American comics: I drew Superman during the Great Depression

In this era, the media is the real ‘uncrowned king’.

Knowing this, Colin’s desire to change the direction of the Courier became stronger.

Click, click…

As noon approached, the sound of old John tapping the typesetting gradually subsided.

He stretched his sore shoulders, finished the last row of content, and repeatedly confirmed whether there were any errors in the typesetting. Old John breathed a sigh of relief and stood up and left the typesetting machine.

On the side, young John, who was already hungry, took out the lunch he had prepared in advance.

Due to the snowy weather, he could not go out to collect materials, so he had to stay in the newspaper office to help old John.

Use a knife to cut the pink bread into slices, spread a small amount of peanut butter, and match it with hot water brewed coffee, and a simple employee meal is ready.

"Boss, your lunch."

Taking out a piece of bread with the most peanut butter, young John brought it to the desk together with the coffee.

"Thank you."

Looking down at the lunch brought by young John, Colin casually thanked him.

Put down the old newspaper in your hand, open the drawer, take out a can of salad with only one-third left, open it, pour half of it onto the plate, and the whole lunch will have meat, vegetables and bread.

Sighing silently, stuffing the bread into your mouth.

The pink bread slices have a very strange taste, with a delicate feeling of sand, and occasionally you can taste some aroma of beans or grains. After repeated chewing, you can taste a little fishy smell of internal organs, which is a taste that cannot be covered by applying more peanut butter.

A small piece of bread can produce such a responsible and strange taste, which is naturally closely related to its raw materials.

Pork liver bread, or pork liver roll, pork liver cake.

It is a meat bread made by mashing pork liver into a paste, adding beans, oats, ketchup and other auxiliary materials, and baking it into a long bread shape in a mold. It is also one of the sources of meat in lunch as Colin said.

During the Great Depression, the price of offal was cheap, and liver bread became the first choice for families who could not afford pork, beef, chicken and other common meats.

At the same time, it also became one of the standard side dishes for lunch at the Messenger newspaper.

Pinching his nose, he stuffed the remaining liver bread into his mouth, swallowed it with the help of coffee, and recalled the strange taste of the bread. Colin couldn't help shuddering.

"Perhaps, old John should remove liver bread from the lunch list. This thing is definitely a dark dish."

With a bitter face, he looked at old John and his son in the newspaper.

The two ate bread calmly, and there was no big abnormality on their faces.

For people living in the Great Depression, being able to fill their stomachs was the most important thing. As for the taste and taste, that was something only rich people would consider.

While eating liver bread, little John spread out the newspaper and flipped through it to find the part he was thinking about, and immediately devoted himself to it.

Fifteen minutes of lunch time seemed particularly long for Colin.

After finishing the last sip of coffee in the cup, he tidied up the few tableware on the table, stood up and put the plate next to the stove where water was boiled. The rest was Little John's job.

The good thing about being a boss is that you don't have to worry about trivial matters.

Especially during the Great Depression, workers would become extremely diligent, fearing that they would lose precious job opportunities due to their momentary negligence.

Reducing unreasonable expectations was a common practice among workers during the Great Depression. In order to keep an important source of income, they learned to accept low-paying and unfair jobs.

At the same time, the boss would often remind workers that if they slacked off, there would be many people willing to replace them.

If it weren't for the bad economy, perhaps the Great Depression would have become an era that all capitalists yearned for.

He shook his head and swept away the inexplicable thoughts in his mind.

Picking up the coffee pot on the stove and refilling the empty cup, Colin passed by the position where Old John and the other man were with coffee in one hand, and his eyes inadvertently glanced at the content of the newspaper.

What Little John was reading was not what he thought was a news report, but a series of comic strips that were very characteristic of the times.

Swallowing the last piece of pork liver bread in his mouth, Colin stopped behind Little John. Old John blinked behind his brass reading glasses and opened his mouth to remind him.

"Shh."

Putting his index finger on his mouth to stop Old John's reminder, Colin looked at the comic strip in Little John's hand.

The content of the comic strip was not complicated, mainly telling a detective story about fighting against crime.

The protagonist was equipped with standard private detective equipment, and he shot at the criminals without saying a word, which was obviously different from the traditional image of detectives who relied on intelligence to catch and solve cases.

"What kind of comic strip is this?"

After roughly scanning the storyline of the comic strip, Colin suddenly had an inspiration in his mind, and he quickly asked Little John.

"Dick Tracy..."

When he heard the question from behind, Little John subconsciously replied.

Then he reacted belatedly, looked up at Old John who was shaking his head at him, turned his head stiffly to look at Colin behind him, and said with a dull face full of helplessness: "... Sorry, boss, I didn't mean to look... I didn't know you were here..."

"Don't be nervous, it's lunch break now."

Looking at the bewildered little John in front of him, Colin comforted him, and pointed at the newspaper in his hand that was crumpled because of nervousness, and continued to ask: "I'm just a little curious about the comic you read. Can you tell me what this comic is?"

Hearing that Colin had no intention of pursuing him on this matter, little John couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief, and at the same time, old John on the other side couldn't help but let go of his original heart.

Following the direction Colin pointed, looking at the wrinkled newspaper in his hand, little John quickly spread it out and said: "It's "Dick Tracy", a detective comic that has only recently started serializing in newspapers. It tells the story of the protagonist Dick Tracy fighting criminals and bringing them to justice..."

"Serialized comics."

Repeating a sentence in his mouth, Colin looked at the black and white comics printed in the newspaper and asked the most concerned and key question in his heart.

"So, is "Dick Tracy" popular?"

"This?"

Faced with Colin's question, little John lowered his head and glanced at the protagonist of the comic in the newspaper, and then replied in an uncertain tone.

"It must be popular, otherwise Dick Tracy wouldn't have been serialized in newspapers..."