Search the Western Clippings Site

An Interview With…
        - Archives

Will "Sugarfoot" Hutchins
    - January 2018
    - September 2017
    - August 2017
    - July 2017
    - May 2017
    - April 2017
    - January 2017
    - December 2016
    - October 2016
    - September 2016
    - August 2016
    - July 2016
    - May 2016
    - March 2016
    - February 2016
    - January 2016
    - December 2015
    - November 2015
    - September 2015
    - August 2015
    - July 2015
    - May 2015
    - April 2015
    - March 2015
    - February 2015
    - January 2015
    - December 2014
    - November 2014
    - October 2014
    - September 2014
    - August 2014
    - July 2014
    - May 2014
    - April 2014
    - March 2014
    - February 2014
    - January 2014
    - December 2013
    - November 2013
    - October 2013
    - September 2013
    - August 2013
    - July 2013
    - June 2013
    - May 2013
    - April 2013
    - March 2013
    - February 2013
    - January 2013
    - December 2012
    - November 2012
    - October 2012
    - September 2012
    - August 2012
    - July 2012
    - June 2012
    - May 2012
    - April 2012
    - March 2012
    - February 2012
    - January 2012
    - December 2011
    - November 2011
    - October 2011
    - August 2011
    - July 2011
    - June 2011
    - May 2011
    - April 2011
    - March 2011
    - February 2011
    - January 2011
    - December 2010
    - November 2010
    - October 2010
    - September 2010
    - August 2010
    - July 2010
    - June 2010
    - May 2010
    - April 2010
    - March 2010
    - February 2010
    - January 2010
    - November 2009
    - October 2009
    - September 2009
    - August 2009
    - July 2009
    - June 2009
    - May 2009
    - April 2009
    - March 2009
    - February 2009
    - January 2009
    - December 2008
    - November 2008
    - September 2008
    - August 2008
    - June 2008
    - April 2008
    - March 2008
    - February 2008

Do You Remember?
    - Archives

Comic Book Cowboys
    - Archives

Westerns of...
    - Archives

Heavies and Characters
      - Archives

The Stuntmen - Neil Summers
    - Archives

Western Treasures
    - Archives

Circus Cowboys
    - Archives

Rangeland Elegance
    - Archives

Western Artifacts
    - Archives

Film Festival Fotos
    - Archives

Silent Western Reviews
    - Archives

Serial Report
    - Archives

Research & Consulting

Subscribe to Western Clippings

Other Western Links


Western Clippings Back Issues

Serial Report Back Issues

Daily Comic Strips

Sunday Comic Strips


Miscellaneous Collectibles

Lobby Cards

Laser Copies of Lobby Cards

Movie Posters



Howdy! To-daze guest columnist is my ol’ saddlemate from the great Bar WB Ranch—Jack Kelly. In a previous column I recounted the pleasure of working with Clayton Moore and a gaggle of gun-totin’ Gower Gulch galoots back in ‘79 for a TV western reunion. During a mocha java break, Bart Maverick sashayed up to ol’ Sweet Toes for our first pow-wow in many a moon. Jack was duded-up gambler style. I sported dregs from Western Costume’s last gasp.

Jack Kelly as Bart Maverick.He ushered me to a corner for a friendly game of backgammon—never play poker with a guy named Doc nor backgammon with a guy who brings his own set. He scummed me two out of three (we only played two). Four months later Jack phoned from his home in Huntington Beach to invite me to a charity rodeo and to read me his latest newspaper column, a tribute to Clayton Moore. Later, he and his daughter Nicole ended up publishing the paper. (Wonder if he won it in a friendly game of backgammon?)

Thanks to super sleuthing by my wife Babs, the Huntington Beach library and Jack’s pal Jerry Person, I give you Kelly’s tribute to Moore.
HUNTINGTON BEACH NEWS, September 27, 1979—
“There’s a gag card making the rounds: ‘Old Actors Never Die—They Just Fail to Perform.’ I’ll be the first to publicly deny the allegation if you promise never to question my wife. Her answer could wreck a career.

Clayton Moore was The Lone Ranger.There is one old actor who will never die, and as sure as Tonto is faithful, has never failed to perform. He’s a great guy named Clayton Moore. He played the Lone Ranger for so many years, the silver bullets have tarnished. He galloped so many cinematic miles on the great steed Silver, he should be enshrined in Hollywood Park. Clayton saved so many sod busters from cattlemen’s wrath, they should have named chicken fried steak after him.  He  used  so  many silver bullets as momentos to startled and thankful range families, laid end-to-end they’d stretch from Dodge City to the Chicago stockyards. His courage-provoking salutation, ‘Hi-Yo, Silver, Awayyy!’, is more memorable a rallying cry than ‘Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!’, ‘Don’t tread on me’, or ‘Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition’.

To get him to discuss his birthdate would be an accomplishment equal to proving Wilt Chamberlain wears elevator shoes, Chrysler Corporation isn’t really stupidly managed or John Wayne was a bad guy! Clayton Moore is so loyal to the Lone Ranger, he wouldn’t go to a restroom at the L.A. Coliseum without wearing his mask. He’s so determined to separate his private life from the outstanding fictional hero of the West, he’d likely be fingered as the masked rapist in a police lineup, and still wouldn’t request Tonto to vouch for his character.

After the Lone Ranger went off the air, Clayton earned a living at state fairs, rodeos and every other conceivable personal appearance where his services were continually requested by eager entrepreneurs. Clayton Moore was once legally ambushed as indelicately as when the ‘dirty little coward’ plugged Mr. Howard, as the infamous Bob Ford squeezed the shot that propelled Jesse James into an orbit of American folk legend. The Wrather Corporation, owners of Lone Ranger rights and trademarks, successfully enjoined Clayton Moore from ever appearing again as the masked crusader. Ain’t it a shame. A man who subverted his own identification to perpetuate his fictional career partner had to hang up mask, six-guns and future as if he were a hopeless mosquito, smashed on the forearm of a jet-setter taking sun in Acapulco? Wrather was rightfully protecting his ability to capitalize on appearances of a new artist portraying the legendary hero. Mr. Wrather should have considered appointing him to a position of value in the new project. He’s been of continual value over the years by keeping Silver’s rider unsullied.”

Jack Kelly died Saturday November 7, 1992. Besides his talent for acting, journalism, golf, crossword puzzles and backgammon, Jack had been elected mayor twice and councilman for 10 years. On Thursday November 13, 1992, a sunken Civic Center amphitheatre in Huntington Beach, CA, served as Jack’s final stage. Standing room only as family, friends and admirers bid Jack the Big Adios. Babs and I were there. Bob ‘Brent Maverick’ Colbert was there. Looked as if the whole town turned out. We sure miss ya, Jack.