Two Views of 3-D Comics

     There are problems inherent to writing this blog that I cannot overcome. My type of detailed research takes a long time. Following a lead may take weeks, months, sometimes even years. One discovery prompts another and that leads to yet another. Documents found must be analyzed, interviews must be conducted and transcribed, supporting material found. But the fact is that this kind of plodding research carries with it a curse. The people I write about, many of them my heroes, are human. Fantastically talented, but ultimately mortal. 
     During the several years (yes, years) I have spent putting this post together, two of men involved have passed away, Leonard Maurer and most recently, the great Joe Kubert. Tragically, he died before I was able to send a final list of questions in order to tie up some loose ends before making my post. That will now never happen.  --  Ken Quattro
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     In the physical world, seeing in 3-D is easy. Our brain combines the images projected onto the eye's retina with various visual cues (such as perspective, shading and relative size) allowing us to understand the world in its three-dimensional glory.
      But to perceive a flat image three-dimensionally first requires two eyes. The binocular disparity between our two ocular orbs perceive everything from a slightly different vantage point. Optimally, the brain takes these two differing views, combines them, and comes away with the perception of three dimensions.
     In much the same way, there are two differing views of the creative story behind 3-D comic books and it takes both views to get a complete picture.
     As the tale of 3-D comics was inexorably tied to St. John Publications, I covered aspects of it when writing "Archer St. John and the Little Company that Could". Since my history was obviously St. John-centric, I began my research by contacting Joe Kubert and Leonard Maurer.

     Leonard (aka Leon or Lenny) was an eclectic, colorful, and somewhat eccentric, individual. His lengthy bio listed accomplishments from musician to engineer, from philosopher to inventor. It was in that last role, and as the brother of comic book creator Norman Maurer, that Leon is vital to the story of 3-D comic books. It is, in fact, his telling of that story upon which everything else herein hinges.

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THROUGH MAURER'S EYES 

     It began for Leon Maurer when he and his brother Norman, along with their pal Joe Kubert, happened to be driving by the Paramount Theater on Times Square. Joe, according to Leon, looked up at the marquee touting its latest attraction, Arch Obler's 3-D exploitation epic, Bwana Devil, and said, "Gee, wouldn't it be great if we could make a 3-D comic book?"  ¹
     It sounded simple enough.
     Kubert had stated on several occasions that the idea first came to him when he was in the army, "...in Germany (1950/51) and saw a 3-D (photo) mag. I suggested a 3-D comic book. Norm Maurer and I worked it out."  ²
     Norman Maurer elaborated. "We had worked all night and I'll never forget how we waited on the street for Woolworth's store in mid-town Manhattan to open because we figured we could get red and green cellophane from lollipop wrappers. We bought two packages and made a funny pair of glasses which, believe it or not, worked perfectly."  ³

     But between the inspiration and the execution there was the critical technical process. That's where Leon Maurer came in.
     Following Kubert's speculative musing in front of the Paramount, Leon had a revelation. "Later, while driving home to Queens over the Midtown bridge, the whole process [of] depth shifts suddenly popped into my head," he told interviewer Ray Zone.
     "With the idea fully formed in my head, I immediately turned around, picked up some acetates, went back to Norm's hotel room, and explained the process to him. We then collaborated on a short, short story, and he went immediately to work with pencil, brush, ink and paint, following my technical instructions while I did the opaqueing. Around 2:00 AM we finished the real World's First 3-D comic book page entitled, 'The Three Stooges in the Third Dimension' starring Moe, Shemp and Larry."  ⁴
     Certainly the concept wasn't new. British physicist Charles Wheatstone put forth the idea in the 1830s and soon began producing reflecting mirror stereoscopic devices that allowed the viewer to see his slightly offset drawings (and soon after, photographs) in apparent three dimensions. Not long after, in 1853, Wilhelm Rollmann of Germany described a technique using complementary colored images viewed through glasses fitted with red and blue filters to achieve the three-dimensional effect. Frenchman Louis Arthur Ducos du Hauron refined this anaglyphic technique for photographs; a technique that eventually provided the basis for the 3-D comic books.
     Was Leon Maurer aware of any of the previous efforts using anaglyphs? Or did the idea come to him "fully formed" as his recollection suggested?
     In any case, the three men took their sample page to publisher Archer St. John, for whom they were already producing several titles. Norm Maurer recalled that St. John, "...almost fell out the window when he saw the drawings which literally popped from the paper."  ⁵ 
     St. John was on board, with a 25% stake in the new company named American Stereographic which brought with it a guarantee of a six month exclusive license to their 3-D process. The comics were produced in secrecy as to prevent anyone from stealing the process and beating them to the newsstand. When ready, the date was set. It would hit the stands on Friday, July 3rd, as the country was going into the holiday weekend.


      THREE DIMENSION COMICS #1  (1st edition, Sept.1953)       In the August, 1953, WRITER'S DIGEST, writer Aron M. Mathieu recounted the frenzy that accompanied the release of THREE DIMENSION COMICS #1, featuring Mighty Mouse.
      The telephone swithboard of the Roxbury News Company flashed two red lights, and before the PBX operator inserted her first plug, two more lights beamed red at her. "Holy Cripes," she sang out to the bookkeeper who was passing her board. "I bet you billed GLAMOR to all the newsdealers again and forgot to send the magazine. Now I listen to them raise hell."
     "This is Stop 56," said the first voice, Schultz's by Main Street. "We're outta 3-D. I can use 16 more."
     "I'm Bellfontaine, your Stop 187," said the next voice. "Finally you got something we can sell so you give me 4. I need 18 more 3-D right away."
     But Stop 56 and Stop 187 didn't get any more, for the nation's craziest, zaniest fad, THREE-DIMENSION COMICS, had both kids and newsdealers by  their ears as they fought to buy 40,000,000 copies in one month, with only a fraction of the desired supply available.  ⁶
     While Mathieu's number may be an exaggeration, the excitement stirred up by the comic's release was not. Others began to take notice. 
     "The competition, Ace, Dell, Goodman, National Comics, Pines and all the others who missed the boat," continued Mathieu, "were burrowing into printing techniques trying to issue their own 3-D comics before the kids ran out of quarters or their parents raised hell because of eye strain."  ⁷
    "After terrific take off of MIGHTY MOUSE, 1st 3-D comic," stated the July 31, 1953, edition of American News Company's newsletter, THE LOOK OUT, "St. John is readying six companion pieces for August bow."  ⁸
     The August 28th of the same publication breathlessly noted the, "Flood of 3-D titles to hit the stands in Sept. St. John's MIGHTY MOUSE leading the pack with a first issue sellout of 2,500,000 and starting 2nd issue with 2,300,000; additional 3-D comics on the way are St. John's 3 STOOGES, and WHACK!; Toby's FELIX THE CAT; Archie's KATY KEEN (sic); Fiction House's 3-D CIRCUS, and SHEENA...Independent  coming out with SUPERMAN, a 3-D book, not a comic."  ⁹
     Throughout it all, Kubert maintained a pragmatic view.
     "We estimate that the first 40,000,000 comics we print will sell and then it will be all over," he was quoted in the WRITER'S DIGEST article, "Whoever gets his books out first wins. Publishers who come along next November will flop because of the 25¢ price and because many parents may say 3-D comics are hard on the kids' eyes."  ¹⁰
     More money was to be made, they assumed, from licensing their technique.

    Trade publication ad for American Stereographic Corp. (1953)
     from ADVERTISING AGE (Aug. 3,1953)   

  Topps TARZAN card and wrapper  (1953) [attributed Norman Maurer art on wrapper]
     Then, amidst all of this good news arrived a letter, dated July 10, 1953, and addressed to American Stereographic Corporation.

Gentlemen:      
    I have just learned that you are engaged in the business of producing, selling and distributing certain three-dimensional comic books employing a process invented and patented by me some years ago.     
    Your said acts constitute an infringement upon my rights and I demand that you cease and desist from all such activity forthwith.     This notice is without prejudice to the assertion of any and all claims for infringement that may lie against you.

Very truly yours, 
Freeman H. Owens
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THROUGH FELDSTEIN'S EYES
 
     Several years after first communicating with Kubert and Maurer, I met Al Feldstein at a comic book art exhibition. We arranged a phone interview, which I conducted in January, 2008. Except for a few bracketed prompts from me, and some minor edits to extraneous conversation, this is the transcript of his story. I have also included some informational material, within brackets, to provide context. 

     Let’s see. The inspiration was that Bill and I, for some reason, got very fascinated with 3-Ds.
     He bought this Stereo Realist, with a projector and a silvered screen, a special screen and had the polarized glasses. He’d go to Cuba. He liked to go to Havana. He photographed, with his Stereo Realist, the shows…know what I mean? (laugh) and then he would show it to us, to me, the shows. We got fascinated with it, and we wondered how…3-D movies were out…you know, this was the Fifties. Early Fifties. We got fascinated with how we could put this into the comics. 
 

  Stereo Realist camera ad  (1949)
    He had a bonus party once, in which he gave out a one of those exotic 35 mm Konica cameras, which I loved, it was like $300-$400. I’d been using it prevalently. We had discovered some of these French (unintelligible) process…red and green process…I don’t know if it has a name or not…one of the two images is printed in red, the other is printed in green and with these glasses that of the two superfluous prints to test your eye, and the other eye…and you could see 3-D. it was planar imaging.
     I figured well, gee whiz, what we need to do is have two views of the same art. That will do it. So I spent one day, all morning, producing a kind of stage show. Not a stage show, but a stage setting. I had a tree, I had a gal sitting on an ashcan and a fence, a sidewalk, distant trees, etc., etc., and I set up my camera, and I turned one picture of it. It had depth, you know, like a stage setting. I set up my Konica and I took one picture and I moved it four inches, or so and I took another.       
     Then I had it developed. I had black-and-white film, which was high-contrast. I had the prints made and I got back a print of each of the two views that I took, and I said to Bill, "Let’s see what we can do with this," and so sent it down to the engraver, I guess at our own expense, and had a proof pulled. They printed a photograph of one of the views on a red plate, and one of the views for a green plate, and they produced a 3-D picture! It worked! I mean, you could see these planar differences, you know.
     The tree was way up at the front, the girl was toward the back, the fence went away from the foreground to the background, the sidewalk went away from the foreground to the background, the house across the street was behind the bushes, etc., etc.
     So, we look at this and I say, "Well, we achieved 3-D in a printed form, a comic book panel, but how could we ever have this for a book? What the hell! Are we gonna make stage settings for every panel? This is ridiculous!"
     So we abandoned it. I took it home and stuck it in with my memorabilia. Whatever. I had it framed.  
     Anyway, there was this guy from the School of Music and art that I went to when I was a kid named Lenny Maurer. Lenny was…well, I don’t know why he went to the school as he really wasn’t into his art, he was an art student...he used to get on the subway at  Franklin and I used to get on...I’d take the 88th at Flatbush…and we would play the harmonica together, play hooky and go to the Paramount, see Benny Goodman, blah, blah, blah. He lived over on Carroll Street somewhere in Brooklyn and I lived in Flatbush, on Eastern and 1st Street, and after graduation he went on to Brooklyn College and I went on and got out of touch with him.       
     Anyway, I went into the service. Then I came back, then one day in my apartment, when I was working for EC, Lenny got in touch and wanted to visit. I thought, “That’ll be great!” You know, my old best friend from high school. So, he came over to the house. Among other things we talked about, I was married, I’d been married since the service living with my first wife in Brooklyn in an apartment, and I showed him this proof. “Look at this. 3-D comics!” He looked at it, and he goes, “Gosh, it looks great!” And I told him how we did it and the problem we had.
     OK. Skip ahead a couple of years.
     St. John Publishing comes out with a 3-D comic book---I forget what it was…I think it was about a flying mouse [it was Mighty Mouse]. God, there it was 3-D! How the Hell did they do it? We couldn’t figure it out. So I was desperate to put it out, a 3-D comic, because 3-D was hot. Movies were out, people, kids were fascinated with the glasses, in the theaters. And now with the red and green pictures on the publications. We saw this was being patent pending by American Stereographic. So, we got in touch with them and we had to come back with a legal disclosure. But Lenny Maurer and…uh, oh, God, I forgot the name of the artist...and Joe Kubert. So, they walk in and I’m shocked! It’s Lenny! What the hell’s Lenny got to do with comic books? I remembered that he told me he was with a textile business. Which was his father’s business, but I’m not sure exactly what he did, he was not a clothing outfitter(?)… I assumed he was doing nothing to do with (unintelligible), but he listened…so we listened to their spiel and they go through it, and the financial arrangements that American Stereographic demanded so that they’d release to us their method, blah, blah, blah, and they left.       
     And I said to Bill, “This stinks! Something‘s wrong!” Lenny Maurer…off my impression of this may be…has only a year or two years ago, whatever it was, I don’t remember…had just (unintelligible). “Something is fishy. Let’s go down to the library and look at patents.”       
     I don’t know what pushed us to do this.  Bill…he and I were good friends, we were adventurous, we would to games together, we would go to documentaries together. I pushed him into horror, blah, blah, blah. So we went into a nearby library and started to dig through patents. I got this feeling that I should look through patents that were expiring. That were close to their 15-16 year limit. [Patents used to expire at 17 years]
     Anyway, I’m looking and looking and looking and there it is!  My God! A patent for green images or cels and moving the cels. It was designed for photographing animation films so that they had a 3-D effect. [Feldstein makes a side reference to Disney applications of the process] And then I see that there’s an addition which Freeman H. Owens basically had added for 3-D applications in other forms. Or something like that. I don‘t remember.      
     I said to Bill, “There it is!” I turned the page back a full (unintelligible) and there was a(n) expiring patent, in a textile process. (unintelligible) or something like that. I said, “Son-of-a-gun!" Lenny Maurer was looking for something for whomever he was working for in the textile company ran across this and a bell rang. And so he, figuring it was expiring, I guess formed American Stereographic with Kubert.      
     Now, this is all my conjecture. I'm not sure if that's exactly what happened.       
     So, we got to get to this Freeman H. Owens and we can make 3-D comics without American Stereographic. It was very clearly laid out how it was done. (unintelligible) …horizon was stationary, blah, blah, blah. We got to find this guy. Bill says, “How?” I said, “Well, now that I’m thinking of it, let’s go up into the library’s telephone book collection and start looking to see if he’s in the area or see how we can do it.       
     And so we look in the New York telephone book and like God was with us (laugh), here was Freeman H. Owens! (laugh) Down on 29th  Street or so.  (unintelligible) Freeman H. Owens lived in a brownstone, a little, you know, an odd little…and we go in and he greets us and we tell him this whole story. And he laughs he seems interested, and I said, “You know, it’s like your patent.” And Bill says, “We want to buy it.” He said, “It’s expiring, in like 6 months or so; 8 months.” And Bill says, “OK. We’ll just buy it for the balance, we want to have it, we want to own it so we can put out 3-D comics.” And Freeman said, “OK.”       
     Freeman later on became real friendly with us. Used to come to our Christmas parties and incidentally, he was quite a brilliant man. [Feldstein recounts a conversation in which Owens described a new plastic camera lens] That’s what he was. He was a great inventor, and made patents and that’s what he did until he died. 
 

  Freeman H. Owens posing with his 16 mm  home movie projector  (1924) [image acquired from the Freeman H. Owens Photo Page website]       [Freeman Harrison Owens had a long and storied history in the film industry. He was a cameraman in the Silent Era and has been credited with developing the synchronization of sound to film. He held around 2,000 patents in his lifetime. He was also the plaintiff in several copyright infringement lawsuits.]
     But anyway, he sold us what was left of his 3-D patent. Of course, we didn’t have any claim on any prior commitments he had on any planar camera or anything like that. We got it just for the use in this 2-dimensional printing process. Anyway, we went ahead and started to do the 3-D comics. We told American Stereographic to go screw themselves.  I don’t know how many other people they convinced with their patent pending, but (unintelligible)when we found the copyright. And we did our 3-D comics. By then, the fad was dying. It’s now coming back. I don’t know how successful our 3-D comics were.
     To kind of explain. I went home, I lived out in Hudson (unintelligible) and I made drawing boards. You know, lap type drawing boards with rings. We had a punch that made 3-hole loose leaf punches for paper, that were adjustable. I would make a set of…at that time I had sheets of vinyl or whatever it was to draw on, it was treated for ink drawings. It was the same as the cels the animation studios were using. I got these cels. I made sets of these cels, I made six or seven of these boards, whatever, for the artists. I fixed it so the punch would change position of the sheet for the foreground was, I think we moved it, I think I was experimenting with almost a half-an-inch and then like, three eighths, then like a quarter, then like an eighth. We did, I don't know how many sheets, I think it was four levels--I don’t remember exactly.
     [I think EC used six levels. That’s what I’ve read. You got down to six levels.]
     Six levels? I had five adjustable levels? [Yeah, that’s what I’ve read.] I don’t remember; I really don’t. Check around on our 3-D comics, I think they still work.
     I made these things, and of course, we pay these artists extra because they had to draw these panels, then turn the sheets over and opaque the art, just like animators do. In black and white. And we put out, I think it was three, 3-D comics…or two and we didn‘t print the third, I don‘t remember. You have to clarify that for me, too.
    [You put out two and there was a third one made, but it was never published.]
     Then, we had to go to Buffalo, after we had the artwork back, we drove the engraver  nuts ‘til he understood what the heck we were doing when we said, “Now, you photograph this set,“…it was a page…five times, that’s what you say we did…and I bound up the sets and they photograph that as one picture, through the set. Then by shooting it through the cels and…I’m not sure whether the artist (unintelligible) turned in a distance one panel and I didn’t shoot it. Then they shot that again. And they had two black-and-white photographs. Just like when you pulled my proof, you pull a proof, and that’s how we got the whole book together.
     We were doing this, it was clumsy, it was time consuming, it was really tough. But, it was better than making stage settings.
 
   
THREE DIMENSIONAL E.C. CLASSICS #1  (Spring 1954)         Now wait a second…I sent boards with seven punch holes, and they did this one page, they did it with three different planes, I said, “Just figure out  the planes,” and then I did the shoot. That’s what I remember. Anyway, with the engraving costs and the printing costs…I don’t know whether Bill made money or not. But I know we didn’t do the third one.
     Anyway, the next problem was after we had the proofs and it was all working, we had to have glasses made, you know, to bind into the covers, the issues. We had to go up to Buffalo, New York, where the Greater Buffalo Press was located, where EC was printing its comic books, to talk to them about how to print this and how to mix the paints…to print the inks, rather…to effectively work with our glasses, which we had, these green glasses, which they were making. 
     It was all pretty wild. That’s my story of 3-D.
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DUELING LETTERS

     Freeman Owens July 10th letter to American Stereographic set off a chain reaction. At the same time Kubert and the Maurers were trying to peddle their "3-D Illustereo" process, they became engrossed in an escalating war of dueling letters with Owens.
     Apparently unaware of Freeman's relationship to Bill Gaines, Leon Maurer sent the publisher a letter introducing him to their Illustereo process and offering him a chance to license it for his own comics.

      Leonard Maurer to Bill Gaines  

     Meanwhile, Owens (through his attorneys) upped the ante by next sending a letter to St. John Publishing informing them of his claim of patent infringement. 

     

Owens to Archer St. John

     Maurer reacts to Owens first letter by denying knowledge of any patent they may have infringed upon. He further requests that Owens send him the number and date of the patent he was referring to.

     

Maurer's response to Owens

    Archer St. John gets into the action by parroting Maurer's letter. He too asks for Owens' patent number and its date.

     

St. John's response to Owens

     Owens responds to Maurer with his patent number and its date.

     

Owens third letter to American Stereographic

     Maurer acknowledges receipt of the patent information and informs Owens that he has ordered a copy. In the meantime, Maurer requests that Owens meet with him to discuss the matter.

     

Maurer's response to Owens

          Owens sends St. John the same patent information he sent to Maurer previously.

     

Owens third letter to American Stereographic

     Owens (and presumably his attorneys) decide to swing for the fences. Their next letter goes out to the powerful distributor, American News Corporation. This cease and desist letter was likely designed to interfere with the newsstand distribution of the St. John 3-D comics.

     

Owens letter to American News Company

     Taking it even further, Owens contacts St. John's largest advertiser--Lionel Trains Corporation--and informs them of his patent claim. Probably unknown to Owens, Lionel and Archer St. John had a longtime connection going back to his days as their advertising manager. 

     

Owen's letter to Lionel Corporation

     Even after a month of ever-increasing threats from Owens, it appeared that Maurer was still unaware of the inventor's connection to Gaines.

Maurer's second letter to Gaines  

    A lawsuit seemed inevitable. But even if the Maurers, Kubert and St. John were bracing for that likelihood, surely they never could have suspected what would occur on August 3rd.

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ENDNOTES

¹ Zone, Ray, "Leonard Maurer: 3-D Comics Pioneer", http://www.ray3dzone.com/LM.html

²  Kubert, Joe, letter to author, March 31, 2004.

³  Lenburg, Jeff et. al., THE THREE STOOGES SCRAPBOOK, pg. 119  (1982).

⁴  Ray Zone, op. cit.

⁵  Jeff Lenburg, et. al., op. cit., pg. 125.

⁶  Mathieu, Aron M., "3-D Comics Knock 'Em Dead", WRITER'S DIGEST, Aug. 1953.

⁷  Ibid.

⁸  The Lookout staff, THE LOOKOUT, (July 31, 1953).

⁹  The Lookout staff, THE LOOKOUT, (Aug. 28, 1953).

¹⁰  Aron M. Mathieu, op. cit.

Additional general information obtained from the NEW YORK TIMES archives, ARKANSAS BIOGRAPHY: A COLLECTION OF NOTABLE LIVES by Nancy A. Williams and Jeannie M. Whayne, Selected Attempts at Stereoscopic Moving Pictures and Their Relationship to the Development of Motion Picture Technology, 1852-1903 by H. Mark Gosser, "Seeing in Three Dimensions" by Jonathan Strickland, "Anaglyphs Perfected" from PHOTOGRAPHIC TIMES, July, 1896, issue.

Mystery of the Radio Spirit -- Solved!

[Announcer] In the previous episode, our intrepid detective was last seen  staring at his computer screen, intently pondering the puzzle before him. His decades long search for information about the fabled Spirit radio program had produced little other than a single crumbling letter found among the late Will Eisner's correspondence. The futility of his quest left him no choice. Setting pride aside, the humbled gumshoe made a plaintive cry for help into the vastness of the Internet. A cry that was heard and answered in this exciting conclusion of...The Mystery of the Radio Spirit!
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     I have always been thankful for the help I've received from other comic fans. Kindred souls who share the same interests and passions as I. But for once, the help didn't come from them, it came in the form of a Schadow. Specifically, Karl Schadow.
     Karl, a brilliant radio historian and writer, happened to read of my request for information regarding the legendary Spirit radio show on an old-time radio chat list. Not long after, he emailed me.
      "There definitely was a program on WFIL in Philadelphia from 1940- ca. 1942," he wrote as he briefly recounted a few details he had retrieved from various trade magazines. "I'll be more than happy to send you copies of the reviews and anything else I find on this program, " Karl promised. And true to his word, he did. 

     "THE PHILADELPHIA RECORD, in a swap deal with WFIL, Philadelphia, inaugurated on Oct. 26 a weekly 15-minute dramatization based on the three crime-fighting comics carried in a Sunday special comic section. Each Saturday, the program will alternate between  "The Spirit", " "Lady Luck", and "Mr. Mystic," comprising the Sunday comic special. Although every newspaper in the city has special swap deals with every station, the Record is the first to tie in a regular newspaper feature with a with a regular air show, all others using the time for institutional and spot campaigns."[BROADCASTING, Nov. 1, 1940]

     Amazing. My years of searching for clues about this program had returned naught. Yet Karl had found this revealing mention that answered most the questions I had about the show.
     It premiered much sooner than I had speculated; actually not long after the strip debuted in June, 1940. To be sure, the PHILADELPHIA RECORD was one of the earliest proponents of Eisner's creation, as demonstrated by this ad.


  THE PHILADELPHIA RECORD (Sept. 1, 1940) [image courtesy of Charlie Roberts]         Perhaps the most intriguing aspect of the clipping Karl sent, was the revelation that not only did The Spirit strip get a radio drama-tization, but so did his Sunday section partners, Lady Luck and Mr. Mystic! 

     Given the date, it follows that the first Spirit episode was based upon the October 27th strip, which found him contemplating joining the military.


  THE SPIRIT section (Oct. 27, 1940)  [as reprinted in the 1973 "Spirit Bag"]

    
     Karl's research didn't end with that one clipping. Included as well was a full-blown review of The Spirit from THE BILLBOARD, by legendary music critic, Maurie Orodenker. Orodenker (who would soon coin the term, "rock and roll" ) was effusive in his praise of the show.

     Considering the The Spirit, crime adventure comic in the paper's Sunday editions, is fast chasing Dick Tracy into a rumble-seat position in popular favor, this stanza has practically a ready-made audience for itself. And the the dramatic efforts of the actors are worthy of the advantage.

     Each dramatization is complete, based on the following morning's story. When caught, a frantic telephone call tells of a corpse in a college dormitory. The Spirit (Sam Serata) with his down-South Ebony (Salvatore Benigno) comes thru with his usual flair, battles the criminals and winds up with lipstick all over his face.

     Interest is sustained thruout. Mill Spooner at the organ tying together the scenic changes. Enid Hager, of the Record staff, scripts and produces. Gal was formerly with the station's production department, and does an excellent job. 

     Commercial palaver limited to bally on the paper's Sunday comic section.

     While Orondenker's estimation of The Spirit's popularity may be a bit off (it never truly challenged Dick Tracy), his evaluation of the program is enlightening. Now we know the actors who played the lead--Sam Serata--and Ebony--Salvatore Benigno. The characterization of Ebony as "down-South" is a reflection of Eisner's own portrayal; at once unfortunate, but consistent with contemporary media (e.g., Amos 'n' Andy). Since the lead to the review lists just The Spirit, it appears that somewhere along the way, both Lady Luck and Mr. Mystic lost their turns in the Saturday at 7:00 PM line-up.
     Not stopping with just this one review, Karl found yet another, from the February 4, 1942 issue of VARIETY.

     The Philly Record has evolved a novel method for plugging one of its prize Sunday comics by dramatizing part of the sequence the night before over the air and leaving  the Spirit, hero of the strip, in dire danger at the end of the dramatization. If the listener wants to know how Mr. Spirit gets out of this jam he has to buy the Sunday Record. Simple.

     The use of a cliffhanger not only took a popular device from the movie serials of the day, but provided a clever newspaper selling technique, which after all, was the purpose of the program in the first place. The date of the VARIETY piece reveals that the show ran well over a year; not as short-lived as its obscurity would indicate.
     But the search goes on. Karl is continuing to follow-up on several leads, and I can assure you, my quest will not stop.
     Do any recordings of  The Spirit program exist? And what happened to the scripts Hager sent to Eisner as mentioned in his letter? 
     Who knows what revelations are yet to come?
     If I had to bet, I'd bet Karl Schadow knows.
__________________________________________________________

ADDENDUM

     It has been suggested to me, by Denis Kitchen and others, that the 1987 Spirit Picture Disc record may contain excerpts from the radio program.
     Alas, this is not so.


  The Spirit Picture Disc  (1987)          The clips heard on the record come from a short-lived 1948 Spirit television show. This show, produced by Alan R. Cartoun Associates, apparently used panels from the strip accompanied by voice-overs by actors. Once again, the incredible Karl Schadow comes through with the info.

     A series of five, five-minute television productions, for an across the board weekly schedule, has been completed by Alan R. Cartoun, radio and television producer, Scarsdale, New York. An animated version of the syndicated comic strip, "The Spirit", the open-end package is available to local advertisers and TV stations throughout the country. 

     The episodes are delivered as a unit on specially prepared film strip with voice and sound track effects.
[BROADCASTING, Nov. 8, 1948]

     While there is undoubtedly a story yet to be told behind THAT venture (as well as the proposed 1966 Irwin Allen Spirit show), it is a story for another day. One mystery at a time, please.

Mystery of the Radio Spirit

     Sometimes its just the incidentals that intrigue me. The flotsam and jetsam of comic book history that float along outside the mainstream issues. It doesn't take much; sometimes it's just a letter.
__________________________________________________________

 November 29, 1941

Miss Enid Hager

The Philadelphia Record

Broad & Wood Sts.

Philadelphia, Penn.

Dear Miss Hager,

Thank you for the copies of the radio scripts of the Spirit show, they were fine. I'm really sorry that I can't get the show on my set here in New York. Your handling of the dialogue is great and the continuity positively absorbing. I am hoping that we can spread this idea around far and wide. Incidentally, I notice that the authorship, 'Will Eisner', is not mentioned after the opening. I'd deem it a great favor if you would include the 'by'-line after the Spirit, since the plots are identical with those in the section. Thanks, and my best regards.

Cordially,

Will Eisner

_________________________________________________________

     This was not the first I'd heard of The Spirit radio program, but the crumbling letter in my hands verified its existence. "At one point," wrote Jim Steranko in his HISTORY OF COMICS 2, "The Spirit became so popular, a radio show recounting his adventures played in cities like Washington, Philadelphia and Baltimore."
     Not much to go on, but it seemed to be a simple enough quest. The PHILADELPHIA RECORD was one of the original papers running The Spirit Sunday supplement and had reportedly profited nicely from its publication. Hoping to capitalize even more, the RECORD pushed for a daily version of the strip. And on October 13, 1941, it got its wish.



THE SPIRIT daily strip (Oct. 13, 1941) [as published in THE ART OF WILL EISNER]   

     An article by Norman Abbott published the same day, trumpeted Eisner's strip and his personal accomplishments. It's obvious the RECORD was pushing this strip hard and evidently it decided to create a radio program to accompany the daily's beginning.
     The RECORD already owned a radio station, WHAT, but its usual content leaned toward ethnic Italian and Polish programming and sober music shows. None of the gee-whiz kids adventure shows like Jack Armstrong or Captain Midnight that would seem to be fit companions to The Spirit. Enid Hager, the paper's promotions chief, was apparently given the task of the writing the show. 
     Hager's forte was promotion, but she must have had ambitions beyond her job title. Within a few years she had jumped to a similar role at rival WPEN, owned by the competing PHILADELPHIA BULLETIN. By 1943, she moved on to New York, "...to join a publishing house".  Things must not have worked out there, though, as by 1945, she was back in Philly heading up the city's Seventh War Loan and Salvation Army campaign. Under her married name of Enid Hager Clarke, she appears once more as co-author of a 1946 radio script.
     But what of The Spirit program itself? What time slot did it have? Was it on every day? How long did it run and who were its stars?
     I began my searches where I usually do. Newspaper archives and databases. Frustratingly, the PHILADELPHIA RECORD is an elusive beast. Few microfilm rolls of it exist and the one source I did find with a fairly comprehensive collection of it was missing the needed years of 1941-42. I purchased a yellowing copy of the December 11, 1941, issue, but its radio listings gave no indication of the show.
     I reached out to Philadelphia old-time radio expert, Alan Boris, but even he had never heard of the program.
     And that, dear reader, is where it stands.
     So I turn to you. Does anyone know more about this nearly mythical radio show? Was there an article or ad touting the show?
     If anyone has anything to add, please let me know so I can put this case to rest.

Weisinger on Woolfolk

      My most recent posting of William Woolfolk's scathing "obituary" of Mort Weisinger has stirred some emotions. While most of the responses I've received echo Woolfolk's dim view of Weisinger, one was far different. It came from Mort's son, Dr. Hendrie "Hank' Weisinger.

      Dr. Weisinger, who happens to be a noted psychologist specializing in emotional intelligence, asked that I post his reply to Woolfolk's essay. While this already appears in the comments section to the Woolfolk post, I feel it's only fair that I give Dr. Weisinger an equal platform for his rebuttal.
_____________________________________________________

Maybe you can post this. I'd appreciate it,
hank weisinger

      It is amazing that with so many negative perceptions said about Mort Weisinger, he maintained his position for thirty years. Other writers and editors came and went. they all had brilliant ideas, created concepts for Superman, but Weisinger took credit for all of them and somehow, convinced others that they were his ideas and gave these talented folks nothing but a kick in the pants. Wow, the guys who ran DC must of been blind.

      I don't know who it was, but surely, it was not Weisinger who got Superman on I Love Lucy, or thought of making Superman the spokesman for JFK's physical fitness program, or innovated comics with the annual. It must of been people like Woolfolk. Amzazing that Woolfolk's books never became bestsellers, like his friend Irving Wallace's and Ray Bradbury, who said, "It was Weisinger who discovered me; he took my story out of a slush pile," or the great Rod Serling: "Weisinger was a very talented man." How could the Society of Magazine Writers-now The American Society of Journalist and Authors, create the Mort Weisinger Award. What is wrong with Root's author, Alex Hailey, proclaiming, "Mort loaned me money so I could pay my dues and never asked to be repaid." These people should be shamed and humiliated for not recognizing the true Mort Weisinger who would yell at a writer for misspelling a word. Shame on all the science fiction experts who thought of him as a science fiction founder and for all the free lance writers, like award winning Sally Olds who proclaim he "inspired me." What is wrong with the editors of Saturday Evening Post, Readers' Digest, Life, and dozens of other magazines for publishing his articles that were so poorly written--they all should of been fired.

      There is something wrong with the comic industry to let a man who passes ideas of others off as his own, berates and humiliates others, who is a terrible writer stay in such a top position longer than all the other talented editors. It is amazing what you get by with when you are a creative genius.

      It is interesting that Woolfolk forgot to mention all the hospitality he and his wife received from the Weisinger on hot, humid summer days, when they would spend the weekend, swim in his pool, and eat his food. That Woolfolk sure knows how to tell a story.

Woolfolk on Weisinger

      Tradition requests that you don't speak ill of the dead.
      It's a concept nearly as old as civilization; a courtesy extended to a defenseless soul lest the violator incur bad karma or at least a disapproving look. Some of the departed, though, get a special dispensation from such polite consideration. It's hard to find anyone willing to say nice things about Adolph Hitler or Bin Laden. And while he's not nearly as despicable, few kind words have ever been said on the behalf of DC comics editor Mort Weisinger.

      Recently, I was gifted with an undated and apparently unpublished "obituary" of Weisinger, written by William Woolfolk, that the late Dr. Jerry Bails had shared with a few correspondents. Was this intended as a fanzine piece? Or a private letter? Who knows? Why Woolfolk wrote it is a mystery to this comics detective.

      [Mystery solved! Roy Thomas, comic book legend and current ALTER EGO magazine editor, has informed me that this William Woolfolk piece was originally written for submission to that publication. However, Woolfolk's critical commentary of Weisinger gave Thomas second thoughts and he sent his old friend Jerry Bails a copy for his opinion. They concluded it was too harsh for AE and the "obituary" never saw publication. Roy has graciously forgiven my unintentional appropriation of the piece and given his full approval of its online appearance here. Thanks, Roy!]

      William Woolfolk had a long career, beginning as a comic book writer at MLJ, spending more than a decade working for Fawcett, Orbit, EC and a brief venture into publishing as co-owner of O.W. Comics, before making his way to DC. Though his tenure at that company was relatively short (his talent and ambitions far exceeded the confines of the comic industry) his relationship with Weisinger stayed with him--and not in a good way.
_______________________________________________________

      When Will Rogers said that he'd never met a man he didn’t like, he had never met Mort Weisinger.

      In my dealing with the various people I met during the Golden Age, I always try to follow the Golden Rule of treating them as I would like to be treated. In most cases I think I succeeded, but I make an exception for the editor of the Superman comics. In Latin the saying is, "De Mortuis nil nisi bonum"--speak no evil of the deal. De Mort is a different matter, and it is long past time to let the full truth about him be known.

      I first met Mort through my wife Dorothy (nee Rubichek), who had worked with him on Superman at DC Comics. Dorothy said he was anxious to meet me, knowing that I wrote for Captain Marvel, Superman's chief rival in the marketplace. We invited him for a weekend at a summer home we had on Shelter Island. Mort came with his wife Thelma, a tall, willowy, very pretty woman who had been his nurse during a stay in the hospital.

      Within an hour, Mort was pressing me for a contest in which we'd plot new stories for our respective super-heroes. I saw this as a transparent attempt to formulate plots he could then offer to his writers, so I didn't go along with his "contest." As is now well documented, Mort made a habit of enticing writers to give him plot ideas which he would turn around and give to other writers as his own. He was addicted to the thievery of ideas.

      If Mort had lived in ancient Rome, he'd have been feeding writers to the lions in the arena. His chief victim was the very talented but very undisciplined and financially irresponsible Bill Finger. Mort was also editing BATMAN at the time, and Bill Finger was the writer who, with artist Bob Kane, had made BATMAN the most exciting and imaginative comic book feature of the time.

      I admired Bill Finger's work and knew he was having a rough time paying his bills, largely because he took so much time over his stories that he earned comparatively little money. He borrowed money from everyone he met, including from my wife Dorothy during the funeral of a well-beloved DC editor whose name I think was Bernie Breslau [note: actually, Breslauer].

      Mort reveled in telling tales about Bill Finger’s financial difficulties. And he took every opportunity to humiliate him. He made Bill wait in the anteroom for an hour while he discussed plots with other writers who had arrived later. On one occasion Bill arrived in his shirtsleeves because he’d told his wife he was just going for a pack of cigarettes and that time Mort kept him waiting for more than two hours. I was present when Mort laughingly joked about Bill’s predicament. I went out and lent Bill the ten dollars he needed so badly, and Mort reproached me, saying I was a "bleeding heart" and shouldn't have done that because Bill needed to be taught a lesson. "After all, he can sit down and write a page and get the money, but he’s too damn lazy." I said that not all writers could turn out pages like links of sausage.

      Most writers who worked for Mort Weisinger would probably have paid to buy a ticket to his hanging, but they could not afford the price that scalpers would have charged. His fellow editors in the same large office -- Jack Schiff and Murray Boltinoff -- always looked forward to my arrival because I mocked Mort as a modern Dracula who liked to suck the lifeblood from writers.

      Boltinoff was a particularly appreciative audience of Mort's skewering. Why did Mort put up with me? I think it was because he made the mistake of trumpeting what a catch he'd made by persuading me to work for Superman/DC.

      At the time I was working simultaneously for three other publishing houses--Fawcett, Timely, and Orbit Publications--and even selling some stories and articles to mainstream publications. As a result, I was under continual deadline pressures, but I thought that was a good trade-off for the increased security.

      However, I did get a personal glimpse of what it would be like if Mort got the upper hand. At one point I was down to three other markets because Robert Erisman had left editing Captain America and returned to editing the strip of pulp magazines for Martin Goodman. I made the mistake of telling Mort that, if he could guarantee me a certain number of stories, I would stay with only three publishing contracts.

      Mort mistakenly took this as a confession of need and told me that he considered every writer to be like a lemon that he squeezed until it was dry before throwing it away...and I was no exception. That was enough for me.

      On my next visit to DC I bypassed his office and went down the corridor to where Bob Kanigher was editing the other DC magazines. I'd known Bob from our days as writers at MLJ, and Bob had often suggested that I come to work for him.

      We were discussing a story idea when Mort came storming down the corridor. He demanded to know what I was doing there, and I replied that I had every right to work for whoever wanted to employ me. He then told Kanigher he could have me, because I wasn't up to his standards. I suggested he should try to be more modest about his standards, considering how modest they were.

      I believe that when people try to treat you like a dog, you should not only bark, you should bite. Considering the fact that Mort and I were like two pit bulls, it is hard for me to explain why we had any further contacts. Although we did,they occurred outside of comic books.

      The first was when I left comic books to become a magazine publisher. I employed several comic book people such as Murray Boltinoff and Jack Miller in getting out four pocket-sized magazines, and Otto Binder as editor of SPACE WORLD magazine, the first consumer magazine devoted to the unfolding Space Age.

      And then the distributor, Kable News, wanted an imitation of the phenomenally successful magazine CONFIDENTIAL. I was unwilling to deal in the kind of celebrity scandals that CONFIDENTIAL specialized in, but thought there would be a market for other "inside stories" which I would have to cull from various sources.

      I decided that Mort would be a good choice to help in packaging it.

      Commercially, that was a good decision. Mort came up with variations of previously published magazine interviews and stories, and I acted as editor and reviser of what he wrote and purchased from other writers. INSIDE STORY became the second-best-selling magazine of its kind, next to CONFIDENTIAL.

      By then Mort had become a slavish admirer of mine, claiming I was the best editor he had ever known -- an opinion that might have been based on the fact that I was paying him a share of the profits in addition to his packaging fee. In fact, I overpaid him, and when the time came for him to return some of the money, he accused me of "stealing bread out of his family's mouth."

      At one point while he was packaging articles for INSIDE STORY, Mort submitted an idea about heavyweight boxing champion Rocky Marciano having been involved in a fixed fight. I told him that sounded libelous to me, and I couldn't accept it. He responded that he'd excerpted it from an article that had appeared in THE SATURDAY EVENING POST. I still thought it risky to publish, so Mort said if there was any trouble about it he would pay any legal fees involved.

      Reluctantly, I went ahead and published it. Sure enough, the POST was sued for having made that statement, and we were sued for having republished it.

      When I reminded Mort of his promise to pay for any legal problems that resulted, he said I ought to sue the POST for the money.

      He was always trying to take advantage of people he knew. When Adlai Stevenson was running against Eisenhower for the Presidency in 1952, Mort, who admired Stevenson, as we all did, decided he was a loser and that he could profit from that. Instead of betting on Eisenhower, which would have been the straightforward thing to do, he called his friends who were also Stevenson rooters and said he could help them to place bets on Stevenson to show their support for him. Then he booked the bets himself. He told me this, chuckling at how he'd hoodwinked his friends.

      Once at a party in his home he boasted that DC Comics had never had to cancel a comic book title, and he put down money on a table to challenge anyone who said they had. I immediately rattled off a list of titles I knew DC had discontinued.

      Mort immediately picked up the money and said, "Well, you know."

      Our relationship came to an end when I sold my publishing business in order to become the story editor and head writer of The Defenders television show, which was then the most highly-regarded, award-winning show on the air.

      Mort wanted to write for the show, but Reginald Rose, the creator and owner of the show, wanted no part of him. Reggie had met him and shared the universal disregard in which most people held Mort.

      The last contact I had with Mort was after The Defenders, when I'd returned to my first love of writing novels. I had a million-copy bestseller with THE BEAUTIFUL COUPLE, and Mort wrote a pandering letter hailing me as the "Prince of Paperbacks." That resulted in an unexpected benefit for him, since the publisher wanted me to write another novel, based on the Miss America contest.

      But I had already committed to write for Doubleday a novel about a Supreme Court justice. When the head editor Ed Kuhn asked if I knew anyone else who might be able to handle the subject, I recommended Mort, knowing that he would do the research necessary, even though I knew that his prose style moved as turgidly as a river under ice.

      On my recommendation Mort got a contract for THE CONTEST and a handsome advance. Naturally, Ed Kuhn found him impossible to work with, and the novel had disappointing sales. Mort was never able to publish another, although I saw a recent mention of him as having written THE CONTEST and "other novels." A gross exaggeration for a gross man.

      The last time I saw Mort he told me, "Bill, you're the only one who's going to cry at my funeral."

      He was wrong about that.

      I didn't rejoice at his passing because I believe with John Donne who said, "Never send to learn for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee." But I reserve my tears, and I have shed them, for the lovely men and women I knew in the Golden Age of Comics.

      Enough said about Mort. Let him rest in peace.
________________________________________________________

      He didn't pull any punches, did he?

      I generally shy away from publishing any unsubstantiated gossip, but much of what Woolfolk writes about has been said by others. Maybe not as pointedly or in such detail, but frequently enough that I doubt little of what he wrote.

      A couple of years back, in ALTER EGO #98 (Dec. 2010), my friend, the great interviewer Jim Amash, responded to several complaints he had received about negative comments made by some of his interviewees.

      "The truth is, we can’t pick and choose the history we want to learn."

      Well said, Jim. I couldn't agree more.

William Ekgren -- Movie Star!

      Uddevalla is an ancient town, once Norwegian, presently Swedish. The world has changed, the borders may change, but Uddevalla endures. So, too, does current resident William Ekgren.

      My curiosity about the mysterious artist of three bizarre comic book covers published in the waning months of 1952, evolved into an obsessive search for his identity. My quest resulted in two articles (which can be read here and here) and the satisfaction that a long-overlooked artist was finally receiving his due.

      Proof that the world is indeed flat, the wondrous reach of the Internet allowed relatives, friends and admirers of Ekgren to contact me, filling in details, sharing photos of world-traveler William. It became obvious that there was far more to the man than the coincidental meeting at a Greenwich Village sidewalk art show that led to his minor, accidental "career" as a comic book cover artist.

      Not long after the publication of my second Ekgren post, I received the first of many emails from Erika Olsson. Erika is William's great-niece, and more importantly, a film-maker.

      "I am doing some research about my family, Erika wrote in her first email, "Ever since I was a kid I heard a lots of stories about William, his painting and his sometimes crazy life."

      As my articles had provided details about a part of William's life that she had never known, Erika had a request.

      "The reason why I write to you, is that I have been filming William for almost a year now. It looks like it will be a documentary about him..."

      The first incarnation of this project was a 6-minute short entitled, KORTET (The Card). The focus of this particular work was the ongoing bickering of William and his nonagenarian sister, Greta.

      "This probably sounds a little bit strange", Erika continued, "but I would love to have people from all around the world that know/knew him, love him, hate him or just knows about his former work. Like small interviews. My question to you is, if you want to be part of this?"

      Despite my natural shyness, I have agreed to Ekika's request. At this point, she is trying to arrange financing for a trip to the U.S. that would include a visit and interview with me. In the meantime, she has established a Facebook page carrying the name "Larry's World", which is the name of her production company. If you click on that link, you will find among her postings, information about her film and recent photos of the incomparable William.

      Erika has kindly shared a very recent photo with me, one that makes me smile. In it, Ekgren is seen reading a copy of Craig Yoe's ARF FORUM, and presumably, the first print appearance of the article I wrote about him.


William Ekgren (2012)
      When you drop a pebble into the ocean, it's amazing how far the ripples can spread.

Michael T. Unleashes Rich E.!

      Not only am I getting older; I'm getting luckier.

      Once again Michael T. Gilbert has dug into his personal files, reached across the ether and made me an offer I can't refuse:

Hi Ken!

I just remembered another unpublished DC short story. It was originally supposed to be a three-page section of Keith Giffen's 1992's very funny AMBUSH BUG: NOTHING SPECIAL. However it turned out to be too hot to print!


At the time I wrote this, the 1989 ARKHAM ASYLUM graphic novel was still making waves. Old-school Luddite that I am, I pretty much hated the whole package. When Keith Giffen invited me to contribute to his comic, (which included a roast of editor Julie Schwartz), I jumped on it and decided to do a send-off of Vertigo. In the decades since, I've found a number of their titles that I really admire, but my initial reaction was that the line was depressing, negative and pretentious. I also felt that fully-painted comics like Dave McKean's ARKHAM ASYLUM and Frank Miller and Bill Sienkiewicz's ELEKTRA:: ASSASSIN, beautiful as they were, were just hard to read.

Interestingly, ARKHAM ASYLUM illustrator Dave McKean later came to a similar conclusion, saying "overpainted, lavish illustrations in every panel just didn’t work. It hampers the storytelling."

Anyway, my idea was to do a Vertigo version of Harvey's classic kiddie comic, Richie Rich. Unfortunately after I handed it in, despite protests by my editor and Keith, some higher-ups at DC nixed my three-pager. They claimed there were worried about a possible Harvey lawsuit. Personally, I've long suspected that my Vertigo parody hit a little too close to home, but I'll let you decide.

On a technical level, I drew hand-separated color for the Rich E. Rich section, followed by full color art for the Ambush Bug part. It would have been very striking, and I always felt bad that the strip never saw print.

I guess the joke was on me!
__________________________________________________________

Text and art scans by Michael T. Gilbert
 © 2011 by DC Comics
[all text and artwork is presented for not-for-profit historical purposes only and no further use is allowed or implied]


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