MASKED RIDER OF THE SILVER SCREEN by Tom Rizzo

On this day, Sept. 15, 1949, The Lone Ranger—starring Clayton Moore, and Jay Silverheels as Tonto—premiered on ABC television and ran until September 12, 1957. Moore appeared in about 170 episodes between 1949 and 1957. 

Years ago, I met Moore to interview him after an appearance at a Columbus, Ohio, car dealership that paid him $275 an hour to “unmask” that year’s new car models. I knew the owner of the dealership and told him I would have done it for a hundred bucks.

“Appreciate the offer, but we’re trying to attract a crowd, not your friends and relatives.”

Hmm, touché.

Moore, born Jack Carlton Moore, September 14, 1914, grew up in Chicago and spent much of his youth practicing gymnastics. He eventually joined a trapeze act called The Flying Behrs at age 19.

Moore traveled to Hollywood in 1938 and found work in films as a stuntman and bit player. 

He appeared in a number of serials as well as B-westerns. After a serving in the military, he returned to Hollywood and took a number of supporting roles, mostly in westerns. 

According to IMDB, one of his movie roles caught the attention of George W. Trendle, who produced the successful Lone Ranger radio series. Trundle, in the process of casting the lead role, approached Moore to offer him the role.

“Mr. Moore, would you like the role of the Lone Ranger?”

“Mr. Trendle, I AM the Lone Ranger.”

If there was any hesitation about his confidence, his performance in this 1949 pilot for the Lone Ranger series quieted the doubters.  

The day I met the Masked Rider of the Plains, I spotted him standing on a riser surrounded by Lone Ranger fans. 

The aging actor wore the all-too-familiar Lone Ranger costume but, in place of the famous half-mask, he wore large sunglasses. 

“Before I say anything else,” he told the fans gathered inside the showroom, “I’m required by law to tell you that my name is Clayton Moore who used to portray The Lone Ranger.”

Later, during our interview, Moore couldn't mask his disappointment at losing the right to wear The Lone Ranger mask. 

The Wrather Corp., at that time, owned the rights to Moore's character and planned a feature film starring a younger man as The Lone Ranger. 

The issue ended up in court. Wrather won the argument that two Rangers would confuse the public. (Courts, movie producers, and politicians always seem to consider the public a bit feeble-minded and stupid in these kind of matters). 

During our conversation, Moore shook his head slowly as if still in disbelief at the disheartening turn of events.  

“Here's a company that said to me for all these years: 'as The Lone Ranger, don't to this, don't do that. Uphold the name of The Lone Ranger.' I've done that for 30 years. I have lived the part of The Lone Ranger.”

In what was believed a backlash of fan support for Moore, the movie flopped at the box-office, sort of giving Moore the last word. But, to his credit, he never displayed any public pleasure at the film's disappointing showing. 

In fact, in his 1996 autobiography—I Was That Masked Man—Moore said he would "never wish failure on anyone,” displaying strict adherence to The Lone Ranger persona. Always a class act. 

Moore counter-sued, but the legal proceedings went on for years until Jack Wrather—without explaining why—simply dropped the case. Wrather died a month later. His widow Bonita sent a letter to Moore, in which she wrote: “please be advised that Wrather Corporation hereby grants to Clayton Moore the rights to wear The Lone Ranger mask.”

I remember watching Moore that afternoon at the dealership captivate his audience as he revealed the legend of the masked rider's origin. And, he was more than believable. 

"From a personal perspective, what kind of impact has the The Lone Ranger character made on you?"

He flashed a warm smile. "I'm sure the character I've been portraying has helped make a better person of me. More tolerant. More considerate."

For a second, I was skeptical and thought he might have been carrying the Lone Ranger persona a little too far. But I was wrong. Clayton Moore was the real deal. Genuine and steadfast in his beliefs. 

“Sounds like you’ve taken a page out of The Lone Ranger Creed," I said.

“I tell the truth,” he countered in a soft but firm voice. “Part of the Lone Ranger Creed is: I believe that everything changes on this earth but the truth. And it goes on forever.”

If I had any doubts about the sincerity of the role he cherished, I remember watching The Late Show with David Letterman one evening. One of his guests, Jay Thomas—actor, sportscaster, and writer—told a great story about Clayton Moore.

Thomas said he appeared on a radio show where Clayton Moore was a guest back in the early 70s. At the end of the broadcast, Moore's transportation to the airport didn't show up so Thomas agreed to give him a ride. 

Moore, still wearing his LR outfit—including mask—climbed into the back seat of Jay’s Volvo. Thomas and his producer—both of whom wore extremely long hair that was stylish at the time—sat up front. 

During a stop in heavy traffic, the driver ahead of them backed up and hit the Volvo and then took off. Thomas decided to give chase and finally caught up the guy. Thomas and his producer jumped out of the car and confronted the other driver. 

“What are you going to do?” the man asked. 

“We’re going to call the cops,” Thomas replied.

“Oh really. Who do you think they’re going to believe, you two hippie freaks or me?”

At this point, Clayton Moore climbed out of the backseat of the Volvo, approached the hit-and-run driver, rested his hands on the handles of his six-shooters and said,  “They’ll believe me, citizen.” 

When I left the interview and made my way out of the showroom, one of the salesman corralled me.

“This guy really thinks he’s The Lone Ranger,” he said in a conspiratorial whisper, rotating his eyes to the ceiling.

Obviously not a believer.

"Stranger," I said to him, feeling the need to provide cover for one of my childhood heroes, “he is The Lone Ranger.”

____

Tom Rizzo blames the The Lone Ranger, Durango Kid, Randolph Scott, Tim Holt, and Paladin for triggering his lifelong obsession with the American Frontier—and for convincing him that outlaws must face justice, no matter how many guns they carry or how high the odds. 

A novelist and naturally curious amateur historian, Tom’s new three-volume collection, Tall Tales from the High Plains & Beyond features dozens of quick-read true stories featuring characters and events of the Old West, crafted with a fictional technique that drops readers into the middle of the action. If you enjoyed the story above, please share it with your friends. And visit Tom's Blog and rediscover the Old West.

NOT YOUR FATHER’S LONE RANGER

Troy D. Smith

Not your father’s Lone Ranger –and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. In 2006 Dynamite Entertainment debuted its Lone Ranger comic, by Brett Matthews and Sergio Cariello. It was an immediate hit, with critics as well as fans. The title was nominated for an Eisner award for best new series, and was named “Best Western Comic Book of the Year” by True West in 2009. Matthews and Cariello have consistently managed to capture the spirit of the characters and give nods to their storied history while still providing depth and appealing to modern readers. As of this writing, in January 2011, the series has seen 24 issues and four story arcs. I would prefer to see the book coming out on a more regular basis, but waiting a couple of months for Cariello’s excellent artwork is more than worth it. The first three story arcs are available in trade paperback, and the fourth one will be soon; an upcoming miniseries will see the Lone Ranger interacting with an elderly Zorro (Dynamite also publishes Western comic series about Zorro and the Man with No Name.)

Of course, the Dynamite series is only the latest incarnation of the masked man. The character was originally created in 1933 by Detroit radio producer George W. Trendle and freelance writer Fran Striker (the two men argued publicly for years about which had the largest role.) Eventually the Lone Ranger galloped from radio to serials, movies, cartoons, and a long-running television series. He appeared in a newspaper comic strip (initially scripted by co-creator Striker, who also wrote several Lone Ranger novels) from 1938 until 1971, and again in the early ‘80s. The masked man first appeared in comic books in January, 1948; except for a brief hiatus in the early 1960s when the rights changed from Dell to Gold Key Comics, the title continued until March, 1977 (an interesting side note, at least to me: that other famous masked cowboy, Marvel Comics’ Two-Gun Kid, headlined his own comic from March, 1948 until April, 1977.) The Ranger had a brief four-color comeback in the mid-90s with a Topps Comics miniseries by Joe R. Lansdale and Timothy Truman.

The first story of Dynamite’s series closely follows the origin story from the original radio program: young Texas Ranger John Reid is the lone survivor of an ambush by the Butch Cavendish gang which kills five other Rangers, including Reid’s father and older brother Dan. The troop had been betrayed by a traitorous Ranger named Collins. The seriously wounded Ranger is rescued and nursed back to health by an Indian named Tonto, who becomes his partner. Reid buries his five dead comrades, and adds an empty grave –John Reid is dead to the world, and only the Lone Ranger survives. Before long there is a white stallion and a silver mine which produces material for the masked man’s bullets. I like the way Matthews and Carielo include more subtle Easter eggs to pay tribute to the character’s history. In the early issues he wears the red shirt which the Lone Ranger sported in the 1940s, and later switches to a more Clayton Moore-esque blue one. In one scene, the sheet music to The William Tell Overture sits prominently on a piano in the foreground. John Reid’s young nephew, Dan Jr., is obsessed by hornets –Fran Striker fans will immediately realize that little Dan will later be the father of Britt Reid, the 1930s Green Hornet.

There are a few changes, however, and a few modern touches. John Reid seems more sensitive, and less sure of himself, than the stalwart hero we are accustomed to. Like the hero of yore, he refuses to take a life –he uses silver bullets to emphasize the heavy price paid for every shot fired. I don’t remember that reasoning being part of Lone Ranger lore before, although perhaps it was there and I just missed it. The widow and son of his brother Dan are important supporting characters, and the Ranger’s tender feelings for them is a dramatic element in the series. The aging, melancholy Sheriff Loring is another prominent member of the supporting cast, providing a similar dynamic to Commissioner Gordon in Batman stories. Butch Cavendish is a far more interesting villain than he has ever been before –no longer a simple outlaw boss, he is portrayed as an unhinged, psychotic politician, given to grandiose soliloquys and sardonic conversations with God. He is sort of a cross between Al Swearingen of Deadwood and the Joker.

The biggest change –and really, how could it not be –is the depiction of Tonto. He is no longer the monosyllabic, pidgin-English speaking, loyal “Injun” sidekick. Nor does he get beaten up every time he goes to town alone, as Bill Cosby famously observed. This Tonto speaks fluent English, is a formidable and supremely competent hero, and is an equal partner –in many ways a mentor –to the Lone Ranger. He is also more likely than his partner to get the girl. Critics of the character have for decades pointed out that the very name “Tonto” is condescending, as it is a Spanish word meaning “fool.” Matthews’ script makes it clear that Tonto is not the man’s given name: “You can call me Tonto. People used to.” We later learn that he is an outcast from his tribe (hence the name Tonto, perhaps, as Apaches often spoke Spanish –though that has not yet been clarified in the comic.) At one point his old friends deride him for being a “faithful Indian companion.” It is only fair to point out that Lansdale and Truman’s 1994 version of Tonto was also articulate, capable, and aware of the public’s racist view of him: "Of course, Kemosabe. Maybe when we talked I should use that 'me Tonto' stuff, way they write about me in the dime novels. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

I hear that some fans of the traditional Lone Ranger have complained about the violence in the latest comics version. To be certain, this is not the kids’ TV show or the 1970s cartoon; comics today are primarily aimed at people college-age and older (the younger kids are busy playing with their wiis.) The action and language are more realistic –one storyline involves catching a serial killer. Even so, this incarnation of the Lone Ranger is just as much a model of virtue, morality, and honor as any that have come before. If you have pleasant memories of the character, or if you just enjoy a good Western action tale, I strongly recommend you pick up an issue or one of the trade paperback reprints.

(Troy D. Smith is the award-winning author of RIDING TO SUNDOWN, BROTHERS IN ARMS, THE PEOPLE IN YONDER, and GOOD REBEL SOIL: THE CHAMP FERGUSON STORY, among others.  Troy is currently a Doctoral candidate in the History Department at the University of Illinois. He says, "I don't write about things that happen to people—I write about people that things happen to.")