, but these cartoons have waited an entire century. What difference is seven more days going to make?

100 years ago, the films playing at your great-grandparents' local Odeon might feature sexual promiscuity, swearing, disrespectful depictions of clergy, and even partial nudity. Your great-grandmother was shocked at the stuff great-grandfather took the family to see. On Sunday, no less!

1921 saw a flurry of legislation to censor the movies — somewhere around 100 bills in 37 states. New York created the first official censorship board that year, six years after The Supreme Court had ruled unanimously that motion pictures had no First Amendment rights.

"No Chance to Go Wrong" by Albert Reid in New York Evening Mail, April 1921

Given how the Christianist Right came to be synonymous with the Republican Party in recent decades, you might be surprised to see a staunch Republican like Albert Reid ridiculing prudish censorship. Issues cut across party lines much more a century ago than they do today, however, and the call to clean up the movies was then viewed as a progressive cause. 

It arose from the same social activism that gave the nation Prohibition, and was expanding its purview toward bans on tobacco smoking and chewing. Reid's cartoon above, and this one by Craig Fox, suggest that their successes would not have been possible without female suffrage (which, by the way, Reid strongly supported).

"No Wonder Willie Weeps" by Craig Fox in Rochester Democrat and Chronicle, April, 1921

Women were only one of the liberal groups behind these moves to improve society. Consider that Blue Laws, prohibiting a wide swath of activities on Sundays, were supported by unions as one way of ensuring that their members got that day off from work.

"Tying the 'Nots'" by Harold J. Wahl in Sacramento Bee, April, 1921

But there's the rub. If you mandated Sundays off for all those movie projectionists, baseball players, popcorn hawkers, and the rest, what were Grandpa and the family supposed to do with their day off?

Well, the social reformers had a ready answer for that, too.

"The First Blue Sunday" by Alfred G. "Zere" Ablitzere in New York Evening Post, May, 1921

Alfred Ablitzere made a whole series of these "First Blue Sunday" cartoons in which his Blue Law Officer waged a valiant battle against all sorts of sacrilegious Sabbath activity. 

"The First Blue Sunday" by "Zere" Ablitzere in NY Evening Post, June, 1921

You will notice that some of these activities would not have required any employees to have shown up for work.

"The First Blue Sunday" by "Zere" Ablitzere in NY Evening Post, July, 1921 

But I guess Officer Blue Law's tireless efforts were appreciated by those workers such as this noble lifeguard who were able to take the Lord's Day off. The officer's was not a completely thankless job.

"The First Blue Sunday" by Alfred G. "Zere"Ablitzere in NY Evening Post, April, 1921

And thus, having successfully reformed everyone in this country, the social justice warriors of 1921 were eager to expand globally.

"Keeping Up with the Neighbors" by Ted Brown in Chicago Daily News, April, 1921

And heck (if you will pardon such strong language), why even stop there?

"The Futurist Saturday Sunset" by Edward Gale in Los Angeles Times, March, 1921

The Front Porch Campaign

You, if you happen to be the most corrupt president in the history of the United States, might mock Joe Biden for (supposedly) campaigning from his basement this summer. But in a way, Biden's low-travel campaign hearkens back to the way things were a century ago. As this year's campaign kicks off in earnest, here's what editorial cartoons had to say about the campaigns of 1920.

"And Everybody Was Expecting Turmoil" by Billy Ireland in Columbus Dispatch, August, 1920

I've enlarged Mrs. Buckeye's dialogue balloon, but since it's still hard to read on most screens, I'll copy it here: "Everybody said when they heard it was twins that we Buckeyes were in for an awful busy summer but things have been slipping along so quiet you wouldn't know the twins were in the house!"

"Interpreting the Oracle" by Rollin Kirby in New York World, August, 1920

Warren Harding's front porch campaign was itself a throwback to an earlier time. William Jennings Bryan and Teddy Roosevelt embraced the whistlestop style, campaigning to large crowds of citizens from the back of a train or in packed civic squares. Once upon a time, however, such pandering to the hoi polloi was considered beneath the dignity of the presidency. Campaigning was done by surrogates — assuming that the candidate's message remained intact through the surrogates' interpretation.

"The Burning Question" by Clifford Berryman in Washington (D.C.) Evening Post, August 17, 1920

Harding promised a return to what he called "normalcy," adding a new word to the English language. What "normalcy" would look like was largely up to the voter's imagination. 

Mr. Harding would in fact venture out on the hustings in September, not unlike the tradition up until recently of starting the presidential campaign in earnest only after Labor Day. The Democratic ticket, however, was already waging a much more active campaign.

"The Beauty and the Bathers" by Jay N. "Ding" Darling in Colliers, September 4, 1920

This is an unusual cartoon in that "Ding" Darling includes the Democratic Vice Presidential candidate, Franklin Delano Roosevelt. There have occasionally been editorial cartoonists who drew the Veep candidate often (e.g., Thomas Nast and B. Gratz Brown; R.C. Bowman and Adlai Stevenson); but as a rule, you didn't find a lot of ink spent on the #2 spot on the ticket.

I'll be surprised if I run across any more cartoons about either FDR or Calvin Coolidge between now and — frankly — the centennial of Harding's demise.

"What's Detaining You?" by T.E. Powers for Star Company, ca. Sept. 2, 1920

Whether the U.S. ought to join the League of Nations may have been the dominant issue in the 1920 campaign, but there were others.

"Everything but the Crowd" by Albert T. Reid in The National Republican, ca. August 27, 1920

Republican cartoonist Albert Reid crammed as many complaints against the Democratic Party as he possibly could into this cartoon, and you can easily imagine Antonio Branco, Ben Garrison, Mike Lester, or any of the other partisan Republican cartoonists regurgitating the same cartoon today. Just replace Cox with Biden, Europe and the League of Nations with China and the World Health Organization, and Murphy and Taggart with Bernie Sanders and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez.

"The Dickens of It..." by Jay N. "Ding" Darling in New York Tribune, August, 1920

Darling here packed in even more "political garbage" than is in Reid's sideshow; "U.S. Snail Service" taking up the left barge resonates anew today. Yet there is a distinct sense in this cartoon that the Democratic nominee is saddled with "8 years accumulation of political garbage" unfairly. Cox wields his "League Issue" oars against the "tide of public opinion that the Democrats have bungled"; Democratic bungling is not presented as actual fact.

Darling, a loyal Republican, departed from most of his party on the issue of the League of Nations. He did not support Warren Harding, although he was ultimately not impressed with James Cox, either.

"Vox Pop Versus Vox Cox" by John T. McCutcheon in Chicago Tribune, ca. Sept. 1, 1920

John McCutcheon put forth the same vague sentiment as the tide of public feeling, but without bothering to mention any specifics. "Solid South" demands "four more years of office holding," while Cox complains that "The Republicans are trying to buy you." More on that in a moment.

"The New Housekeeper" by Cyrus Hungerford in Pittsburgh Sun, September 4, 1920

The ratification of the 19th Amendment added a new wrinkle to political prognostication. Plenty of cartoons poked fun at couples whose votes would now cancel each other out; Cy Hungerford instead predicted that women's role would be to clean up the mess menfolk had made of things.

"The New Campaign Issue" by Ted Brown in Chicago Daily News, Aug./Sept., 1920

James Cox tried to add another issue to the campaign, accusing Republicans of amassing a $16 million slush fund. The GOP denied it, and when Cox personal representative E.H. Moore testified before a congressional committee, he proved short on specifics.

"The Old Porch Chair" by Rollin Kirby in New York World, Sept. 4, 1920

What one believed depended upon what one was predisposed to believe. (Sound familiar?)

"It Almost Awakened the Dog" by John McCutcheon in Chicago Tribune, Sept. 4, 1920

Since it is Labor Day weekend, let's close today's entry off with an election year labor cartoon from the summer of 1920.

"Labor's Laboratory" by Wallen for Labor Feature Service, August, 1920

Keep the Labor in Labor Day, and have a safe and happy weekend!