Chapter 13—The Secret Weapon (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14—Fighting Hate at Home (#litres_trial_promo)
PART FOUR—COLLISION
Chapter 15—Operation Intolerance (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16—Return to Stone Mountain (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 17—“Clan of the Fiery Cross” (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 18—Superman, We Applaud You (#litres_trial_promo)
AFTERWORD—WHAT HAPPENED TO THEM? (#litres_trial_promo)
BIBLIOGRAPHY (#litres_trial_promo)
SOURCES (#litres_trial_promo)
FROM THE AUTHOR
RESEARCHING AND WRITING Superman versus the Ku Klux Klan was like traveling back in time. To make the journey into the world of old superheroes, I pored through the vast archives of great libraries, universities, and the extensive personal compilations of dedicated comic book collectors and dealers. To track the birth and rebirths of the Ku Klux Klan, I studied the original writings of the first KKK supporters, the works of prominent historians, and the faded spy reports of anti-Klan infiltrators. I felt a great sense of excitement when these two powerful stories finally intersected at the Clan of the Fiery Cross—the 16-part Adventures of Superman radio show that pitted the Man of Steel against the men of hate. At that point the flow of history ran as strong and wild as the currents of two intersecting rivers. I’ll never forget the thrill of uncovering rare documents describing the extensive preparation the radio producers conducted to prepare for the controversial broadcasts. I’ll never forget the chills that ran through me while reading FBI-infiltrator reports of KKK meetings—reports capturing plans to attack and murder innocent people simply because of their skin color. Through all the historical files, infiltration documents, and interviews, I always sought to sort out myth from fact and capture the essence of truth. In the end I hope you enjoy reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I hope you find Superman versus the Ku Klux Klan both informative and interesting and that you, too, will one day embark on your own journey back in time.
This book would not have been possible without the support of many talented and dedicated friends and colleagues. The first thank you goes to my editor at National Geographic, Nancy Feresten, who suggested the original idea and guided the process from start to finish. Special thanks also to her talented editorial ace Kate Olesin, whose organizational skills kept the process moving forward even when it wanted to pause. Also special thanks to the librarians and researchers at the Library of Congress, the University of Minnesota’s Elmer L. Andersen Library, and the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture in New York. These diligent protectors of our shared history opened up archives and tracked down documents, helping me locate valuable papers that had been collecting dust for decades. Extra special thanks to professor Steven Weisenburger of Southern Methodist University in Dallas for sharing his files on the Ku Klux Klan infiltration in Atlanta as well as the infiltration of the neo-Nazi Columbians. His work dissecting the underlying ideology of home-grown fascism continues to provide essential awareness of the continuing threat. Also, enormous gratitude to the private collector who allowed us to photograph and share her glimpses of some of the most precious and important comic books in the world. And finally to all the family members and friends who listened to my stories, read the early versions, and shared their ideas, your support is cherished.
*PART ONE *
THE BIRTH OF SUPERMAN
In the early 1930s newspaper headlines told of the hardships of the Great Depression. Americans fortunate enough to have jobs fretted about losing them. Those who had lost their jobs often turned to breadlines and soup kitchens just to keep from starving. In Europe the desperate economic climate had given rise to fascist leaders who preached the superiority of a master race and advocated the elimination of all “inferior” races. In a tight-knit Jewish enclave in Cleveland, Ohio, a shy teenager was working on a solution. To his mind, the world needed a superhero.
* CHAPTER 1 *
KOSHER DELIS & DISTANT GALAXIES
WALKING DOWN THE HALLWAY of Glenville High, Jerry Siegel braced for another day of disappointment. It was only 8:30 in the morning, and the 17-year-old science fiction aficionado was already counting the hours to the final bell. The pretty girl with the long, brown hair and flashing eyes would no doubt turn away from his glances. The student editor of the award-winning school newspaper, the Torch, would probably reject his latest story idea. The swaggering guys on the football team and the cliquish cheerleaders on their arms would not even acknowledge his existence. At least after school Jerry could hustle to his house at 10622 Kimberly Avenue, bound up to his hideaway in the attic, pick up a science fiction magazine, and lose himself in a fantasy world of mad scientists and rampaging monsters, space explorers and alien invaders, time travelers and spectral beings.
Jerry loved science fiction. Ever since he was a kid he had buried himself in a new breed of magazines with titles like Weird Tales and Amazing Stories. Full of dense print and crude illustrations, these simple, low-budget publications were magic to him. The smudged type on that thin paper told stories of intergalactic warfare, futuristic civilizations, and brilliant new technologies that promised a brighter and better world.
These astounding tales were attracting a growing audience of teenage fans across the country. They referred to their magazines as zines and shared their reactions and ideas through the mail. For Jerry, zines were the ultimate escape from his humdrum existence at school and the tension at home with his mother, who constantly babied him and worried that he was too much of a dreamer to make it in a harsh world.
Jerry had to admit that his future did not look all that bright. Because he lacked the grades and the money to go to college, the world ahead often seemed as bleak as the coldest, darkest reaches of outer space.
Jerry Siegel was the youngest of six children born to Mitchell and Sarah Siegel. Like so many other Jewish immigrants, Mitchell and Sarah had fled persecution in Europe to build a new life in America. After arriving from Lithuania, the couple had changed their name from Segalovich to fit in more easily in their adopted homeland. At first Mitchell worked as a sign painter and dreamed of becoming an artist. But with a growing family to support, jobs scarce, and money tight, he gave up his dream of painting beautiful works of art. Instead he opened a haberdashery, or secondhand-clothing store, near the factories in the old Jewish ghetto of Cleveland. Mitchell worked long hours, saved his money, and eventually moved the family out of the ghetto and into a comfortable, three-story, wood-frame house in Glenville, a close-knit neighborhood of nice homes, spacious front porches, and big backyards. Set amid rambling green hills and gurgling streams that meandered to Lake Erie, Glenville was the American dream come true for its tens of thousands of Jewish residents.
Glenville was also a protective cocoon for those residents—a safe haven from the prejudice that lurked just outside its borders. Sure, there were plenty of good, hardworking Christian people out there, but some Christians called Jews insulting names like kike and hebe and instructed their children to stay away from those kinds of kids. The classifieds in the Cleveland Plain Dealer were filled with job ads bluntly stating “No Jews Need Apply.” Country clubs in exclusive neighborhoods refused to accept Jewish members. There were even hate groups that called for the kinds of mass-removal programs that the Siegels thought they had escaped when they left Europe. In fact, Jews could simply turn on their radios to hear the Radio Priest, Father Charles Coughlin, spew anti-Semitic tirades from the National Shrine of the Little Flower Parish in Royal Oak, Michigan, just 180 miles from Glenville. A frequent speaker at mass rallies in Cleveland, Coughlin organized his most loyal followers into Christian Front organizations to oppose equality for Jewish Americans.
As the Great Depression wreaked economic havoc on the nation, another frightening fringe organization was becoming more and more active. With unemployment at a record high and clashes between striking workers and employers turning into bloody melees, the Ku Klux Klan (KKK) sought to exploit public fear. Preaching a gospel of racism and religious intolerance, the KKK called upon white protestant men to band together to fight the Jew’s demand for social acceptance, the Negro’s plea for just treatment, and the immigrant’s call for decent jobs and fair pay. To keep up with the times, this secret society of hooded vigilantes had expanded its traditional hate list from Negroes, Jews, and Catholics to include union organizers, liberal politicians, civil rights advocates, crusading journalists, and supporters of the New Deal—President Franklin Roosevelt’s program to restore the economy by putting people to work. As tensions rose, new recruits came forward to join the nation’s most militant defender of white protestant rule. Although the KKK recruited only members who were white and protestant, it boasted of standing for the principle of “100 percent Americanism.”
On summer days the streets of Glenville buzzed with kids riding bikes, skipping rope, and playing stickball or hide-and-seek. On summer evenings teenage boys and girls walked hand in hand down the sidewalks, and gaggles of kids hung out on spacious front porches, told jokes, flirted, and talked about the future. Throughout the week pedestrians flowed down lively East 105th Street, where Solomon’s Delicatessen piled corned beef and pastrami high on fresh rye bread and Old World restaurants served classic European fare like brisket, cheese blintzes, matzo ball soup, and lox and bagels. On Saturdays, worshippers flocked to more than 25 synagogues, the men wearing the traditional yarmulke to cover their heads and the women dressed in the fashions of the day. The jewel of Glenville was the grand Jewish Center of Anshe Emeth (a synagogue) at East 105th and Grantwood Avenue, a modern building with a sculpture of the Star of David crowning its roof. It was the central gathering place for the community—the place to go to shoot basketball, to swim laps, or to take classes on subjects ranging from Hebrew tradition to American culture. By the early 1930s more than half of Cleveland’s Jewish population lived in Glenville, and more than 80 percent of the 1,600 kids at Glenville High were Jewish.
JERRY SIEGEL WAS DIFFERENT from most of the other kids in Glenville. While they were playing ball in the street, shooting hoops at the community center, or shopping on 105th Street, Jerry was holed up in the attic with his precious zines. He also loved to take in the movies at the Crown Theater, just a couple blocks from his house, or at the red-carpeted and balconied Uptown Theatre farther up 105th. Scrunched in his seat with a sack of popcorn in his lap and his eyes fixed on the screen, he marveled as the dashing actor Douglas Fairbanks donned a black cape and mask to become the leaping, lunging, sword-wielding Zorro. Jerry admired Fairbanks and all the other leading men—those strong, fearless, valiant he-man characters who took care of the bad guys and took care of the gorgeous women too. Jerry worshipped Clark Gable and Kent Taylor, whose names he would later combine to form Clark Kent.
Jerry usually sat in darkened theaters alone as he absorbed stories, tracked dialogue, and marveled at the characters. After the movies he would walk to the newsstands on St. Claire Avenue to pick up a pulp-fiction novel or a zine. Soaking in every line of narrative and dialogue, he would read the books and magazines cover to cover—then read them again. Turning to his secondhand typewriter, he would dash off letters to the editors, critiquing the stories and suggesting themes for future editions. He would scour the classified sections for the names and addresses of other science fiction fans and send them letters in which he shared his ideas for stories, plots, and characters. For kids like Jerry, science fiction provided a community—a network of fans bound together by a common passion.
One of Jerry’s favorite books was Philip Wylie’s Gladiator. Initially published in 1930, it was the first science fiction novel to introduce a character with superhuman powers. Jerry moved through the swollen river of words like an Olympian swimmer, devouring the description of the protagonist, Hugo Danner, whose bones and skin were so dense that he was more like steel than flesh, with the strength to hurl giant boulders, the speed to outrun trains, and the leaping ability of a grasshopper. Danner’s life is a tortured pursuit of the question of whether to use his powers for good or evil. That made Jerry think about how hard it was to choose right over wrong.
Then there was that unforgettable image of the flying man—the one he had seen on the cover of Amazing Stories. Jerry would hang on to that image for the rest of his life. The flying man, clad in a tight red outfit and wearing a leather pilot’s helmet, soared through the sunny sky and smiled down on a futuristic village filled with technological marvels. From the ground, a pretty, smiling girl waved a handkerchief at the airborne man and marveled at his fantastic abilities. In this edition of Amazing Stories Jerry saw a thrilling new world of scientific advances and social harmony—a perfect green and sunny utopia to be ushered in by creative geniuses with more brains than brawn, more natural imagination than school-injected facts, more good ideas than good looks. Jerry wanted to help create that utopia. Luckily, he had a partner in his quest.
* CHAPTER 2 *
KINDRED SPIRITS & CREATIVE FORCES
JOE SHUSTER WAS A fellow science fiction fanatic, a talented illustrator, and another skinny, bashful kid with thick glasses and no girlfriends. Jerry and Joe were kindred spirits and tireless collaborators. Sequestered in an attic work space after school and on weekends, the boys spent hours talking about science fiction, conjuring up story ideas, and drawing illustrations. Over time they would create a world of mad scientists and futuristic space travelers, smooth-talking detectives and supernatural beings. Although he could draw a bit, Jerry generally took the role of writer, his more assertive personality driving the action. Writing in pithy sentences that could be squeezed into small narrative boxes and thought bubbles, he would conjure the concept, plot the story line, and develop the narrative. As the illustrator, Joe would envision the characters and scenes and then put pencil to paper as he brought the characters to life on cheap, brown butcher paper laid across his mother’s favorite cutting board.
Early in 1932 Jerry and Joe went to work on their own typewritten magazine titled Science Fiction: The Advanced Guard of Future Civilization. Once they had their densely typed, roughly illustrated master copy in hand, they dashed off to the library to mimeograph copies and began mailing them to fellow fans within the free-ranging science fiction network. Science Fiction would also be sent to the publishers of the best zines, in hopes that one of them would purchase a piece of content, or, at least, recognize the talent of the young creators.
The third edition of Science Fiction featured a story entitled “The Reign of the Super-Man,” in which a bald, diabolical chemist sets out to use a substance derived from a meteor to turn himself into an evil genius with the power to dominate the world. Although most of the stories in Science Fiction were written by Jerry and illustrated by Joe, “The Reign of the Super-Man” was signed with the byline Herbert Fine. The two amateurs probably thought the pen name was a professional touch that would create the illusion that there was another writer in their limited stable of contributors. Plus, it added a bit of protection against any prejudiced publishers who might like the story but suspect that the writers were Jewish based on their real names.
Jerry and Joe’s “The Reign of the Super-Man” played off the grim realities of the Great Depression. In the story, treacherous Professor Smalley lures destitute, homeless men from soup kitchens to serve as guinea pigs for his hideous experiments: “With a contemptuous sneer on his face, Professor Smalley watched the wretched unfortunates file past him. To him, who had come of rich parents and had never been forced to face the rigors of life, the miserableness of these men seemed deserved.”
It was a good tale, but it was not the page-turner the duo had hoped for. What was it? Jerry and Joe would tackle that question later. The pair were in what should have been their last year at Glenville High, and the world of work was looming ahead—although they would both end up repeating that year because they lacked the grades to graduate.
In addition to hanging out with Joe, Jerry loved to spend time with his dad, Mitchell, who supported his youngest son’s creative endeavors. Maybe this support stemmed from Mitchell’s own abandoned dream of being a painter. Or perhaps he was just going easier on his youngest child than he had on the others, who had been expected to work part-time at the haberdashery, to do well in school, and to prepare to find good jobs (the boys) or good husbands (the girls). Then, in an instant, the family’s life changed forever.
On June 2, 1932, just after closing time, a neighboring merchant noticed that the haberdashery’s door was ajar. The interior lights were on, but Mitchell Siegel was nowhere in sight. The concerned shopkeeper pushed open the door and found Mitchell sprawled on the floor behind the counter—dead. The money in the cash register was gone, as were the three thugs who had robbed him. Initial police reports suggested that Siegel had been shot in the chest and found in a pool of blood behind the cash register. The coroner’s report later amended the scenario: Mitchell had suffered a fatal heart attack during the robbery. Either way, the Siegel family would never be the same.
Jerry’s mother fell into a deep depression. Her message to the children was cold and absolute: Never mention the robbery to anyone. All that the neighbors needed to know was that their father had died of a heart attack. Period. Relatives flocked to Sarah’s side, tried to console the kids, made sure that the bills were paid, and shook their heads over the tragedy. With the Great Depression bearing down, Mitchell’s income gone, and money tighter than ever, the family did the best they could. Devastated by the loss of his dad, Jerry withdrew even more into his science fiction world.
But a fire burned within him. He was more determined than ever to make it in the publishing business. He would work tirelessly to honor the memory of his hardworking father. He had no way of knowing that success was not far beyond the horizon. The shy, grieving, self-conscious, seemingly powerless teen could not foresee that his imagination would conjure up a muscular, all-powerful, super human who could deflect bullets, bend steel in his bare hands, soar into the sky, and protect the little guy from thugs and hoodlums like those who had caused his father’s death.
* CHAPTER 3 *
THE MAGIC OF THE MIX
BY 1934 NEWLY MINTED high school graduates Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster were operating their own comic art business. While their fellow Glenville graduates were taking introductory philosophy classes on college campuses, operating drill presses in factories, or searching for any work they could find, these offbeat science fiction devotees were pitching their ideas to professional editors and publishers. Fancying himself the business brains of the two-man outfit, Jerry took the lead in managing the enterprise. Concepts for new characters had to be put down on paper and sent out. Push. Letters had to be written to editors and publishers looking for content. Push. Push. Their primary targets were the syndicates that distributed comic strips to newspapers and the companies that were introducing a new kind of publication: comic books.
Jerry and Joe’s story of the Super-Man—that diabolical scientist who conducted gruesome experiments on unsuspecting homeless men—was still incubating in their minds. Then, according to Superman lore, late one night in the summer of 1934, the answer hit Jerry like a lightning bolt. They had it backward. The world had no need for an evil superman. The world needed a good superman—a trustworthy and powerful ally who would come to the rescue of regular people by protecting them from ruthless criminals, cheating businessmen, and corrupt politicians. With millions of people out of work, the streets full of crime, the stock market in ruins, and a war brewing in Europe, readers were starved for hope, inspiration, and a sense of power. A good superman could provide all that.
ACCORDING TO THE LORE, the essence of the character—the one the world would come to know—flashed into Jerry’s mind that restless night with the force of one of those sci-fi meteors crashing to Earth. In point of fact, the epiphany of the good superman sparked a long collaboration that would lead to the iteration of the character known today. The day after the epiphany, Jerry ran to Joe’s house, and the two began evolving the basic story line of the good superman. The next full-fledged version came several months later with the creation of an all-too-human hero the collaborators modestly dubbed “The Most Astounding Fiction Character of All Time!” This superman was strong, agile, and heroic but lacked extraordinary superpowers that would differentiate him from other heroes.
The few publishers who considered the proposal rejected it. Frustrated with the failure, Joe went into a rage and began destroying the manuscript. Jerry intervened but managed to save only the cover. The cover, showing the Superman leaping at a gun-wielding thug, was eerily reminiscent of Mitchell Siegel’s death. Still not quite right. The work continued.
As the writer, Jerry took the lead in developing the now-classic story line that finally emerged. Superman is born on the planet Krypton. His scientist father places him in a small rocket ship and launches him toward Earth just moments before Krypton erupts in devastating earthquakes and explosions that kill all the inhabitants. The spacecraft lands on Earth, where people discover the baby and take him to an orphanage in a small midwestern town. A family named Kent adopts him, gives him the name Clark, and raises him on a farm. After realizing the possibilities of his superhuman powers, Clark moves to the big city of Metropolis and becomes a reporter for a great metropolitan newspaper.
In times of trouble Clark sheds his street clothes and peels off his glasses to become Superman. He uses his powers to leap great heights, to hoist huge weights, to deflect bullets, to soar into the sky, and to subdue criminals. His only motives are to protect the innocent, to bring the guilty to justice, and to crusade for a better world. After saving the day, Superman returns to his guise as the mild-mannered Clark, who works at the newspaper with a gutsy “girl reporter” named Lois Lane. But Lois has little time for bespectacled, nerdy Clark. She only has eyes for Superman.
Sensing that the character was special, the two creators worked feverishly to fill in the details of his persona. Before long the full picture was on the page. Superman had his rugged good looks, his shock of blue-black hair, his muscular physique, his flowing red cape, and the bold S insignia on his chest. Joe designed his uniform as a cross between a spaceman suit and a classic circus performer outfit—down to the blue tights, red shorts, and cape. He skillfully captured each of Superman’s actions in single comic panels: the caped crusader raising his arms toward the heavens, leaping off the ground with incredible strength, soaring upward at supersonic speed, and landing with both feet firmly planted on the ground. The Man of Steel—also called the Man of Tomorrow in those early days—stands tall, hands on his hips, bullets bouncing off his chest, as befuddled, gun-packing gangsters fire shot after harmless shot. In time the classic image would evolve: The handsome, smiling superhero would save Lois Lane from all kinds of danger, hoist her in his arms, soar over the flickering lights of Metropolis, and deliver her safely home.