Sunday, November 17, 2013

J. R. Williams: King of illustrated western humor



Rocinante!
J. R. Williams
King of illustrated western humor
By Stephen L. Wilmeth


            Every cowman should read J. Frank Dobie’s book, “The Longhorns.”
            That book exceeds insight into bovine behavior only by daily contact with cattle. Even then, Dobie sets forth characteristics we don’t see in our domesticated descendents. When he describes why the majority of brands were planted on left hips or the direction cattle will mill when they are finally held up from a run, he slaps you in the face with unexpected logic.
            He was interested in minutia. When he realized the difficulty of loading longhorn cattle in rail cars, he sought evidence of the actual techniques used. He found it illustrated in a hand drawn cartoon. It hung on a court house wall in Ft. Stockton. Dobie was fascinated. He contacted the artist and discovered a kinship of genius that, like him, transformed western life into snapshots of profound observation.
The cartoonist was James Robert Williams. His friends knew him as Jim, the public knew him as J.R., and forty million people knew him as the originator of the ‘Out our Way’ cartoon strip. Many believe he was … the greatest western cartoonist that ever lived.
Bull of the Woods
Jim Williams was a Canadian. He was born in Nova Scotia, but found himself in Detroit by age 15. At that time, he commenced an apprenticeship with a machinist that would have influence on him beyond a cursory understanding of the trade. Shortly thereafter, he ran away from home and spent several years drifting and acquired a similar understanding of being a cowboy.
He later joined the army and became a cavalryman when being in the cavalry put men astride horses on the basis of real time.
Following his military stint, he married and returned home. He went to work for a crane manufacturer. Among other things, he created covers for the company’s catalogs. Jim perfected the ability to transform daily occurrences into a unique art form. From the onset, he was cautious in allowing words to interfere with the genius of his pictures.
Those who know him can attest there was enough substance in his creations that the gist of the idea was created without words. In fact, rereading his cartoons in adulthood for the first time since childhood only offers more insight. ‘He slaps you in the face with unexpected logic.’
His earlier Bull of the Woods cartoons recreating the normal, daily lives of machinists were exactly the same as was his comic strip derived from his military experience. J. R. created snapshots of life from personal experiences.
Curly, Wes, Stiffy, Soda, Sugar, and Ick
The favorite for westerners living at the end of 16 miles of dirt road, though, was Out Our Way. Curly and the boys brought cowboys to life. Curly was the star. Making wages was only supplemental to his existence. Comparisons of his loyalty and practicality are exceedingly rare.
J.R. Williams & Lizard
In ‘The Specialist’, he is dressed for town driving the model A when he and Soda spot what they think is an unbranded yearling. Without hesitation, they leave the road, catch another gear and give chase.
“Thet looked like a Longear,” Curly observed. “Let’s make sure about it.”
“Yeah, let’s make shore,” Soda coolly responds.
Meanwhile, Sugar is in the back with a silent, smiling Wes. Sugar’s job description doesn’t call for such risks.
“Look here, you fellers … I’m a ‘gitten paid t’cook not to punch cows,” ‘la cocinero’ screams. “You git right back on the road t’town!”
Nobody but a cowboy would understand Curly’s immediate and single minded call to duty. Soda is complicitly involved, and Wes, fascinated by the course of events, cannot believe his luck. A cultured, eastern businessman, Wes eventually goes native and buys the ranch to go along with his adopted life style.
In ‘The Amateur’, the boys are in the bunkhouse and Soda is learning how to smoke a straight necked pipe. Never one to venture anywhere near lecturing or condescension, Curly plays off Stiffy to make his point. Stiffy, the old cowboy legend, is reading a paper while smoking his own, dropped stem pipe.
“Why ain’t you ever told Sody th’ advantages of a bent down pipe over them kind for a cowboy?” he prompts Stiffy.
“Me learn a feller his age anthin’? No!” Stiffy huffs. “He’ll go near blind tryin’ to see over it with sparks an’smoke in his eyes, and’ a hoss er’ calf knock thet stem out through th’ back of his neck fust.”
The look on Soda’s face assures the reader the point is made. It is made without making him mad or diminishing his stature. It was couched by two mentors who cared for him, but didn’t approve of his pipe or how he was going about smoking it.
Humor predicated on full engagement of the life they live, the characters create allegiance to their readers. Curly rode many a mile with me on my stick horses, and, later, some lessons remembered on some real ones.
Ick, the black cowboy, wasn’t black at all in the sense of modern interpretations.  He was a cowboy like the other boys. In ‘The Folder’, Curly has shed his leggin’s, jumper, and spurs and has pulled a loop snug around his waste ready to slither into a tight hole in the side of the creek bank. Ick has the rope tied hard and fast as he sits on his mule ready to perform.
“May be an old Indian silver mine”, Curly hopes. “If there’s a mountain lion ‘er bobcat in here, I’ll yell and you yank me out with that mule!”
Ick doesn’t like the looks of the setup, though … “Better tie it to yo’feet, Mist’ Curly,” he warns. “Dis way you is comin’ out doubled up!”
Humorous … Absolutely, it was humor without the trappings that killed most attempts at subsequent western cartoonery. With rare exception, those attempts started out with potential, but became hokey and tedious. The foundation of its enduring qualities came from how Jim Williams converted a life experience into a cartoon theme.
The real J.R. Williams
In each phase of his career, his work reflected his immediate surroundings. He didn’t invent a cartoon. Rather, he identified a moment of substance and recaptured it in cartoon form. The merit of the incident, interpreted by his dry sense of humor, was memorialized by his artistry. Nobody has ever done that better than Jim Williams.
In 1930, he moved to the body of work that is most precious to me. That was the year Jim bought his ranch near Prescott. In that setting, the characters came to life. The detail of authenticity is extreme. Early association type saddles, Arizona style batwing chaps, split reins with grazer bits, 3½” brimmed hats, and jumpers were standard fare. The hat mix included a few black hats among the younger cowboys, but silver bellies were standard. Wes, the once dude, was featured in a four point road master and only his belly tended to grow over time. The saddles were generally rigged full and double. If taps were present, they were bulldogs. Everybody wore long handles summer and winter. It was real stuff!
The curtain call
In the ‘Trade Secret’, Dobie revisits a Williams’ frame. Curly, with his tongue working lockstep with his grimace, has roped a wild steer in the brush and is snubbing him to a mesquite. Wes and Soda finally reach the scene. Wes is again disappointed he couldn’t witness the fete.
“Oh, you’ve got him tied up!” he is saying as much to himself as anybody. “I wanted to see that! Now, I know why there hasn’t been much written about real cowboying … It’s your only secret!”
A smiling Soda is trailing Wes and says, “Yea, Frank Dobie sez they punch a hole in the bresh an’ it closes up after ‘em an’ so does their mouth!”
When J. R. Williams sold his ranch and moved to California ‘for the duration’, a more central character was revealed. He first lived in a hotel before moving to the woods near San Marino. At one or the other, the incident with the coyote took place. Keeping pretty much to himself, Williams discovered a coyote coming in and looking for scraps to eat. “Gant and lank”, were his words describing the old coyote.
He had prosecuted the kinfolk of that old predator all the years he ranched, but he now found a kinship with the animal. He started leaving him food. It was their silent contract. When the coyote went missing, Williams found him … dead.
Bent over him, Williams cried like a baby.
For those with no ties to the life that created the likes of Curly and Stiffy, his reaction was surprising. For those of us who still laugh or get emotional over his cartoons … we understand fully.

Stephen L. Wilmeth is a rancher from southern New Mexico. “You wanta’ understand rancher psyche … you study J.R. Williams.”

The Westerner:  Here's some samples of J.R. Williams' Out Our Way.












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