Thanksgiving Leftovers Again?!

I still think I had probably posted last week's Thanksgiving leftovers some years ago, so here are some old Thanksgiving editorial cartoons from 1921. I know I've never rewarmed these before.

"His First Thanksgiving Away from Home" by J.N. "Ding" Darling in New York Tribune, Nov. 24, 1921

Nearly all of the political cartoons that Thanksgiving Day were about the arms limitation talks then underway in Washington, D.C. Of chief concern was the three-way naval arms race underway among the U.S., Great Britain, and Japan.

"All the Fixin's for a Real Thanksgiving" by Herbert Johnson in North American, Philadelphia PA, ca. Nov. 24, 1921

Republican stalwart Herbert Johnson was quick to give credit to the GOP administration and Congress not only for Secretary of State Charles Evans Hughes's proposal to freeze warship building for ten years, but also for yet-to-be-seen tax cuts and economic prosperity.

"All for World Peace" by John Cassel in New York World, Nov. 23, 1921

Democratic-leaning John Cassel also lauded the disarmament conference, but reminded his readers that former President Woodrow Wilson's idealism had produced the League of Nations, with the promise that future wars could be averted there.

That promise of peace would not outlast the promise of prosperity by all that much.

"The Proof of the Dinner, Etc." by Nelson Harding in Brooklyn Daily Eagle, Nov. 23, 1921

The Hungry World, like "Ding" Darling's diners, looked forward to its Thanksgiving feast; yet Nelson Harding left open the possibility that the dinner might not live up to the menu.

"I'm Bubbling Over..." by Clifford Berryman in Washington (DC) Evening Star, Nov. 23, 1921

The holiday produced lots and lots of turkey jokes, as it does every year.

"The Idea of World Disarmament Is a Beautiful Thing..." by Wm. Morris for George Matthew Adams Service, ca. Nov. 24, 1921

The disarmament talks hit a snag just before Thanksgiving, which might explain a tiny bit of skepticism in the cartoons of Harding, Berryman, and Morris.

"The Barnyard Delegates..." possibly by Elmer Bushnell for Newspaper Enterprise Assn., ca.Nov. 24, 1921

I could not find a copy of this cartoon with the cartoonist's signature; I'm guessing that it might be Elmer Bushnell largely because the original caption (which I have replaced to make it more legible) was in the font and box style that I've seen over many of his cartoons. The heavy border also suggests Mr. Bushnell to me.

"The First Move to Curb Excessive Immigration" by G. Burr Inwood in Life magazine, Nov. 24, 1921

Aside from family dinners and turkeys, the other leitmotif in Thanksgiving cartoons is of Indians and Pilgrims. Here G.B. Inwood gets all sorts of ethnic details wrong, but it does show that the cartoon idea of Native Americans Against Immigration is older than you probably thought.

"Thanksgiving 1621 and 1921" by unknown cartoonist, ca. Nov. 24, 1921

I was hoping to find this cartoon in a newspaper that did not crop out the cartoonist's signature; but other than in the Miami (OK) Record-Herald of November 25, I have only found it in two New York newspapers, one of which also cropped out the signature and the other in which it is completely illegible. 

The cartoon's depiction of Native Americans is only slightly less fanciful than Inwood's. To my 2021 sensibilities, it seems to mark the 300th anniversary of Thanksgiving by giving thanks that Uncle Sam no longer needs to worry about hostile Injuns lurking behind trees. Given Oklahoma had been created from what was officially "Indian Territory" only fourteen years before this cartoon appeared, its thankfulness strikes me as being at the very least, smug. And at worst, racist. 

Most certainly, confident that no Native Americans subscribed to the Miami Record-Herald.

"The End of a Perfect Day" by Magnus Kettner, for Western Newspaper Union, ca. Nov. 23, 1921

Let us, however, turn to the non-political cartoonists end on a lighter note. Magnus Kettner trafficked in the quaint and gentle — most of the time — as in his "The End of a Perfect Day" series. Kettner's Thanksgiving proved to be a perfect day for Fido; not so much for Tom Turkey.

"Naturally You Feel Terrible" by Alfred "Zere" Ablitzere in New York Evening Post, Nov. 23, 1921

For the meleagrically sympathetic, Alfred Ablitzere's cartoon offers a happier ending.

Finally, I had expected to find many daily comic strips celebrating Thanksgiving 1921, but most strips' gags were no different than any other day of the year. A marked exception was "Doings of the Duffs," a family cartoon that paid attention to current events. (For example, the older son in the family, Wilbur, joined the Army during the Great War, although he didn't see much action.)

On Thanksgiving Day 1921, The Duff family were sucked through a hole in the space-time continuum and emerged three centuries earlier.

"Doings of the Duffs" by Walter R. Allman for NEA, Nov. 24, 1921

But only for one day.

Happy Hanukkah!

Saturday Pot Pourri

I'm keeping this week's Saturday History Tour short and sweet and in search of any unifying theme today, so let's just get started.

Last week, I happened to see celebrity news about some actor or musician or social influencer or whoever he was posting photos of himself and his son because it was Father And Son Day. I had never heard of the celebrity or the Day before, so naturally, I looked up Father And Son Day. 

It turns out that Father And Son Day was founded seven years ago by cancer survivors Jack Dyson and Daniel Marks to raise awareness of and funds for cancer research. I'm still a little confused about when the day is, but it certainly seems that it's for a worthy cause.

"Father and Son Week" by Dorman H. Smith for Newspaper Enterprise Assn., by Nov. 4, 1921

So imagine my surprise a day or so later to run across this 100-year-old cartoon about Father And Son Week!

Whenever this year's F&S Day might have been, Dorman Smith's F&S Week was definitely in the fall (note the tree). So, really, you can celebrate it whenever you want and for a day or a week or a fortnight if you want. Heck, celebrate it throughout Daylight Savings Time.

Nobody's going to argue with you about it.

And wasn't it nice to start out today's post with something nobody needs to argue about for a change?

"The Storm Centers" by Magnus Kettner for Western Newspaper Union, by Nov. 11, 1921

On the other hand, Magnus Kettner presents us with a cartoon that I find deceptively sweet, hiding an inner core of rural antipathy toward their urban compatriots — a hostility that has festered into today's Red-Blue divide.

Not that there was anything new about that in 1921; you can trace the attitude all the way back to Aesop's city mouse and country mouse.

But I have one more bone to pick with Mr. Kettner: one of the major news stories of November, 1921 was a big strike by coal miners, few of whom lived in "the city." You just don't find many coal miners living in New York City, Philadelphia, or Chicago, but rather in small towns like Hazard, Kentucky; Welch, West Virginia; or Diamondville, Wyoming.

"Pruning the Wrong End" by John Baer, by Nov. 2, 1921

Cartoonist and former Congressman John Baer was part of a self-named Nonpartisan movement that attempted to forge links between rural farmers and urban and small-town laborers. The 1920's would be tough on the Nonpartisan movement, and its non-partisan angle slowly closed. Labor interests became increasingly aligned with the Democratic Party, and farmers have, a century later, become a reliably Republican voting bloc.

If there's nothing new about ginning up animus between country and city mice, there's nothing new about the top 1% pitting the bottom 99% against each other's interests, either.

"Slow, But So Is Congress" by Art Young, by Nov. 3, 1921

You know what else is not new? It's Joe Manchins and Kyrsten Sinemas blocking popular legislation because all they see is the price tag. 

If you asked the average man or woman on the street or in the field in 1921, you would have found overwhelming support for the idea that the United States owed a debt to its Great War veterans who lost health or limb making the world safe for democracy. Art Young here wonderfully satirizes how long it was taking for legislation to give these veterans "bonus" payments to get anywhere, even given that the Republican Party had control of the White House and both houses of Congress.

Lastly, this Veterans' Day marks the 100th anniversary of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in Arlington, Virginia receiving its first occupant; so, without further comment, I close with a few examples of the nation's editorial cartoonists marking the event.

"Armistice Day" by Leo Bushnell for Central Press Assn., by Nov. 11, 1921

by Clifford Berryman in Washington DC Evening Star, Nov. 11, 1921

"The Unknown Mother" by John Cassell in New York Evening World, Nov. 11, 1921

"Lord God of Hosts..." by Cleon Larson, "a Salt Lake school boy," in Deseret News, Nov. 11, 1921

"My Boy" by Charles Dana Gibson in Life Magazine, Nov. 10, 1921

Kill Bill, Part 2

"A Great Nation Prostrate" by Canfield in Pittsburg [sic] Press, September 14, 1901

You were probably expecting something commemorating the 20th anniversary of 9/11 today; but I haven't drawn any new cartoons about it since the last time I marked its anniversary. And besides, I started commemorating the 120th anniversary of the assassination of President William McKinley last Saturday, and I wasn't finished yet.

So anyway, doctors were able to remove one of the two bullets in the president's body, and within a week after the shooting, they were optimistic for his recovery. They also felt that rummaging around for the second bullet was riskier than leaving it in. But on September 14, 1901, President McKinley succumbed to infection around that second bullet.

"William McKinley" by Wm. C. Rogers in Harper's Weekly, September 21, 1901

By chance, a new X-ray machine had been on display at the Pan-American Exposition where McKinley was shot, and would have been able to show the president's doctors where the bullet was. But the opportunity, and the president, were lost to history.

"In This Day of Mourning..." by Carter Simons in Brooklyn Daily Eagle, September 14, 1901 

There were a lot of mourning Columbia cartoons, rather than the weeping Uncle Sams that would flood editorial pages 100 years later. Columbia predated Uncle Sam as the personification of the U.S. by over 100 years; she flourished as a cartoon character in the 18th and 19th Centuries. But by World War II, if a cartoonist wanted to depict the U.S. as a woman, he or she was more likely to draw the Statue of Liberty.

I've come across a couple of cartoons that are more interesting than all those mourning Columbias:

Felix Mahony in Washington (DC) Evening Star, September 14, 1901

Felix Mahony's sketchbook illustration highlights the story of James "Big Ben" Parker, a Black American in the presidential receiving line immediately behind the assassin Czolgosz. According to a Secret Service agent present, "Parker struck the assassin in the neck with one hand and with the other reached for the revolver which had been discharged through the handkerchief and the shots had set fire to the linen. While on the floor Czolgosz again tried to discharge the revolver but before he got to the president the Negro knocked it from his hand."

There is a poem by Lena Doolin Mason extolling Parker's deeds that day.

"It Is God's Way" by Canfield in Pittsburg Press, September 18, 1901

The sangfroid of Canfield's cartoon of Father Pitt, drawn as the train carrying McKinley's body passed through Pittsburgh, would probably get any cartoonist into a heap of trouble today. The president is dead? Oh, well. Que será será.

But I can see certain right-wing cartoonists who might to get away with it these days.

"What, Wouldst Thou Have a Serpent Sting Thee Twice" by Wm. Walker in Life, September 26, 1901

Aside from grief-stricken Lady Columbias, there was another theme that ran through a lot of editorial cartoons after Leon Czolgosz shot President McKinley.

"Now, Uncle, Come Down Hard" by Canfield in Pittsburg Press, September 8, 1901

It's as if some memo came down from Cartoon Headquarters telling the nation's scribblers that everyone had to represent anarchists and anarchism as snakes. This presented Pittsburgh's Canfield with the dilemma of how to depict a snake holding a gun and a bomb.

He evidently decided, what the hell, I'll draw it with ears, too.

Felix Mahony in Washington (DC) Evening Star, September 9, 1901

Felix Mahony was content that a snake is threatening enough without adding limbs and ears. But you don't want to try to kill a snake by stomping on its middle.

"While I'm About It..." by Gennette in Brooklyn Daily Eagle, September 15, 1901

Gennette adds in a few more vipers for Uncle Sam to bludgeon, notably including "lynchings" and "burnings at the stake." The cartoon is more aspirational on Gennette's part than factual on Uncle Sam's part; the ensuing crackdown on anarchists was not accompanied by much civil rights legislation. As President Theodore Roosevelt put it, "When compared with the suppression of anarchy, every other question sinks into insignificance."

"No Room on This Ship" by Wm. A. Rogers in Harper's Weekly, October 5, 1901

Czolgosz was quickly brought to trial, and readily admitted murdering the President. He told authorities that he had been inspired by the speeches of anarchist Emma Goldman; but as it turns out, he had never been able to ingratiate himself into her inner circle. He had been the sort of guy who is too eager, and asks too many questions. Some of her associates were convinced that he must be a government spy.

"A Proper Concert of the Powers" by Wm. Walker in Life, October 3, 1901

Most anarchists disavowed Czolgosz, but for her part, Goldman refused to condemn what he had done. She instead characterized him as a "supersensitive being" and likened him to Julius Caesar's assassin Marcus Brutus.

Czolgosz tried to plead guilty at his trial, which began on September 23, but was overruled by presiding Judge Truman White. His jury deliberated for less than 30 minutes before returning guilty verdicts the very next day.  

"Wasn't You Present at the Execution?" by Rowland C. Bowman in Minneapolis Tribune, October, 1901

On October 29, Czolgosz was electrocuted to death at Auburn State Prison. In order to prevent any macabre Czolgosz memorabilia getting out, prison officials burned his clothes and other possessions, and doused his corpse with acid before burying him on the prison grounds.

The Temple of Music where McKinley was shot, and the rest of the Exposition buildings, were razed that November. That wasn't entirely in order to erase unpleasant memories of the assassination; the Exposition buildings were never intended to be permanent structures.

But unlike with John Wilkes Booth, Lee Harvey Oswald, or Sirhan Sirhan, (or, for that matter, Osama bin Laden,) the Spirit of Notoriety has kept its distance from Leon Czolgosz. Unless you've seen Assassins, chances are you don't even know how to pronounce his name.

This Week's Toon: Remembering Elizabeth Taylor

The two principal decisions in drawing this week’s cartoon were selecting a quotation and deciding what sort of image to use. Since I draw for LGBT publications, I had at first thought I would use something Elizabeth Taylor had said about AIDS, or that someone had said about her longstanding commitment to raising funds to help find a cure, but none that I found really fit with a eulogy cartoon. The quotation I did use, however, struck me as more interesting than anything I'd seen on the topic I'd originally had in mind.

Several other cartoonists have already drawn cartoons of her famously violet eyes alone, so I didn’t want to repeat that approach. She didn’t have a famous profile or distinctive pose, either, which nixed drawing her silhouette as a second easy shortcut.

I’m not entirely pleased with how this sketch of Elizabeth Taylor came out. Maybe the rouge on her right cheek comes over too far, or her hair should cover her eyes more, and there’s something just not right about the mouth. But then, I’ve seen a lot of cartoons that just don’t capture her, which might have something to do with the longevity and variety of her career. The star of "National Velvet" does not look like the cameo guest appearance on "All My Children."

Googling “Elizabeth Taylor,” I found a lot of the same pictures over and over. A lot of pictures of Taylor when she was very young, and a lot of pictures from the ’90's and ’00's. In the earlier photos and drawings, her mouth is small, usually in a pout, as was typical of publicity shots of actresses in that era. Her mouth appears wider in the later pictures, though, and her jaw stronger.

What I wanted to work from were pictures from her career as I became aware of it in the ’60's and ’70's – the face I remember best. I can’t be entirely certain, but I think the first film of hers that I saw was probably “The Taming of the Shrew.” And then there was the face I’ve seen most often: the gauzy woman in those TV ads for White Diamonds perfume that have been aired every Christmas season for the last 30 years.

I have a box of old Look and Life magazines in the basement, so I went through them in hopes of finding any photos of Ms. Taylor that would be appropriate to the quotation I had decided to use. I found no pictures of her at all, but I did find in the January 15, 1965 issue of Life magazine the letters from readers in response to a cover story in the December 18, 1964 issue that I –alas!— do not have.

Nearly every other letter was from people in high dudgeon that Life should dare introduce the likes of Elizabeth Taylor into their homes:

Sirs:
Oh, come now, Life! First we were ‘treated’ to two issues full of the tragic account of Marilyn Monroe (1962 and 1964 versions). Then came the saga of Sophia Loren (who ‘feels married’). Now you scrape the bottom with 12 nauseating pages of prattle by Elizabeth Taylor (who demurs at her private life being made public).
Life to me has always been an informative, newsworthy family magazine. Let the accounts of Taylor, Loren et al. be published by the pulp magazines, and not besmirch the pages of a fine magazine with such trivia.
--Willis D. Calkins Jr., Bellport, N.Y.

Sirs:
When I saw the cover, which looks like she just crawled out of bed and put on a pair of earrings, I was so angry that I felt like taking it to the back porch and tearing it up.
--Mrs. Nelson E. Shultz, York, Pa.

I have to wonder if the quotation I used in this week’s cartoon was from that December 18, 1964 issue of Life Magazine. Or in response to some of those January 15, 1965 letters.