Switchboard, Switch Clothes

The Fleischers’ I Heard (1933) has some great music, characters trucking and bouncing, and not a lot of story. No matter. It’s still an enjoyable seven minutes.

The cartoon is set in a coal mine. Bimbo is a switchboard operator. A cat turns into a telephone.



A rhino has a candle for a horn. Or maybe it's a hippo with a candle on its snout. Anyway, it answers a phone call.



Betty gets a call as she’s single the title song. She heads to the mine shaft via a dumb waiter. It is appropriately named.



The rope holding the dumb waiter breaks. Nothing to worry about. It forms a hand and connects with itself.



The dumb waiter crashes down on Bimbo’s switchboard. They aren’t enforcing the Production Code yet, so we find Bimbo wearing Betty’s dress. He quickly tosses it over her.



Don Redman’s orchestra cooks along nicely in this short, animated by Willard Bowsky and Myron Waldman.

Mutiny on the Bunny Backgrounds

Paul Julian was a master of highlights and shadows in his background paintings for the Friz Freleng unit at Warner Bros.

Here is some of his work in Mutiny on the Bunny (released in 1950). First is a long background that was panned in the opening.



A few more. Some of Hawley Pratt's layouts have the audience look up at the action.



The short was copyrighted in 1948, so you can see how long it took for some cartoons to be released.

The Mayor Goes to Anaheim

Jack Benny and his writers knew when a running gag would work, and they generally stuck with it until it could get too stale.

Jack’s radio show got laughs with a train announcer calling passengers for Anaheim, Azusa and Cucamonga, so they kept doing it. Other radio shows picked it up. Jack Benny put Anaheim on the map long before Walt Disney or the American League.

Eventually, he has made an honorary mayor of all three cities. It was only appropriate, therefore, he should make a visit to one of his little burghs.

Anaheim had a weekly, six-page newspaper in 1947. The Gazette covered the Benny visit, unfortunately minus a cameraman. It really does strike me as small town, especially considering the acts that were lined up to appear with Jack. They even supplied a local townswoman on the piano to accompany him. This was published April 24, 1947.

Jack Benny Smiles Jokes Way Into Heart of Anaheim
Arriving in a blaze of ignition sparks and leaving in a burst of hilarity, as honorary mayor of Anaheim, Jack Benny of radio, Anaheim, Azusa and Cucamonga fame, made a memorable appearance as special guest speaker at the annual “kick-off” banquet for Civic Progress Week before 340 members of the Chamber of Commerce and friends Monday night. “His arrival was impressive but his speech was better” was the concensus of opinion.
An estimated throng of 1500 cheered the celebrity on as he was appropriately transported in a tour of the town in a 1906 vintage Maxwell roadster piloted by Superior Court Judge Raymond L. Thompson. His police escort roared to a stop before the crowded entrance to the Elks club while the Maxwell, raced and beaten by kids on bicycles, chugged amidst an explosion of flash bulbs.
Completely at ease, wearing big smile and a cigar, Benny stepped before the mike following the banquet. He regaled the packed audience with a full half hour of humorous reminiscences from an inexhaustable supply, wise-cracks, “lay-’em-in-the-aisle” ad-libs and stories of his cast, his life as an entertainer and Hollywood friends and “enemies.” He made special reference to his wife, Mary Livingstone’s sense of humor, and the peculiarities of Band Leader Phil Harris and Comedian Fred Allen. Usually trustworthy sources predict he will send recordings of his speech to Harris and Allen.
Following Benny’s side-splitting presentation, Emcee Whitey Roberts introduced three acts of top-notch vaudeville. Juggler-Clarinetist John Gailus balanced a rubber ball on his instrument while playing and operated a ‘puppet' chorus line simultaneously. Eddie and Lucille Burnett exhibited precision and perfect timing in a terrific tumbling act. The Four Guardsmen sang unique arrangements of old time songs, appearing for two encores.
With doleful mien, Roberts proved a quick-trigger wit and jack of many entertainment trades. He lured Robert Boney on the stage for a duo juggling act with green dishes which afterwards required a broom.
Clyde Nickles, versatile master of ceremonies, welcomed the en-enthusiastic banqueteers who packed the hall and introduced Robert Rossberg, president of the Anaheim Chamber of Commerce, who read the annual joint report to the city council, planning commission and service clubs.
Concluding in a lighter vein Telephone Company Manager Rossberg remarked “I’ve been at the switchboard down at the phone company so long my voice is changing”; to which Benny replied “If you’re going to be that funny, I’m getting out!”
Nickles then introduced Ernest Moeller, secretary-manager of the Anaheim Chamber of Commerce, who in turn, presented Benny.

Armed with a violin, the comedian climaxed his act by a traditional rendition of ‘‘Love in Bloom” indispersed with comments, “Well, if you really insist” . . . “Hey, wait for me” to his accompanist, Mrs. William Cook, then “Oh well, it’s the only one she knows’’ and “You thought I was going to be lousey [sic], didn’t you?”
A brilliant musical performance featured William Cook and the high school ensemble, interpreting well contrasted selections during the dinner hour. They also presented the fanfare for Benny’s entrance, “Love in Bloom,” ending on a “true blue” note.
Upon being presented the inscribed gavel as honorary mayor of Anaheim by Mayor Charles A. Pearson, Benny promised to try out the gavel by driving through town at 80 miles per hour.
Members of the Benny party introduced included his production director, Robert Ballin, and Mrs. Ballin, Hillyard Marks, his assistant production manager and Mrs. Marks, and Ned Moss, representing Steve Hannagan and associates, the Benny publicity agency.
Miss Phyllis Officer, newly selected Miss Anaheim, winner of the afternoon fashion show and beauty contest, was introduced. With several junior hostesses she posed with Benny following the affair.
Preceding the festivities, Rev. H.G. Schmelzer said grace, and Song Leader Joe Scholz directed “God Bless America.” He also led participants In the welcome song to Benny and the “Anaheimer Song.”
Flower festooned fish-net decked the walls of the great banquet room highlighted by palm trees (artificial) and Hawaiian hula beauties, also artificial. The stage was accented by forest scene viewed through flowers and butterfly scattered fish net. Spring flowers arranged by leading Anaheim florists graced the long banquet tables.
Concluding the “kick-off” banquet program, General Chairman Dick Gay thanked Jack Benny, the board of directors of the Chamber of Commerce and Chairman J. Ben Kaulbars; Everett Cone, show and entertainment chairman; the city council, the planning committee, the Young Ladies Institute for decorations, Whitey Roberts and the talented guest artists.
Arriving here on schedule at 6:30 o’clock, Benny was welcomed by Mayor Pearson and city officials at Center and Palm streets and escorted to Palm and Cypress streets where he climbed aboard the antiquated vehicle complete with the inscription “Jack Benny’s Maxwell” and an auxiliary lantern. His premier stop was at St. Catherines where' a swarm of youngsters sought his autograph. Collecting a bevy of bicycles, the gala caravan traveled to Palm and Center street to be greeted by a larger cheering crowd. Benny again developed writer’s cramp and cracked jokes. Alighting from the venerable limousine, he waved a friendly hand at the engulfing crowds before the Elks club.

Of course, the Anaheim, etc. gag petered out, but Jack still used it whenever he did a train station episode. The last time it was heard on radio was on his final broadcast on May 22, 1955. That wasn’t the end of it. The three cities jointly signed a Resolution of Appreciation to Jack upon his death in December 1974. And the gag became a piece of nostalgia, as Mel Blanc resurrected it when he did TV talk shows into the 1980s.

Silent Stars Meet a Silent Star

Cartoons in the Golden Age were stuffed full of celebrity caricatures. Disney did them. Warners did them. Columbia did them. The Marx Bros. Kate Hepburn. W.C. Fields. Lantz’s Oswald even met FDR.

The idea went back to the silent days. Felix the Cat went to Hollywood in 1923 and ran into Charlie Chaplin. But an even earlier cartoon was released by Fox in 1918 featuring a huge movie star. Theda Bara may have been Hollywood's first bad girl, using sex to woo men to horrible fates. As Hollywood tends to do, it built up a huge, bogus background for her. As it turned out, she was plain old Theodosia Goodman of Cincinnati. Whether audiences eventually found her attempts at sultriness too comical or they just tired of her, Theda flamed out before the silent era ended and other screen sirens took her place.

Mutt and Jeff were hugely popular on the newspaper comics page, created by Bud Fisher in 1907 and still lamely taking up print space into the 1980s. Fisher worked out a deal with Charley Bowers in 1916 to bring the characters to the big screen. Not long after, with Fisher overseas on war duty, Bowers signed a states-rights distribution with Fox. One of Fox’s stars was Theda Bara. It seems only natural the two would get together.

Motion Picture World printed this story on July 6, 1918.

Two Screens Involved in This Mutt-Jeff-Bara Comedy
A REAL life personage and cartoon characters meet and act together on the screen in the Mutt and Jeff animated cartoon, "Meeting Theda Bara," which is announced from the William Fox offices as one of the latest of Bud Fisher's creations.

The picture is described as one of the funniest this comedy pair have yet appeared in. Jeff inherits a fortune and Mutt decides that they are going to become motion picture producers. Their aim is to secure the services of a vampire. This ambition is inspired after Mutt and Jeff see Miss Bara in a picture. Jeff's admiration for Miss Bara leads him to serve notice on Mutt that any "vamping" for the Mutt and Jeff Motion Picture outfit must be done by Theda Bara. Mutt laughs and informs his diminutive friend that a contract holds Miss Bara to produce solely for the Fox Film Corporation. The pair then go about obtaining a vampire in a scientific way.
It doesn't take Mutt long to convince Jeff that it's the eyes that make the vampire. He learns, however, to his chagrin, that he was only partly right. Jeff makes up his mind that he will drop around and see Miss Bara, so he picks out the stage door of a moving picture theater as the logical place to find the famous star. Mutt sees him there and thinks it is a great joke. Later sitting in a gilded restaurant, Mutt is still laughing at the idea of Jeff waiting at the stage door of a moving picture theater. However, there are two sides of the story, and Mutt didn't know that Jeff's side of the story was hidden by a screen that surrounded the table next to Mutt. Mutt's curiosity prompts him to peer over the top of the screen. What he saw on the other side caused him a surprise that you will have to see the picture to appreciate.
Other most recent Mutt and Jeff productions are "The Extra Quick Lunch," "Life Savers" and "The 75-Mile Gun." In "The Extra Quick Lunch," the pair open a restaurant in which speed and economy are the watchwords. Life Savers" show them at the beach, and in "The 75-Mile Gun" they capture the German super-gun and train it on the Kaiser and Von Hindenburg, with results disastrous to the leaders of Prussian kultur.

Here’s how the trade paper’s Hanford C. Judson reviewed the short in the same issue:

PROBABLY as amusing as any of this famous cartoon series is "Meeting Theda Bara," in which Jeff, after getting an inheritance, goes into the motion picture business with Mutt and they look about for a good vampire. Of course, Theda is the ideal, and while they want her, Mutt knows that she is under con- tract and is not to be thought of. Jeff perseveres and Mutt gets a knockout when he finds Jeff and Theda very friendly and taking dinner together in a restaurant.

A newspaper syndicate released the following review (the Sunday Gazette of Atlantic City published it on June 30th):

FOR what is thought to be the first time in the history of motion pictures, a real life personage and cartoon characters meet and act together on the screen, in the Mutt and Jeff animated cartoon, Meeting Theda Bara, one of latest Bud Fisher creations. Jeff inherits a fortune and Mutt decides that they are going to become motion picture producers. Their aim is to obtain the services of a vampire. This ambition is inspired after Mutt aud Jeff have seen Theda Bara in a picture. Jeff's admiration for Miss Bara leads him to serve notice on Mutt that any "vamping" to be done in their pictures must be done by Miss Bara. The pair go about obtaining the services of Miss Bara in a scientific manner, and the adventures that befall them are said to make the picture the funniest this comedy pair have yet appeared in.

While Theda didn’t make it into the sound era, Mutt and Jeff did—in a way. In the 1930s, a number of the twosome’s shorts were colourised and had musical scores added to them. Then in 1973, it was done again by Fred Ladd, known for sending Warner Bros. and Fleischer cartoons to South Korea to be redrawn and splashed with colour for television, which was slowly getting out of the black-and-white business, with new musical backgrounds from various sources added.

If you're interested, here's a list of some of the other Mutt and Jeffs released around the same time. There was one a week.

MUTT AND JEFF ANIMATED CARTOONS.
Apr. 28— Helping McAdoo (Half-Reel).
May 6 — A Fisherless Cartoon (Half-Reel).
May 12 — Occultism (Half-Reel).
May 19 — Superintendents (Half-Reel).
May 26 — Tonsorial Artists (Half Reel).
June 2 — The Tale of a Pig.
June 9 — Hospital Orderlies.
June 16 — Life-Savers.
June 23 — Meeting Theda Bara.
June 30 — The Seventy-Five-Mile Gun.
July 7 — The Burglar Alarm.
July 14 — The Extra Quick Lunch.
July 21 — Hunting the U-Boats.
July 28 — Hotel de Mutt.
Aug. 4 — Joining the Tanks.
Aug. 11 — An Ace and a Joker.

To the best of my knowledge, no reels of Meeting Theda Bara exist.

The Mutt and Jeff story gets a little murky in the 1920s. Bowers made some more cartoons in 1925-26, distributed by Short Films Syndicate. But so did some of his cartoonists, such as Manny Gould and Burt Gillett, who formed their own studio. Check out some of the unrestored shorts courtesy of Cartoons on Film.

Plugging Paint

Friz Freleng made cartoons in time to symphonic music. So did Dick Lundy the same at the Walter Lantz studio. Naturally, this meant the studio that stole ideas from everywhere also gave it a try.

Thus it was that Connie Rasinski directed Paint Pot Symphony at Terrytoons.

This should have been a high point for the studio’s musical director, Phil Scheib. After all, Scheib was not only classically trained, he was a violinist. Unfortunately, the Zampa Overture (also used at Lantz) and some Strauss waltzes get mired down in typical Terrytoons arrangement with saxophones tooting away (Scheib told Gene Deitch this was something Paul Terry demanded). It doesn’t sound symphonic and there are no orchestral nuances like you’d find in a Carl Stalling/Milt Franklyn score or one by Darrell Calker at Lantz. I’ll bet Scheib would have loved to have worked with a full orchestra on this one.

Rasinski tries his best directing the Terry Trio, or whatever the three starring characters were called. He and whoever handled layouts go for angles and some perspective animation.

Writer John Foster tosses in his version of the plug-the-ears-to-stop-something gag. In Tex Avery’s Lucky Ducky, it was water. In this cartoon, it’s paint.



The cat's ears plug his ears.



With nowhere to go, the paint backs up into the can.



The cartoon was released in 1949, but I've seen ads for it playing in theatres in 1952. It was re-issued in 1956.

Silhouettes in a Storm

Silhoutte shots find their way into several scenes of Ub Iwerks' The Cuckoo Murder Case, released in 1930.

One involves Flip running toward a house, being scared by the face formed by the windows, and running away, only to be blown into the house by the winds.



Being a mystery, and the being the early 1930s, the cartoon includes a piano and a skeleton.

No animators are credited. Carl Stalling gets a screen mention for the score, which includes "The Year of Jubilo."

Give a Whit

How’s this for a cast—Cesar Romero, Sid Melton, Acquanetta, Whit Bissell and Hugh Beaumont?

They don’t make movies like them any more, do they?

But they did. This is part of the cast of the 1951 classic Lost Continent.

Whit Bissell seems to have been in every science fiction film ever made. Of course you know he appeared on the science fiction TV show The Time Tunnel. I’ve lost track of the other places I spotted him over the years. Someone, somewhere, I thought, must have interviewed him.

Well, the correct answer is “yes.” As a treat for all you Whit Bissell fans out there, I’m going to post a couple. This is from the Durham Morning Herald of Jan. 27, 1952.

In New York
‘Vastly Greater Opportunities'
By DON BISHOP
NEW YORK — Whit Bissell, a successful actor in theater, films and television who had his dramatic start with the University of North Carolina Playmakers, has ample reason for saying that New York offers vastly greater opportunities for his profession than Hollywood.
He was speaking of this city's control of television and its proximity to the training ground of the Summer theaters— and of what these two factors meant to beginning actors.
But he might also have been referring to New York as the mecca of seasoned character actors such as himself.
Bissell forsook Hollywood — for the moment at least — and came to New York in November 1951. Since then he has been in six video productions — or as many as was physically possible, rehearsal schedules being what they are. Bissell's first New York television assignment was in the soap opera "The Egg and I” in a role which is quiescent for the moment but which will be written into the script again.
Works Christmas
He was next in "Crime Syndicated," then in “Television Playhouse." He rehearsed all Christmas afternoon for "The Web," which went on the air the night after Christmas. Then followed a lead in "Out There," a science fiction drama, and another in “Studio One,” in which he was directed by former Carolina Playmaker Paul Nickell.
Recently Bissell has been in Florida shooting outdoor scenes for a drama on "The Big Story." The action Is supposed to take place In Niagara Falls, N. Y., but the producers of the program, in search of sunshine and a pack of bloodhounds to be used in the search for a killer, chose Tampa. The program will be presented Feb. 22.
Bissell came to television with a solid background in the movies, and, before that, considerable experience on the stage. He went to Hollywood shortly before his wartime service, was in "Destination Tokyo," and returned there after the war for good roles in such movies as "He Walked by Night,” "Brute Force," "Anna Lucasta,” "The Great Missouri Raid," and others.
Pictures Coming
Upcoming for release are M-G-M's "The Sellout," which stars Walter Pidgeon and John Hodiak, and Paramount's "Red Mountain,” which has Alan Ladd in it.
While still in private school in Connecticut, Bissell decided he wanted to be an actor. It was a sort of law of nature at his school that its students enrolled at Yale, Harvard or Princeton, and Bissell seemed headed toward Yale.
But the late Prof. George Pierce Baker, the eminent professor of dramatic art. told him that he should wait until his graduate study days before turning to his chosen field.
Bissell's impatience with such waiting dovetailed nicely with a report which his father, the late Dr. Dougal Bissell, brought him.
Dr. Bissell, a native of Charleston, S. C., and one of its most prominent citizens, who had migrated to New York eventually to become surgeon emeritus of the Woman’s Hospital, happened to stop off in Chapel Hill during a visit in the South.
No Waiting
Friends introduced him to Prof. Frederick H. Koch, who was doing great things with the famous Carolina Playmakers. The father reported to the son that Chapel Hill was a good place to go—and there'd be no waiting four years before he'd have opportunity to paint a piece of scenery or act a few lines.
Bissell enrolled at the University—and has the highest of praise for the grounding that it gave him in the theater. He was graduated in 1932 and was accepted for special training In Eva LeGallienne's Civic Repertory Theater. His first Broadway performance was in the "Hamlet" production which had John Gielgud as its star. Others included "Room Service" on tour, "As You Like It," "The American Way " and "Two on an Island.”
He met Adrienne Marden, who had a lead in “The Woman.” They were soon wed and started out their married life as the juvenile and ingenue leads in "The American Way." They now have two children, Kathy, seven years old, and Victoria, three.
Bissell hasn't decided whether he will make New York his home. He wants to see if television is going to take the trek to Hollywood that radio did.

Television moved to Hollywood and so did Bissell. This gave him a chance to appear in I Was a Teenage Werewolf, I Was a Teenage Frankenstein (with Phyllis Coates) and The Amazing Colossal Man (all 1957). His TV career was diverse, with guest shots on Peter Gunn, The Outer Limits and Petticoat Junction.

He also ran afoul of right-wing zealots. Bissell was one of dozens and dozens of actors who signed an ad in the Hollywood Reporter in 1947 denouncing the treatment of actor Larry Parks by a Committee in Washington, D.C. investigating Communists. (Among the other names were Jim Backus, Henry Morgan, Alan Reed and Howard Duff).

Bissell retired to the Motion Picture and Television Fund’s Country House and Hospital. Michael Arkush of the Los Angeles Times wrote a feature story on some of the people living there, including Bissell. This was published on Aug. 16, 1991 and was syndicated.

At 81, the face isn't familiar anymore. He plays all his scenes in slow motion these days. Without cameras.
Whit Bissell may be in retirement, but his five decades as an actor live on in celluloid. And in memories.
"I always wanted to be a character actor," said Bissell, who fulfilled his lifetime ambition in films such as "The Desperate Hours" (1955), "Gunfight at the OK Corral" (1957), "Creature From the Black Lagoon" (1954) and "The Manchurian Candidate" (1962). Many younger fans remember him best for his two-year stint as the general in the science-fiction television series "The Time Tunnel" (1966-67).
Going back in time still comes naturally to him. The scene is 1946. The war is over, but Bissell has a new battle—unemployment. Low on money and confidence, he is bailed out by his friend, veteran actor Fredric March, who won an Academy Award for "The Best Years of Our Lives."
It made Bissell's year too.
"He asked me if I could use any money," Bissell recalled. "And then he went into his den and handed me a $1,000 check. I damn near fainted. It was such a great gesture that I knew I could make it."
And he did. Bissell didn't conquer Hollywood; he survived it, which may be even more impressive. That includes blacklisting.
"For six months, I couldn't get a job," said Bissell, who was identified as a communist. "I was in a blind alley, and I didn't know what they were saying."
In 1954, Bissell bounced back in "The Caine Mutiny," working with Humphrey Bogart. He didn't retire until 1989. He developed tight friendships with some of Hollywood's elite, including John Gielgud and Bette Davis.
Bissell is still hard on himself.
"I'm not complaining, but I didn't stretch myself as an actor," said Bissell, who often played the mild-mannered authority figure. "I got stereotyped." (Ironically, though, perhaps his best-known movie role remains the mad psychiatrist who turns young Michael Landon into a beast in the 1957 cult favorite, "I Was a Teenage Werewolf.")
These days, Bissell is comfortable at the Woodland Hills facility. His health has dramatically improved since he became a resident two years ago. But something is missing.
"I'd like to have another good part," he said. "If anyone offered me a part tomorrow, I'd jump at it."

Bissell rested in retirement a few more years. He died in 1996. No doubt his cult films will live on, because they don’t make movies like them any more.

Black Beauty Explodes

The Happy Harmonies staff writers used venerable old “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” as a starting point for The Old Plantation (released Sept. 21, 1935).

There are a couple of gimmicks. For one, all the characters are actually children’s toys in a home. For another, Simon Legree is after the mansion of Colonel Julep who, after being threatened with foreclosure on his mortgage, decrees “Black Beauty must win the race!”

Race? What?!

Yeah, the second half of the cartoon involves a horse race around a race track that’s actually an oval throw rug. The implication is the prize money for a win will pay off the mortgage.

Black Beauty is a wind-up horse. Simon Legree steals its mechanical innards. When the race starts, a little girl doll, who is the jockey, realises something is wrong and loads the horse with fireworks to get it going.

Now we get effects animation. It is animated on ones, which must have consumed a lot of time. Try to ignore the digital fuzz in these frames.



Of course, Black Beauty must win. By a neck.



Scott Bradley digs out every possible clichéd song of the South, except “Dixie”—“Swanee River,” “My Old Kentucky Home,” “Camptown Races,” “Old Black Joe,” “The Year of Jubilo,” “Come Where My Love Lies Dreaming” and one about picking cotton, as we watch a perma-smiling mammy-type doing just that. And because a horse race is involved, he adds “The Old Grey Mare” and “Camptown Races.”

The cartoon was the first released by MGM in the 1935-36 season and the first to use full Technicolor. As usual, there are no screen credits.

Today's Inside Jokes

Since we had a Porky post a few days ago, let’s check out backgrounds from some early P. Pig Looney Tunes.



Here’s a delivery goat opening Porky’s Pet, a 1936 Jack King short. Like a Hanna-Barbera cartoon years later, he cycles past the same background several times. On the left, you see an ad for Burton’s Burpo Beer. Johnny Burton was an assistant animator at the studio who took over the whole operation when Eddie Selzer retired in March 1958. Burton was forced out a few years later and went into business with Mel Blanc.

On the right, we see the Bijou is featuring Millar’s Minstrels with Tambo Armstrong. Mel (Tubby) Millar should be familiar to Warner Bros. fans as a staff writer until the war years. “Tambo” Armstrong is Tom Armstrong, who was in charge of the story department. He lived at 1332 Van Ness; the studio was at 1351 Van Ness. Armstrong seems to have been unemployed for a bit after Warners and before heading to Disney. He was unemployed again in 1950.



In Tex Avery’s The Blow Out, there’s an “Orders” paper signed by Ralph Wolfe. He was another animator at Warners who never got credit and, at one time, wrote comic strips. Chuck Jones claimed his “Ralph Wolf” character who punched a time clock with Sam Sheepdog was named for him.



In the same cartoon, a background is quickly panned and unless you pause the film, you won’t get the gag. We all know what “Termite Terrace” was, but the poster also includes the name “Ralph Gibson.” Lo and behold, Ralph C. Gibson is in the city directory for 1936 as a cartoonist, living with his widowed mother. The following year, the directory has him as an artist. He was unemployed in 1940. Someone matching his name and date and place of birth was in a Los Angeles-area mental hospital in 1950. He had briefly escaped from the same hospital in 1944. Gibson could have been an in-betweener in Avery’s separated-from-the-main-lot unit.