Hope in a yellow hat
When America needed a hero, Okie-born cartoonist delivered
Photo courtesy of the Chester Gould Dick Tracy Museum
When my parents think of Warren Beatty, they hear the gunshots ringing out at the end of “Bonnie and Clyde.” For me, Warren Beatty will always be Dick Tracy.
The yellow trench coat, that walkie-talkie wristwatch, the whole package. Dick Tracy sauntered into my life just as I was about to turn 10 — double digits, a big summer for me. In the wake of Tim Burton’s re-envisioned Batman the summer prior, the world was ready for another over-the-top, cartoonish, colorful comic-book world. Though new to me, I had no idea that this square-jawed private eye was nearly 60 years old. I’d never heard of Chester Gould.
Truly a 20th-century Man, Gould was born in Pawnee on Nov. 20, 1900, nearly a decade to the day before statehood. For college he headed to Stillwater and enrolled at Oklahoma A&M, now Oklahoma State University. He packed up and moved to Chicago not long after the start of Prohibition.
My grandfather was a police officer in Chicago during this turbulent time. He passed away before I was born, but my father passed on some of the stories, including my grandfather’s arrest of Al Capone. Don’t be too impressed. During this time almost every cop in Chicago arrested Capone at one time or another. It was a standing order of sorts.
This was the world that Pawnee’s own Chester Gould entered into. He stayed in the Windy City and was hired by William Randolph Hearst’s Chicago Evening American in 1931. Later that year, after soaking up the bullet-riddled, moonshine-soaked world of Chicago crime, a hardboiled detective named Dick Tracy debuted in the Detroit Mirror.
With the Great Depression in full swing and hope in short supply, America needed a hero. Superman wouldn’t be introduced until 1938. (Have you ever noticed that Dick Tracy and Superman look similar? I’m not saying it was intentional, nor is there any proof of direct influence, but it’s interesting nonetheless.)
Gould continued the strip until 1977. The following year, Gould was honored with a career-retrospective exhibition at the now-defunct Museum of Cartoon Art in Port Chester, New York.
It was nearly 30 years before Gould was recognized in his home state. He was inducted into the Oklahoma Cartoonists Hall of Fame in Pauls Valley in 2005.
It’s an hour’s drive east from Tulsa on Highway 412 to Pawnee, home of “Dick Tracy Headquarters,” inside the Pawnee County Historical Society. Stop into Kacie’s Diner for a piece of pie and a cup of black coffee. It’s what Dick would’ve done.
Gould at a Glance
“Big Boy” Caprice’s colorfully-named henchmen, Flattop and Larceny Lou, were, like their boss, inspired by real-life thugs.
A large mural in downtown Pawnee honors Gould and Tracy. One more reason to visit.
Warren Beatty spent well over a decade trying to secure the rights to make a Dick Tracy film. One of the roadblocks was Gould himself and his need to oversee and control the process. Before Beatty came on to direct and star, Steven Spielberg, Martin Scorsese, Clint Eastwood, and other prominent filmmakers considered taking on the project.