

There were also his stupendous powers of tracking. Him good man.” His faulty grammar was absolutely consistent: he may have been a man of the lesser breeds, in Kipling’s phrase, but he was intelligent, loyal, and constant. His Tonto, of course, had an adhesive relationship to the objective case. (The two of them murmured to each other like baritonal lovers.) No, you didn’t have to ask Jay Silverheels to keep his voice down. Jay Silverheels, who played Tonto, also had a smoothly beautiful, quiet voice. The note of moral probity was struck as regularly as a bell in a cathedral tower. “The Lone Ranger” offered a rational world in which justice always triumphed.

Such a fine man! I revered his solidity, his lucid strength, all of it expressed in a perfectly even, radio-nurtured voice. I remember loving Clayton Moore, who played the Lone Ranger much of the time. Nuzzling is certainly the right word for this gentlest of all dramatic experiences (if you were white and male, that is). I can remember nuzzling with a soft cushion as I watched “The Lone Ranger” on ABC in the early fifties.
