Traffic Report

Detail from "Smitty" by Walter Berndt, distributed by Chicago Tribune July, 19, 1925

It's time to buckle your seat belts, because today's Graphical History Tour destination is July, 1925. Let's hit the road, shall we?

"Right of Might" by Winsor McCay in New York Herald Tribune, ca. July 18, 1925

The automobile had gone from novelty to everyday life in the space of a single generation, wresting  roadway dominance from horses and pedestrians. Once upon a time, if a pedestrian's destination were directly across the street, one crossed then and there. Children played in rural roadways and city streets. Horses, unless they were at full gallop, easily went around them.

Carriages, horsed and horseless, couldn't maneuver quite so easily. With the ubiquity of the automobile came a nationwide push for laws against what was now called "jay walking": crossing the street anywhere other than at a controlled intersection.

"Will It Come to This" by Orville P. Williams in New York American, July 14, 1925

Nor were the new regulations of pedestrian traffic a strictly American feature:

"Ein Zukunftsbild" by Arthur Johnson in Kladderadatsch, Berlin, July 12, 1925

Besides pedestrians, cross-country motorists had to contend with a patchwork of local roadway systems. U.S. numbered highways did not yet exist. Anyone with the time and sufficient buckets of paint could mark "auto trails" on power poles and name them whatever they wanted. Some, like the Lincoln Trail and Dixie Highway, actually crossed country; others were local, like the Three C Highway, which connected Cleveland to Cincinnati. A transcontinental highway might follow an old wagon trail, such as the Oregon Trail route, or a railroad, as the Union Pacific Highway for example.

Upkeep of the auto trails was largely up to the localities they passed through. A trail set up by some entrepreneur hoping to lure travelers to his tourist trap, on the other hand, might turn out to be a deeply rutted dirt road taking you through creeks instead of over them.

"Let's Build These Highways" by Orville P. Williams in New York American, ca. July 30, 1925

In 1925, the Joint Board on Interstate Highways, in cooperation with the American Association of State Highway Officials (founded in 1914), began work on creating a national numbering system for what would become U.S. Highways. Implementation of their project began within two years.

"Another Badly Needed Road" by Winsor McCay, ca. July 21, 1925

The super highways envisioned by Orville Williams on behalf of eager motorists would still be several years in the future. In the meantime, Winsor McCay offered another recommendation of a needed road. (Note the hat impaled on this guy's fender.) 

"Read Them And Weep" by Denis McCarthy, ca. July 12, 1925

Driving the point home, Denis McCarthy drew a cemetery shared by reckless drivers and careless pedestrians.

(When I last posted cartoons by Denis McCarthy, he seemed to have begun working at the Fort Worth Record after leaving the New Orleans Times Picayune; but his work wasn't appearing in either newspaper by the summer of 1925. I find his cartoons in newspapers that also ran the work of Hearst cartoonists, so I surmise he may have joined Hearst's syndicate.)

"Out Where the Worst Begins" by Tom Foley in Minneapolis Star, July 3, 1925

On the more automobile-friendly side, Tom Foley observes that roads do not remain in pristine condition very long, which is especially true in the land of ice and snow. Why Minnetonka Boulevard had more or deeper potholes than, say, Hennepin Avenue or Lake Street I don't know; perhaps it just happened to be the route Foley took to and from work every day.

"First Impressions Are Lasting" by Arthur G. Racey in Montreal Daily Star, July 28, 1925

Old-fashioned cobblestone streets, while picturesque, are not very automobile-friendly. (I doubt that they got along all that well with horses, either.) Say what you will about them, however, they were probably more effective at depressing traffic than stop signs on every block, roundabouts, or those "Your Speed" monitors, which explains why speed bumps are becoming so popular with urban planners these days.

"Sing Ho, for the Wide Open Spaces" by Denis McCarthy, ca. July 19, 1925

If pedestrians were confounded by ordinances telling them how to cross a street, Denis McCarthy spared some sympathy for motorists baffled by restrictions on how and where to park their car.

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I can't leave today's topic without first checking what was going on in the quintessential autophile newspaper cartoon, "Gasoline Alley" 100 years ago today:

"Gasoline Alley" by Frank King in Chicago Tribune, July 26, 1925

Alas, the gang wasn't gathered around their cars that particular Sunday. Instead, Walt Willet was wandering the great wide open spaces with his foundling son, Skeezix, on foot.

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P.S.: Yes, I know that seat belts were not a thing until 1959.

Knocking Out 1924

Welcome aboard today's Graphical History Tour! You’re just in time to bid a fond farewell to the year 1924.

"Knock Out" by Arthur Johnson in Kladderadatsch, Berlin, Dec. 28, 1924

Some farewells to Old Man ’24 were fonder than others. Arthur Johnson, for one, was quite happy to see the old year go. German economic, domestic, and foreign affairs had actually begun to look up in 1924, but you couldn't convince Michel Q. Bürger of that any more than you could argue the same to today's electorates.

Instead of replacing it with a larger font, I've kept the caption to Johnson's year-end cartoon just as it originally appeared on the cover of Kladderadatsch. At the time, captions in German were always printed in Fraktur style font; foreign words, in this case "Knock Out" being borrowed from English, were printed in a Roman style font.

“Neujahr in Paris” by Hans-Maria Lindloff in Kladderadatsch, Berlin, Dec. 28, 1924

RHans-Maria Lindloff twits Mme. Marianne over French authorities' arrest of 60 Communists in Paris in December. The existence of French communists shouldn't have come as a surprise to anybody, really. Every country in Europe had its own cadre of reds loyal to the Commintern — Germany, birthplace of Marx and Engels, included.

Besides, the U.S. had shipped hundreds of American communists to Russia after the Great War, few of whom spoke any Russian. Surely some of them would have drifted westward to more fashionable and temperate cities by 1924.

"I Guess I'll Call It a Day" by James Donahey in Cleveland Plain Dealer, Dec. 31, 1924

On this side of the Atlantic, Republican-leaning Hal Donahey was fairly satisfied with the events of 1924. Father Time's ledger for the year included a recently completed round-the-world airplane flight by an American crew, the transatlantic flight of the ZR-3 Zeppelin, "better business confidence," the election of Calvin Coolidge as the 30th President of the U.S., and a "greater desire for world peace." Meanwhile, "LaFollette movement" lies in the waste bin of history.

"A Review of 1924" by Charles H. "Bill" Sykes in Life, New York, Dec. 25, 1924

Bill Sykes's two-page summary of the year for Life magazine covered just about every major news story of the year except for the murder of 14-year-old Bobby Franks by Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb (the "Crime of the Century," and the basis for Hitchcock's "Rope").

Sykes added to Donahey's list the death of Woodrow Wilson, the conclusion of the Teapot Dome investigation, the Dawes Plan for Germany's reparation payments to the Entente allies, the two U.S. major party national conventions, a civil war in China, rising prices of wheat and corn, a visit to the U.S. by heir to the British throne Prince Edward, British suppression of a revolt against England in Egypt, a U.S. income tax cut, and rapprochement between Soviet Russia and France. 

And in the center of the second page, Sykes noted that the "prosperity" spoken of by Republicans had yet to fill the stockings of "Everybody."

Having now covered all the news that was fit to sketch, let's turn to the funny papers.

"Polly and Her Pals" by Cliff Sterrett for Newspaper Feature Service Inc., Dec. 31, 1924

Prohibition was now in its fifth year, so some folks such as Polly and her pals, who might have longed for the days when one rang in the new year with a glass of bubbly, made do with alternative libations instead. 

"Andy Gump" by Sidney Smith for Chicago Tribune Co., Dec. 31, 1924

If Polly's Pals had to make do with hypnotic suggestion for their holiday merriment, Andy Gump was able to partake of the real sauce.

The hooch came from his wife's Uncle Bim, the mustachioed fellow at the table, who had saved a carton of spirits since 1912. In spite of having vowed to himself to remain "as dry as the Congressional Record," Andy put on quite a show for the New Year's Eve party he arranged. He would renew his broken vow the following morning.

"That Guiltiest Feeling" by Clare Briggs for New York Tribune, Dec. 31, 1924 

As for the law-abiding citizens eschewing the devil's brew, you may be wondering how they passed the time without it. I've run across several cartoons toward the end of 1924 remarking on the brand new crossword puzzle craze sweeping the nation (you might remember John Knott's from my Thanksgiving weekend post). Clare Briggs seems not to think highly of the puzzles.

"The New Year Puzzle" by Oscar C. Chopin in San Francisco Examiner, Dec. 31, 1924

Here's a typical crossword puzzle reference from the editorial page. I don't think Oscar Chopin quite grasped how crossing words actually works.

"What's the Trouble Here" by Harrison Cady in Life magazine, Dec. 25, 1924

This Life magazine cartoon doesn't have anything to do with the old or new year, but perhaps it explains Mr. Briggs's beef with crossword puzzles.

It's a good thing he wasn't around to witness Sudoko and Wordle.

"Toots and Casper" by Jimmie Murphy for King Features Syndicate, Dec. 31, 1924

Returning to the comics page: if boozing it up wasn't an option for everyone on New Year's Eve, an enthusiastic tradition of noise-making was certainly available. You can make out a few noisemakers at Toot's party; banging on pots and pans was an option almost anyone could afford.

Just stay clear of Mother's favorite cast iron skillet, if you know what's good for you.

"Keeping Up with the Joneses" by Arthur "Pop" Momand for New York Herald, Dec. 31, 1924

I had not been familiar with the work of Arthur Ragland Momand (1887-1987), or with the practice of taking one's New Year resolutions to one's lawyer.

Following through on Al McGinis's annual resolution could have resulted in a breach of contract with his creator, the premise of Momand's entire strip being his efforts to keep up with the Jones family. "Keeping Up with the Joneses" ran from 1913 to 1938, so I'll have to find out how the Joneses and McGinises kept up during the Great Depression.

Here's a strip you're more likely to remember:

"Little Orphan Annie" by Harold Gray for Chicago Tribune, Dec. 31, 1924

Harold Gray paused Little Orphan Annie's story to recap the year — perhaps as a favor to any newspapers taking the day off or picking up the strip anew. The day's installment serves as a reminder that there was a Mrs. Daddy Warbucks.

"Little Orphan Annie" debuted on August 5, 1924; and yes, it was Mrs. Warbucks who first brought Annie home from the orphanage — but with no intention of letting her stay at the Warbucks estate. Mrs. Warbucks sent Annie back to the orphanage or simply kicked her out onto the street several times in the early years of the strip, only to have her husband retrieve or rescue the girl after returning from his frequent business trips.

"Gasoline Alley" by Frank King for Chicago Tribune, Dec. 31, 1924

"Little Orphan Alley" wrapped up its 86-year run in 2010; but "Gasoline Alley" is still with us, as is 130-something-year-old Walt Wallet, heading his five-generation family. Its present cartoonist, Jim Scancarelli, gave fans a start earlier this year when he introduced a plot line that seemed to portend the end of the strip. It turned out instead that politicians at city hall within the strip planned to update the name of Gasoline Alley, and the extended Wallet clan banded together to stop the change.

At the end of 1924, Walt was the single father of a three-year-old who had been abandoned on his doorstep, so I don't know whether he had been invited to Mr. Wicker's New Year's Eve party. Little Skeezix had a nursemaid, Rachel Brown, a Black woman who presumably had no personal life outside of the Wallet household; thus I assume Walt would have been free to go ring in the new year with the boys.

Or perhaps he was overjoyed to stay home with the boy.

After all, he had already taken him to another party in Sunday's comic.

"'Cap' Stubbs" by Edwina Dunn for George Matthew Adams Service, Dec. 31, 1924

"Cap" Stubbs and his buddies joined in the noisemaking in Edwina Dunn's strip. Do you think Grandma actually let him run loose on the streets at midnight?

I'll close out our farewell to 1924 with Winsor McCay's final Sunday episode for the year of Little Nemo in Slumberland — with my apologies that I can't present it to you in the size Mr. McCay intended for it, or in color. I invite you to embiggen these as your device will allow, and imagine the colors as best you can.

"Little Nemo in Slumberland" by Winsor McCay for New York Tribune, Dec. 28, 1924

Address Change for the Wallets

At the end of my Valentines Day post a couple Saturdays ago, I included the February 14, 1924 installment of Frank King's "Gasoline Alley." I'm not aware of any newspapers, including its parent paper, the Chicago Tribune, that run "Gasoline Alley" in print, but I remarked that it's still available on line at GoComics.com.

In the weeks since then, its current cartoonist, Jim Scancarelli, has been teasing some Big News in the strip. The characters have been excitedly asking each other whether they have heard the news, and every one of them seems fairly upset about it. The dramatic tone led many readers in the comments section to wonder if Scancarelli were planning to bring the 106-year-old cartoon — described by Pierre Couperie and Maurice Horn as "the first Bildungsroman in pictures" — to an end.

Today's installment reveals that the Alley's fate is probably not quite as dire as that:

Will it be "The Wallets"?

"The Rectangle"?

"Das Bildungsroman in Pictures"?

"Electric Plug-in Court"?

Happy Valentoons Day

Our Graphical History Tour has been wrapped up in scandal and death lately, so it's time to lighten up a little bit. Let's check out what love notes the cartoonists had in store for their readers on Valentine's Day 100 years ago, when my grandparents were newlyweds!

"St. Valentine's Day" by A.G. Racey in Montreal Gazette, Feb. 14, 1924

And fortunately for me, they all abstained from the jakeloo new divorce craze sweeping their generation.

"To Our Valentines" by Rube Goldberg for McNaught Syndicate, Feb. 14, 1924

I don't know what 1920's-ese is for "snark," but Rube Goldberg has plenty of it in his Valentine. It is, however, a wonderful study in fashion styles of the time.

I tried looking up the phrase "the alligator's vest," coming up mostly with advertisements for actual alligator-skin vests, and a zillion posts of the following Dad Joke:

Q. What do you call an alligator in a vest?
A. An investigator!

Let us now get back to the topic at hand. Quickly.

"A Few Valentines We'd Like to Deliver" by Dorman H. Smith for Newspaper Enterprise Assn., Feb. 14, 1924

Good gosh, such violence! Smith's was not the only "Outbursts of Everett True" sort of Valentines Day cartoon I came across while gathering today's assortment. What on earth had these cartoonists so cranky? Was this really what Valentines Day was all about in the heart of the Roaring '20's?

"The Leap Year Valentine" by Charles H. Kuhn in Indianapolis News, Feb. 14, 1924

American editorial cartoonists must have used up their Sadie Hawkins ideas earlier in the year (see John McCutcheon's and Sam Armstrong's cartoons back in January); Chas. Kuhn's valentine for Mr. Voter from Miss Presidential Year Politics is the sole example I ran across published on February 14 that year.

"Those Coolidge Valentines" by Carey Orr in Chicago Tribune, Feb. 14, 1924

Carey Orr crams a front-page's worth of headline news into his Valentine's Day offering, from Teapot Dome and tax cuts and federal farm aid to dunning European nations in debt to the U.S.

"A Valentine" by Thomas E. Powers for Star Company, Feb. 14, 1924

But enough of politics! Valentine's Day is a day for l'amour (And a famous massacre, but not for a few years yet.)

"Somebody's Valentine" by Magnus Kettner for Western Newspaper Union, Feb. 14, 1924

Leaving politics, scandals, vamps, and divorces behind, many of the Valentines Day cartoons in 1924 celebrated the early pangs of love experienced by pre-teen lotharios. We lead off with the most straight-forward of the bunch, by Magnus Kettner, a well-established cartoonist who supplied his syndicate's mostly rural papers with a choice of political cartoons and homey, nostalgic stuff as this. 

By the way, how strange that Kettner didn't finish drawing the house in the background — only the overhang continues to the right of that tree!

"A St. Valentine's Day We'll Never Forget" by Bob Satterfield for Bonnet Brown Syndicate, Feb. 14, 1924

Bob Satterfield's work used to appear regularly in these century retrospectives when he drew editorial cartoons; but 1924, he was focusing instead on gag cartoons and strips. The above cartoon was part of his "Days We'll Never Forget" series for Bonnet Brown Syndicate. Before long, he dropped the panel in favor of a strip, "The Family Next Door," which lasted less than two years. 

Bonnet Brown Syndicate would be a casualty of the Great Depression, going bankrupt and out of business in 1933.

"Life's Darkest Moment" by Harold T. Webster for New York Tribune Syndicate, Feb. 14, 1924

H.T. Webster was considerably more successful with (and dedicated to) his series of panel cartoons, which regularly cycled the themes "Life's Darkest Moment," "The Thrill That Comes Once in a Lifetime," "How to Torture Your Wife/Husband," and "The Timid Soul." For that last one, he created the character Caspar Milquetoast, who was spun off into a very early television series and whose surname entered the English vernacular.

"Gee Whiz Junior" by William Holman for New York Tribune Syndicate, Feb. 14, 1924

Here's something that has been missing from the last several cartoons: the object of Gee Whiz Jr.'s affection actually has a name!

"Gee Whiz Junior" was one of Bill Holman's many short-lived attempts at creating a comic strip before he eventually hit the big time with Smokey Stover (1935-1972). You young whippersnappers may never have heard of Smokey Stover, but some of you might appreciate that he was the OG Foo Fighter.

I did want to make sure to include the woman's point of view today. Failing to find Valentines Day cartoons by Fay King or Juanita Hamel, here's a woman's point of view of a little boy's point of view:

"'Cap' Stubbs" by Edwina Dumm for George Matthew Adams Service, Feb. 14, 1924

Sticking with the women but returning to the adults' table, Nell Brinkley ends up more interested in expressing some fella's viewpoint than a woman's:

"His Saint Valentine" by Nell Brinkley for International Feature Syndicate, Feb. 14, 1924

"Saint Valentine was a gentleman," Brinkley begins, "a venerable man, in those gone days when bright St. Valentine's Day used to be taken so seriously that men did battle under their loves' windows... But Bill's Saint of Valentine's Day is a girl. ...

"'I don't believe in men-angels, anyway,' says Bill, as he ties to his offering of dark, fragrant, purple violets, his name with his love and his hope. 'Angels are girls. I know my Saint Valentine is a girl — all girl.'"

"Pop" by Gaar Williams in Chicago Tribune, Feb. 14, 1924

And just like that, we're back to the menfolk. Perhaps this anxious fellow in Gaar Williams's cartoon explains why some of the cartoonists at the top of today's post were in such a foul mood over the holiday.

"Gasoline Alley" by Frank King for Chicago Tribune Syndicate, Feb. 14, 1924

Finally, of special note to classic cartoon fans, Valentines Day 1921 was the day that infant Skeezix was left on Walt Wallet's doorstep, creating a family saga out of a strip that up to then had been entirely devoted to men and their jalopies. Over the years, Skeezix grew up, married, and had children and grandchildren of his own.

Because of the forced homogenization of newspaper comic pages by Gannett, McClatchy, Lee, and the other (aptly named) chains, you probably can't find "Gasoline Alley" in your local newspaper — even the Chicago Tribune doesn't run it any more — but 103-year-old Skeezix and 130-ish Walt are still out there on line.

The Distracted Boyfriend Meme

Cartoonist Kevin Huizenga recently credited the "distracted boyfriend" meme — you know the one: a young man turns around to admire a shapely young woman in the foreground who has just walked past him and his none-too-pleased girlfriend — to Frank King, who included just such a situation in his "The Rectangle" feature in the Chicago Tribune on Sunday, April 2, 1916.

Here's another, from 1921, by St. Joseph News-Press editorial cartoonist William Hanny:

"You Just Can't Help It, That's All" by William Hanny in St. Joseph (MO) News Press, Oct. 7, 1921

Now, granted, this cartoon comes five years after King's; but it's the sole focus of the cartoon, whereas King's distracted boyfriend is just one vignette among many. King drew a bird's-eye view of an entire neighborhood, taking up the top half of a page of a broadsheet newspaper, back when broadsheets were printed on broad sheets.

Furthermore, as the caption for Hanny's cartoon makes clear, distracted boyfriends were familiar and relatable enough. I wouldn't be surprised if there weren't some even older versions of this gag to be found. 

Gasoline Alley Brakes Loose

Last Saturday, I took note that 100 years ago, Frank King's "Gasoline Alley" had just broken free of his "The Rectangle" feature in the Chicago Tribune. Today, let's celebrate the Alley's independence a little more purposefully.

"The Rectangle" by Frank O. King in Chicago Sunday Tribune, November 24, 1918

When "Gasoline Alley" first appeared on November 24, 1918, it was below the fold of the full-page feature, one panel among several recurring features. It showed up every week after that, along with "Is This Your Pet Peeve," "Our Movie," "Rubber Stamps," and riffs on whatever was the big news story that week. Eventually it migrated to the top of the page by the following summer, as well as expanding into multi-panel format on Sundays and appearing as a single, stand-alone panel on weekdays.

"The Rectangle's Gasoline Alley Calendar for 1919" by Frank O. King in Chicago Sunday Tribune, December 28, 1919

"Gasoline Alley" revolved around a bunch of male friends and their obsession with their automobiles, tinkering with the engines, sharing tips on vehicle maintenance, and occasionally even getting out on the road. Some of the guys had families or girlfriends, although King left the ladies' characters rather undeveloped. Walt and Skeezix (Jeet Heer, Chris Oliveros and Chris Ware eds., Drawn and Quarterly Books, Montreal) notes occasions when King mixed up the names of the supporting actresses in his cast.

"The Rectangle" by Frank O. King in Chicago Sunday Tribune, February 8, 1920

Above is the last "The Rectangle," on the front page of the Chicago Sunday Tribune's editorial section on February 8, 1920. Its episode of "Gasoline Alley" features regular characters Avery, his son Elmer, and bachelor Walt Wallet.

The following Sunday, the Tribune editorial section disappeared, reduced to a single page in the front section of the paper. So too disappeared "The Rectangle," and I can't find any cartoon by King in that day's edition. (By this time, he had turned over his Sunday color comic "Bobby Make-Believe" to other artists only to see it put to pasture within months.)

"If We Couldn't Tell a Lie" by "P.L." (?) in Chicago Sunday Tribune, February 15, 1920

The "Motordom" pages where "Gasoline Alley" would soon settle offered only one comic on February 15, a single-column piece of filler titled "If We Couldn't Tell a Lie." There would be several episodes of "If We Couldn't Tell a Lie" throughout any given edition of the paper; its focus not strictly about automobiles but may have been drawn to fit in with whatever page it happened to be on. I don't see a signature on this particular cartoon, but other installments were initialed "P.L."

"Gasoline Alley" by Frank King in Chicago Sunday Tribune, February 22, 1920

"Gasoline Alley" returned to the Sunday Tribune on Feb 22, with this panel appearing at the top of page 17 of section 7. This is one of King's less wordy single-panel cartoons, which might typically consist of several of the guys around the open hood of a car or watching one drive away, discussing what might be wrong with it or its owner.

"Gasoline Alley" by Frank King in Chicago Sunday Tribune, February 29, 1920

Starting on February 29, "Gasoline Alley" showed up regularly as a comic strip across the top of the first of the "Motordom" pages (usually in the middle of section 7). Avery is the central character of these Sunday strips. Walt, who would become the paterfamilias of the strip as it continues to this day, figures more prominently in the daily panel, and not just because he stood a head taller than the other denizens of the alley. (A feat not easily achieved in the cramped real estate of today's comic strips!)

"Gasoline Alley" by Frank King in Chicago Sunday Tribune, March 7, 1920

It would be another year before the foundling Skeeziks was left on Walt's doorstep, but you can see already that "Gasoline Alley" was gravitating toward being a family-centered comic strip. The March 7 episode touches only briefly and peripherally on matters automotive, and the March 14 installment has nothing to do with cars beyond having the rear bumper of one in panels three and four.

"Gasoline Alley" by Frank King in Chicago Sunday Tribune, March 14, 1920

I can imagine some editor at the Tribune asking King, "Remind me why we have you at the top of the top of the Motordom page again...?"

"Gasoline Alley" by Frank King in Chicago Sunday Tribune, March 21, 1920