Superman versus the Ku Klux Klan

by Richard Bowers

  With tension rising, Matt and Wilson struggle. Matt overpowers Wilson and, wild with fury, strangles the Imperial Mogul to death. Then Matt heads back to Metropolis to finish off his other enemies. In a moment of clarity the mad hatemonger realizes that the championship baseball game between Unity House and Metropolis High School is scheduled for the next day. That will give him an opportunity to dispose of three people who could testify against him. Chuck Riggs will be pitching for Unity House. Jimmy Olsen will be managing the team. And Mr. White will be in attendance to award a trophy to the winning team. Matt can wait to deal with Tommy Lee, who is in the hospital with the broken arm he suffered while escaping the Clan.

  Finally, the time comes for the thrilling conclusion. As the game begins, Matt is on a roof overlooking the field, clutching a high-power rifle with a telescopic sight. He plans to kill Chuck, Jimmy, and Mr. White with three successive shots. Fortunately, Clark Kent is at the game and on the lookout for trouble. His x-ray eyes notice a glint of light coming from the nearby rooftop. Turning into Superman and flying faster than the speed of light just as Matt squeezes the trigger, he deflects all three bullets from their targets, flies to the roof, captures Matt, and hands him over to the police. “Three strikes and you’re out,” he tells Matt. The Unity House team wins the championship game, and Mr. White awards a golden baseball to Chuck—the winning pitcher. Then everyone heads to the hospital to award a duplicate trophy to Tommy.

  Metropolis is safe.

  The Clan of the Fiery Cross is finished.

  * CHAPTER 18 *

  SUPERMAN, WE APPLAUD YOU

  “CLAN OF THE FIERY CROSS” was an unprecedented success. The increase in ratings solidified The Adventures of Superman as the undisputed leader in children’s radio. Praise poured in from such organizations as the United Parents’ Association and the Boys’ Clubs of America. When the National Conference of Christians and Jews presented Superman with an award, its vice president stated, “[We] want you, Superman, to know how grateful are all people of good will for your work in rooting out hatred.” The Radio Mirror published a full-page tribute to the Man of Steel, “because he has done so much to show folks how important it is to respect each other’s rights and to get along together.” Publicity chief Hal Davis of the K&E agency laid down a gauntlet to other children’s programs. “We think more shows should be doing this type of work,” he dared, as Bob Maxwell placed full-page ads in trade publications pro-claiming, “Here is the Nation’s Answer.”

  Newsweek declared, “Superman is the first children’s program to develop a social consciousness. Officials for both sponsor and network were relieved when the show’s plea for tolerance began attracting the highest ratings in the history of the series.” In the same Newsweek column, actor Bud Collyer officially revealed his dual identity as the voices of both Clark Kent and Superman, and he promised that the tolerance crusade would continue. Before long he would be urging groups of children to reject prejudice while on tour for the Anti-Defamation League.

  Writing in the New York World-Telegram on September 10, 1946, Harriet Van Horne noted, “[T]he youngsters find him more exciting than ever. The show’s rating goes steadily upward and the audience mail is unprecedented. Not only that Superman is receiving citations left and right from those who approve his brand new (but awfully busy) social conscience … It seems to me that Superman has something to say that parents, as well as kids, might well listen to.”

  NOT EVERYONE was thrilled, however. Anti-Semitic commentator Gerald L. K. Smith reportedly denounced Superman as “a disgrace to America,” while other columnists reported that Maxwell had received death threats from the New Jersey Klan. “But Maxwell is ignoring the letter,” one columnist reported, and “Superman is continuing the fight.” The Adventures of Superman announcer Jackson Beck later recalled, “The dangers were very immediate at the time. The real life Klan had already made strong inroads in New Jersey—just across the river from our studios. They were launching a major campaign at the time to get hold of kids and promote their narrow view of what they wanted society to be like.” KKK supporters in Atlanta orchestrated a phone-call campaign, generating complaints to the Mutual affiliate station in Atlanta and—according to some reports—calling for a boycott of Kellogg’s cereal. Kellogg’s stood by the programs and proudly announced, “Tolerance is breaking out all over Battle Creek.”

  In a three-part series in the Washington Post Sonia Stein underscored the praise and shrugged off the critics:

  Of all the late afternoon little dramas for little people, Mutual’s “Superman” had received most comment and most laurels—all in tribute to the year-old battle against intolerance … Superman’s move was brave and well-intentioned … and it did drive the Grand Dragon of the Ku Klux Klan to try to get the sponsoring product, Pep, banned from his town. But it’s doubtful that the results live up to the motivation.

  Later Josette Frank, speaking at a conference of educators and broadcasters, explained that the Superman producers had tried to avoid an entanglement with the KKK and its sympathizers. Noting that Mutual affiliates in several markets did receive complaints about “The Clan of the Fiery Cross,” she added that protests were small and came mostly from extremists. “When we attacked the Ku Klux Klan, for example, we got protests from a number of stations,” she told the educators and broadcasters. “We didn’t use a Negro. We used a Chinese boy, who simply introduced the problem of color. We hoped this would not offend the people in Atlanta but they were offended anyway, so it seems we needn’t have gone out of our way. I must say the Kellogg’s people backed it 100 percent and they resolutely refused to become disconcerted by the protests. Of course, by and large, there haven’t been many protests and most of them have clearly come from the lunatic fringe.” Miss Frank added that the response of children was inconclusive but rewarding: “There was the little Negro girl who said she found it very comforting to know that Superman was on her side.”

  In time the Anti-Defamation League stepped forward to make sure its man on the scene—or behind the scene—got credit. The ADL Bulletin of February 1947 reported, “It is now revealed that Superman’s informant was Stetson Kennedy, brilliant young Southern liberal who had joined the Klan and the (neo Nazi) Columbians under the assumed name of John S. Perkins. Nowadays Kennedy is telling the whole ugly story of racism in the South and its dollar hungry peddlers, who charged him $10 for a moth-eaten, second hand Klan uniform.”

  Kennedy even held a press conference in full KKK garb at the ADL offices in New York. His antics apparently did not sit well with Grand Dragon Green. An April 7, 1947, report by an unnamed KKK informant claimed that Green “circulated a picture of Kennedy and said his ass is worth $1,000 per pound.”

  And in response to the rank and file’s criticism of “failing to provide floggings, cross burnings, etc in ’47,” the Grand Dragon promised “a hot year in ’48 if they could catch the spies.”

  Over the years that followed, Kennedy and other infiltrators redoubled their efforts, and the negative press continued to flow. By 1948 the Klan had become a kicking dog for a host of enemies. The governor of Florida responded to a KKK parade by calling the marchers “hooded hoodlums and sheeted jerks.” And Time magazine reported that “a bigoted little obstetrician named Samuel Green” was becoming desperate to “prove to everybody that his movement wasn’t on the skids.” Time also noted that Green was under withering attack from such powerful opponents as the Junior Chamber of Commerce and a local group of churchwomen.

  Despite a 1,500-guest birthday party for Samuel Green and despite Green’s claims (reported by infiltrators) that he had 5,000 requests from all over the country to open KKK chapters, the talk of revival turned out to be just that—talk. The secret order was riddled with infiltrators, hounded by investigators, buried in bad press, and out of step with the modern mainstream of America.

  IN JULY 1949, a Nation magazine reporter interviewed Green about the state of the Klan. Responding to the question of w
hy the KKK always wore disguises, Green replied with a bizarre line: “So many people are prejudiced against the Klan these days.”

  In August 1949, Grand Dragon Samuel Green retired to his rose garden and died a quiet death. His passing threw the already compromised organization into complete disarray. There was no heir apparent with Green’s background, oratory prowess, or organizational skills, and the KKK once again splintered into a disconnected set of competing factions. It would rise again, but for now, at least, it seemed that truth, justice, and the champion of the oppressed had won. The long-awaited national Klan revival would not happen, although the organization once again went underground and continued with its hateful ways in the shadows of American life.

  IT’S TEMPTING to give Superman, along with the infiltrators who fed the Superman team the information, the main credit for the failure of the 1947 KKK revival. It makes a great story. But reality is, as usual, more complicated. The pressure of federal and state prosecutors, the reporting of crusading journalists, and the tenacious work of private watchdog groups such as the ADL provided the real muscle for the attack on the Klan. In addition, in the 1950s the ADL succeeded in getting many states to pass laws that prohibited the wearing of masks in public demonstrations. That way authorities could arrest Klansmen at their own gatherings. But the Superman radio campaign did mark an important milestone.

  “The Clan of the Fiery Cross” showed children—and adults—all over the country the deep-seated prejudice that fueled the KKK’s mission and the greed for money that motivated its leaders. And the show’s use of satire and ridicule set the stage for others to use those weapons against the Klan. In years to come, national news broadcasters would invite hooded wizards and dragons onto their interview shows and let their ridiculous outfits and convoluted logic speak for themselves. Comedian Dick Gregory would develop a stand-up comedy routine ridiculing the Klan. It included this line: “A Klanner is a cat [slang for man] who gets out of bed in the middle of the night and takes his sheet with him.”

  The very fact that a kids’ radio show could take on the dread leaders of the most persistent, most frightening homegrown hate group in the history of the United States spoke volumes about the standing of the KKK and the changes in U.S. society. In the wake of a war against one of the most evil racist organizations in history, the majority of people of all walks of life related more to a mythical superhero than to hooded vigilantes preaching superiority of one race over another.

  OUT OF THE CLASH between the Man of Steel and the men of hate rose a legend, which took on a life of its own and proved as lasting as some of the folklore Stetson Kennedy recorded on his trips through the American South in the 1930s. This new folklore was apparently introduced by Kennedy, promoted by the Superman producers, and first published by Thomas Whiteside in the New Republic in 1946. Whiteside reported that the Superman radio show caused “a considerable amount of bad feeling among the Ku Klux Klan by mentioning various KKK code words.”

  Whiteside’s article explained how “the code words had been passed on to Superman, via the Anti Defamation League, by Stetson Kennedy, an interloper from the newspaper PM. As a result Samuel Green, Grand Dragon of the KKK, had to spend part of his afternoon with his ears pressed against the radio.” According to Whiteside, “As soon as Superman used a KKK code word,” Green would have to notify the entire Klavern that the secret word had been compromised by a kids’ radio show. Kennedy embellished the story even more in his 1954 book I Rode with the Ku Klux Klan (later retitled The Klan Unmasked), and it was soon picked up by a number of articles and books on both Superman and the Ku Klux Klan. It has been repeated ever since.

  As anyone who listens to the radio shows (now available online) can tell, the myth is not true. There were no KKK code words mentioned in the series. There is evidence that Kennedy passed KKK code words on to news broadcasters, and the revelations may have irritated the Klan, but they were never aired in the Superman series. But the story has persisted, and in its own way it has served a purpose. Just as the show exposed the inner workings of the KKK to a generation of children, the myth has taught generations of people to see the KKK as foolish children playing a game of clubhouses and costumes and code words.

  AFTER “THE CLAN OF THE FIERY CROSS,” the Superman radio show team broadcast two more series that pitted the Man of Steel against hate groups. But Superman’s attacks on hooded Klansmen and neo-Nazis thugs finally ran their course, and the writers and producers moved on to new adventures and new villains. In the ensuing years, as times changed, Superman changed with them. New writers, illustrators, and producers introduced new enemies, allies, and story lines. Over the years Superman has embodied the cultural reality of the times.

  In the 1940s, when Superman teamed up with Batman, Robin, Wonder Woman, and Captain America, he taught his legions of fans how cooperation and teamwork transcended selfishness. He changed—in the more conservative 1950s—from the “champion of the oppressed” to defender of “the American way,” supporting the police and the political establishment. When he retreated to his Fortress of Solitude in the Arctic, he showed us the restorative power of contemplation and the importance of knowing ourselves. His lifelong passion for and eventual marriage to Lois Lane served up a powerful lesson in love—and persistence. His refusals to join his archenemy Lex Luthor in a life of crime taught us the importance of resisting temptation and remaining true to our beliefs.

  Our hero’s split personality—that vast gulf between the milquetoast persona of Clark Kent and the supreme confidence of Superman—represented the full potential inherent in all human beings. It made us feel that we too could shed our day-to-day exteriors to reveal the real hero within. And Superman never let us forget that he was on our side. At the end of the 1978 film Superman: The Movie, he delivers Lex Luthor to prison. When the warden thanks him for making the country safe again, Superman utters these closing words:

  Don’t thank me, Warden.

  We’re all part of the same team.

  And it is still so. In fact, the current Superman remains true to Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster’s original intent. In 2011, in Action Comics #900, Superman announces his intention to give up his U.S. citizenship, triggering waves of controversy and comment in newspapers, in magazines, and on the Internet. In that story line Superman faces the wrath of the U.S. government for supporting protesters demonstrating against the totalitarian regime in Iran. Deciding that it is more important to stand for principle than to serve any one government, the character returns to his confrontational style of the late 1930s and declares himself a citizen of the entire world.

  To this day Superman has retained his place as the king of the superheroes, conquering the bad guys in comic books, TV shows, movies, and video games. He remains an all-powerful alien who stands guard against threats to human dignity and freedom and always shows us the best in ourselves.

  * AFTERWORD *

  WHAT HAPPENED TO THEM?

  SUPERMAN went on to become the centerpiece of his own TV series, books, records, movies, video games, and even a rap song by Eminem. Through the years his superpowers ebbed and flowed, as did his cast of comic costars, which came to include Superboy, Supergirl, and Krypto the Superdog. Starring Christopher Reeve, the 1978 film Superman: The Movie launched a silver-screen Superman revival that continues to this day. A brilliant blend of creative storytelling and aggressive marketing, Superman remains the undisputed king of the superhero genre.

  JERRY SIEGEL AND JOE SHUSTER sued DC Comics in 1947 for $5 million and a share of the rights to Superman. The courts ruled that Siegel and Shuster had given up any claim to ownership by assigning the rights to DC back in 1938. Joe and Jerry walked away with a $100,000 settlement (most of which went to cover legal costs) but were no longer credited as the creators of Superman. After a number of years of estrangement, Jerry divorced his first wife, Bella, in 1947. Later that year he married Joanne Carter, an actress from his hometown. Carter had once posed as a model for the Lois Lane ch
aracter in the late 1930s.

  After their departure from DC Comics, Jerry and Joe struggled to earn a living in comic books. They grew increasingly bitter and more destitute. In 1975 Siegel launched a publicity campaign to raise awareness of the case, and DC’s parent company, Warner Communications, guaranteed both Jerry and Joe pensions of $35,000 per year for life and restored their standing as the creators. Joe Shuster died a lifelong bachelor on January 30, 1992. Jerry Siegel died on January 28, 1998. Their survivors continue to fight for a greater share of the proceeds from Superman.

  ROBERT MAXWELL continued to produce the Superman radio show until it ended in 1951. He followed that successful run by creating the Adventures of Superman television series. The tough, realistic, dramatic Superman that Maxwell brought to TV was aimed more at adults than at the previous juvenile audience of the radio program or comic books. Maxwell left the TV series after 26 episodes and went on to launch other television programs, including the hit shows Lassie, National Velvet, Cannonball, and Father of the Bride. He died on February 3, 1971, at age 63.

  STETSON KENNEDY continued his work as a writer, organizer, and agitator. He ran unsuccessfully as a write-in candidate for governor of Florida in 1951, when his friend and frequent houseguest Woody Guthrie wrote a campaign song titled “Stetson Kennedy.” During the McCarthy era he came under the scrutiny of the House Un-American Activities Committee and left the United States to travel the world. He spent several years in Europe and spent time behind the Iron Curtain. While abroad he published a book entitled I Rode with the Ku Klux Klan, which later was rereleased as The Klan Unmasked. In the book he dramaticized his role as an infiltrator, crediting himself with work others—including John Brown—had done. He also added specific scenes and dialogue that he had not witnessed. When asked later why he did this, he told interviewers—including myself—that he was protecting the anonymity of these sources, whose lives would have been endangered if their roles were revealed; he also said that he wanted to give the book the air of a novel for maximum effect.