The “Injun Summer” era ended on Oct. The drawing, first published in , was once quite popular. Learn how your comment data is processed. From his pipe the smoke ascending Filled the sky with haze and vapor, Filled the air with dreamy softness, Gave a twinkle to the water, Touched the rugged hills with smoothness, Brought the tender Indian Summer To the melancholy north-land, In the dreary Moon of Snow-shoes. Yep, sonny this is sure enough Injun summer.
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The drawings may be timeless, but the text had outlived its day. The farther we get fromthe less meaning it has for the current generation. They all sumer away and died, so they ain’t no more left. Nobody explained that the place where I grew up was settled by a people that was systematically taken out or pushed aside in the name of progress, or that the manner in which we celebrate their cultures is, frankly, insensitive and terrible.
Why I kin hear ’em rustlin’ an’ whisper in’ an’ creepin’ ’round among the leaves all the injjun an’ ever’ once’n a while a leaf gives way under some fat old Injun ghost and comes floatin’ down to the ground. At the Century of Progress World’s Fair in it was a life-size diorama and was reproduced in a fireworks display. Injn the war paint rubbed off’n an Injun ghost, sure’s you’re born. Sorry, your blog cannot share posts by email.
You are commenting using your Google account. I recall Midwestern Octobers from my youth, memories glossy and unmarked by the texture of self-awareness. His death in earned a front-page obituary.
The Tribune reprinted it inon page 4, in response to readers’ requests, and then annually this time of year from to His son, John Jr. Well, that’s when all the homesick Injuns come back to play; You know, a long time ago, long afore yer granddaddy was born even, there used to be heaps of Injuns around here — thousands — millions, I ssummer, far as that’s concerned. As early asreaders wrote letters complaining that the Tribune was running an ethnically insensitive feature that misrepresented the brutal reality of Native American history in the United States in the 18th and 19th centuries.
The drawing, first published inwas once quite popular.
When October in Chicago Meant Revisiting a Racist Cartoon
Don’t know what that is, I reckon, do you? But every year, ‘long about now, they all come back, injuun their sperrits do. McCutcheon’s long career at the Tribune stretched fromwhen he moved from the old Chicago Record, untilwhen he retired. It’s the campfires, an’ th’ Injuns are hoppin’ ’round ’em t’beat the old Harry.
Remembering ‘Injun Summer’ – But Not in a Good Way |
Written in voice-y vernacular, it relates the tale of Native Americans who once lived in the US, but now are just a distant memory, revived only by the last gasps of summer heat during the early parts of autumn: Don’t be skeered — hain’t wummer around here now, leastways no live ones.
McCutcheon found himself groping for inspiration for a drawing to fill his accustomed spot on the front page of the Tribune. Over time the cartoon came to evoke anger as well as nostalgia. Reg’lar sure ‘nough Injuns — none o’ yer cigar store Injuns, not much.
Injun Summer – John T. McCutcheon
The drawings of Bill Mauldina two-time winner for work done before his arrival in Chicago, enlivened the editorial pages of the Sun-Times from to Subscribe To Our Newsletter. Ihjun as the years passed, more people were offended by lines like: Every fall, some readers complain that they miss it. The Indiana State Fair reproduced it as a feature exhibit in October 16, at Injuun are commenting using your Twitter account. One reader wrote 11, letters to men in service because of it.
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