#43: "Hy-yo Silver!"

I was born 76 years ago on August 21, 1949 in Hollywood California. 24 days later, October 14, 1949, the first episode of The Lone Ranger aired in Los Angeles. By the end of October, it was playing coast-to-coast. This long-running western starred Clayton Moore as the title character, and Jay Silverheels (born Harold J. Smith) as his trusted Indian companion Tonto, That first episode, entitled Enter the Lone Ranger, gave background to an ongoing saga of the old west that would air its last (and 221st) episode, entitled Outlaws in Greasepaint, on June 6, 1957.

In its time, The Lone Ranger was, next to the The Roy Rogers Show (which first aired on Sunday, December 30, 1951), the most popular western in America. Unlike Roy Rogers and Dale Evans, whose show was filmed largely on a sound stage at the Sam Goldwyn Studios (and occasionally the Corrigan Movie Ranch in Simi Valley), The Lone Ranger was filmed almost exclusively at the lower Iverson Movie Ranch in Chatsworth, California, and in Kanab, Utah (also known as “Little Hollywood” for its many western productions). The Iverson Movie Ranch, with its many unique natural rock formations, is now a large, upscale condominium community located off Valley Circle Blvd. in West Hills . . . within walking distance of my sister Erica’s home.

Obviously, I wasn’t in any condition to watch the first season or two of The Lone Ranger. But by the time I was 4 or 5, I, like most children in America had committed to heart the show’s opening lines expertly delivered by Fred Foy . . . all accompanied to the best-known of Gioachino Rossini’s major musical works, the overture of his 39th (and last) opera, William Tell. What every kid in America (now in our late 70s and early 80s) remembers are the words:

Announcer: A fiery horse with the speed of light,
A cloud of dust and a hearty ‘Hi-yo, Silver!’

Announcer: “The Lone Ranger!”

The Lone Ranger: “Hi-yo, Silver, away!”

Announcer: With his faithful Indian companion Tonto,
”The daring and resourceful masked rider of the plains
led the fight for law and order in the early West.”

“Return with us now to those thrilling days of yesteryear.
The Lone Ranger rides again!”

Like most kidlets growing up in the 1950s, I wanted to grow up and become a cowboy, ride a huge white horse named “Silver” and have a best friend named “Tonto.” Of course I had no way of knowing that t-o-n-t-o was the Spanish word for “silly” or ”fool”; perhaps that’s why the Lone Ranger’s steadfast companion was renamed called either “Ponto” or “Toro” (Spanish for “bull”) in Mexican airings of the show. Despite his birth name (Harold Smith), Silverheels was, in fact, a full-blooded Mohawk, who was born on May 26, 1912 on Canada’s Six Nation’s Reserve. In later years he would tell interviewers that he actually despised the show’s portrayal of an Indian; in retirement he became an outspoken activist for Indian rights and a much-respected teacher within the Indian acting community. Not know any of this as a wee sprat, I still wanted to have a best friend named Tonto.

Of course, there were other youngsters who wanted to be Roy Rogers or Dale Evans, ride a Golden Palomino named “Trigger” or a buckskin Quarter Horse named “Buttermilk” and be chauffeured about in a Jeep called “Nellybelle”. . . a character in “her” own right. For whatever reason, I preferred the Ranger and Tonto over Roy and Dale. Perhaps it was because people referred to the nameless ranger as “Mister” - what lots of people called my father.

I really admired the Lone Ranger and Tonto; they were brave, unafraid of danger, deeply honest and always doing their best to help those in trouble. It of course never dawned on the much, much younger me that they were also quite nosey and unaccountably, always in the right place at the right time. Although I did find it strange that they never shot to kill, never accepted a reward, and always rode out of town 2 minutes after bringing the bad guys to justice, it didn’t kept me up at night wondering; that was just their code. . . a code I deeply admired.

In matter of fact, there actually was a “Lone Ranger Creed” which I affixed to a cork board on the back of my bedroom door. It read in part:

That to have a friend, a man must be one.
That all men are created equal and that everyone has within himself the power to make this a better world.
That God put the firewood there but that every man must gather and light it himself.
In being prepared physically, mentally, and morally to fight when necessary for that which is right.
That a man should make the most of what equipment he has.
That "This government, of the people, by the people and for the people" shall live always.
That men should live by the rule of what is best for the greatest number.
That sooner or later...somewhere...somehow...we must settle with the world and make payment for what we have taken.
That all things change but truth, and that truth alone, lives on forever.
In my Creator, my country, my fellow man.

And it was actually “signed” by none other than the Lone Ranger himself. Of course, I’d never heard of autopen . .

The Lone Ranger and Tonto could never succeed in today’s world of entertainment. In our cynical, violence-enjoying viewing world, it would be found too "cheesy” or "naive.” And when all was said and done, it could, at times, be overly sentimental and more than a bit hokey. We’ve lost a lot of our former need - and ability - to seek and find wonderment in characters who are just a bit too good to be true. Then too, from a purely dramatic point of view, The Long Ranger did not have great acting; Clayton Moore, although having a great speaking voice, was too predictable; John Hart, who briefly ((52 episodes in season 3 ) replaced the “real” Lone Ranger Moore was out due to a salary dispute, was nothing more than a good-looking stiff; and Jay Silverheels was hampered by playing a character who, though deeply loyal, was also a bit lame. Last but not least, today’s viewing audience rarely get turned on by Westerns. When it comes to heroes, Superman and X-Men are super; The Lone Ranger and Tonto are ho-hum. Witness all the failures that remakes have met with ever since the weekly show went off the air in 1957:

1966-1967’s animated The Lone Ranger one the most obscure television shows of all time;
1981’s The Legend of the Lone Ranger, starring the one-flop wonder, Klinton Spilsbury
1980-1980’s bizarre The Tarzan/Lone Ranger/Zorro Adventure Hour starring Wm. Conrad, and
2013’s The Lone Ranger, starring Johnny Depp as Tonto, and wearing the weirdest makeup in cinematic history.

Despite these cinematic misses, The Lone Ranger has had one of the longest runs in show business history. In the 1920s and 30s Buck Jones, one of the greatest of the “B” western stars made a series of cowboy films in which he played a Texas Ranger who rode a white horse named Silver. He even claimed he originated the yell "Hi-Yo Silver!" Titles include The Lone Rider (1930) and The Texas Ranger (1931). Jones sued Republic Pictures to stop production of their Lone Ranger movies. He lost the case. During his career, Jones (1891-1942) made 167 movies, and at one point he was receiving more fan mail than any actor in the world. He died shortly before his 51st birthday in one of the worst fire disasters in American history: the Coconut Grove (Boston) nightclub fire of November 28, 1942, which claimed nearly 500 lives.

A couple of years after Jones’ The Lone Rider The Lone Ranger began airing on nation-wide radio. It was a huge success on radio, eventually running from 1933 to 1956. Brace Beemer (1902-1965) provided the voice of John Reid (The Lone Ranger) for much of its latter run, with voice actor John Todd (1877-1957) playing Tonto. (btw: Legend has it that Tonto was added to the radio show in order to give The Lone Ranger someone to talk too . . .) In 1938, while the radio show was in its glory, Republic Pictures released two serials starring the Lone Ranger. The first used several actors playing different Texas Rangers, one of whom was also the masked hero. The second serial, entitled The Lone Ranger Rides Again, had 15 chapters and starred Robert Livingston as The Lone Ranger and Chief Thundercloud (Victor Daniels) as Tonto. With the exception of the first episode (Hi-Yo Silver) which clocked in at a bit over 30 minutes, the rest of the chapters ran about 16 and a half minutes.

For those who are lifelong fans of the 220+ Clayton Moore/Jay Silverheels half-hour Western dramas, I am happy to inform you that there is now a 24-hour a day Lone Ranger internet offering by Pluto TV, The Roku Channel and Tubi. The entire series runs in order, generally taking about 4 days to run through each and every episode. It is a wonderful way to relive childhood innocence . . . a half-hour at a stretch.

Hi-yo Silver . . . AWAY!