Why Is Jay Ward in the Sports Column?

The concepts of Iron Curtain spies and science fiction space aliens are a little outdated, but remain entertaining when placed in the right hands. And, in this case, the hands belonged to the people at Jay Ward Productions.

Rocky and His Friends debuted in 1959. Its cartoons are still enjoyable. You can put dopey moose Bullwinkle in all kinds of situations—witness the “Bullwinkle’s Corner” and “Mr. Know-It-All” segments—and get fun out of them. It’s still fun almost 60 years later.

“Fractured Fairy Tales” still hold up, thanks to clever stories and excellent voice casting.

Several columnists acclaimed Ward and his staff in the early going (before moving to NBC, adding Dudley Do-Right and becoming The Bullwinkle Show). Perhaps the most unusual spot for praise was in Jim Scott’s sports column of Oct. 17, 1960.

Actually, it wasn’t unusual at all. Scott wrote for the Berkeley Daily Gazette, Ward’s hometown paper. He fit Ward into his commentary about U.C. Berkeley’s 27-10 defeat by the U.S.C. Trojans football team.

Of Rocky's Best Friend—Jay Ward
AMONG THE CAL ROOTERS at the game was J. T. (Jay) Ward. You may know him as the Domingo Ave. realtor. But he's a legend in Hollywood — though he's been there only a year. Jay's in the animated cartoon business. You've seen "Rocky And His Friend," [sic] TV's highest rated daytime show. That's his. General Foods paid him $2 million for 78 issues. Coming up are "Hoppity Hooper," "Watts Gnu" and "Super-Chicken."
I toured Jay's three buildings on Sunset Blvd. His office is in an apartment in a Spanish courtyard. There he and his co-producer, Bill Scoutt [sic], run the show, which includes (temperamental) artists. In addition, Jay maintains a unit in Mexico City, where more than 100 cartoonist ink out the bulk of his work. In his Sunset studio the artists come and go as they please. Some do the work in their homes. The most industrious seemed to be a little guy who was turning out merchandising ideas for Jay's weird creatures. Actors, directors, animators, musicians and designers also are involved.
One of Jay's pledges, Marcelle Philpott, who picked me up at the Biltmore, turned out to be a 1950 Berkeley High grad. She said that Jay's so successful because he alone can handle artists. "Artists respect him," explained Miss Philpott, "because he does only quality work and is such a warm and understanding human being. He's fair with everyone. They wouldn't work for anyone else!”
The real estate business was inherited from his father; Jay's heart has always beat for cartooning. Why back in 1948, before television had even come to the Bay Area, Jay got the idea of combining for it newspaper cartoons with Hollywood animation. He and his boyhood pal, Alex Anderson, came up with the enormously successful "Crusader Rabbit." But they lost the property when the sales agency which had taken it over went bankrupt.
Crusader Sparked It All
The Crusader's financial romp was a gnawing challenge to young Ward to do it again. He came up with Rocky, the flying squirrel. To do it right, he went to Hollywood, started hiring the best talent. Yet he made his pilot film for only $5,000. His voices include such well known names as those of Edward Everett Horton and Charley Ruggles.
"You probably never heard of three others whom we use," said Jay. "They're Paul Frees, Daws Butler and Walter Tetley. But they're the highest paid performers in Hollywood. Their voices in cartoons net each of them $250,000 a year."
You know what a copy-cat Hollywood is. You see it even in the architecture near Jay's office. A new bank, Lytton Savings, on Sunset, has a folded, zigzag roof. Well, before it could be completed, an elegant hot-dog stand, "The Plush Pup," went up next door—with an identical roof.
But Ward doesn't fear such competition. "There are lots of artists in Hollywood," he said, "but not too many good ones. Most of mine started out with Disney. It takes a long time to learn this business. You have to wait for the profits, too. But, when they come, they can be oh so delightfully big."
Although Jay, a brilliant organizer, works a seven-day week on Sunset, he still operates his Domingo Ave. realty business, still is a member of the Berkeley Tennis Club, across the street from it. Several months ago, his wife and three children moved to Hollywood. They live within walking distance of Jay's studios.
While Ward has made many cartoon commercials, he's interested only in the big stuff with the heavy residues [residuals?]. (“Rocky” already has been sold to Australia, and all sorts of merchandisers are making use of the squirrel.)
Has Hollywood changed Jay Ward? Oh, he has acquired a something of a pot. But he still has all that thick black hair, the same easy smile and engaging ways that were his in his BTC and realty days.
"This work is fun, Jim." he said. "Actually, I'd be doing it if I didn't make a damned cent."
WHAT'S JAY WARD GOT TO DO with sports? Not much, actually. It's just fun, now and then, to do a success story for a change of pace.

Ward never got Watts Gnu on the air; no one wanted a puppet series. Hoppity Hooper was picked up by ABC in 1964. It was one of Ward’s lesser efforts. Super Chicken finally got on the tube in 1967 as part of George of the Jungle, and some people say it was funnier than the title show.

The company’s cash flow likely came from Quaker Oats, as it put its brand of humour (and stock cast) into more than a decade’s worth of commercials for Cap’n Crunch cereal (ending in 1984). Several other proposed projects never got off the ground and Ward retreated into the former Plush Pup hot-dog place and opened Dudley Do-Right’s Emporium, standing behind the counter and meeting fans who had no idea whom they were talking with.

A number of cartoon studio owners or managers had no background in animation. Ward was one of them. But he allowed talent to flourish and we can still smile at the fruits of their labours.