Col. King Stanley and his long history with Chandler and Cleveland cars

This image depicts a stereotypical Western character alongside a couple of men in suits. A stylishly dressed woman listens from inside an automobile adorned with illustrations and sign lettering on its side. In the background, on the corner of Clay Street and Van Ness Avenue, stands the Claus Spreckels mansion, which was restored after being destroyed in the 1906 earthquake and fire. However, it later succumbed to the forces of progress. Colonel King Stanley, who already possessed a distinguished name, was also known as “Old Dead Shot.” He claimed that this was an honorific nickname bestowed upon him by “Indians of the frontier.” Occasionally, his story specifically mentions that he received it after successfully escaping the Battle of Wounded Knee. Stanley had transformed into a traveling entertainer, crisscrossing the country in various automobiles. His likeness and colorful descriptive text were prominently displayed on the sides of these vehicles: Col. King Stanley, Old Dead Shot Traveler Trailblazer Explorer Lecturer En Route from Here to There. The Macon Telegraph described Stanley’s typical attire: “…heavy boots that lace to the knee, a red and black hunting jacket and other typical Western apparel, and all that topped by a huge sombrero.” A rattlesnake skin cravat also had a prominent place in the colonel’s wardrobe. In 1924, the Chandler-Cleveland Motor Car Company decided to hire Stanley to promote its new model, which boasted a unique “One-Shot” lubrication system. The company provided him with a 1925 Cleveland Six and added their own message to his usual artwork: “Old Dead Shot and his ‘One Shot.’” What better way to showcase the reliability of an automobile than to have a droopy-mustachioed, suspender-and-boot-wearing trick-shot western scout drive it across the country? At the age of 71, Stanley embarked on a journey from South Carolina to San Diego, visiting dealerships along the way. This was a far cry from his previous solitary life as a scout. He was accompanied by his wife of two years and a mechanic named “Nebraska Bill” Spohn, who ensured that the Cleveland ran smoothly. In some ways, the little details we learn about Col. Stanley’s spouse are more intriguing than his exaggerated tales of Indian-fighting. Grace Raymond, formerly known as Grace Raymond, was a lawyer and “newspaper woman.” She was often referred to as Stanley’s “radio wife” because the couple had their first marriage broadcast live on radio, which was supposedly the first-ever live radio wedding. It’s possible that she played a crucial role in securing Stanley’s “one-shot” gig. The Stanleys’ journey around the United States was celebrated as their million-mile honeymoon. At every stop, they were captivated and complimentary of the towns or cities they visited. After making a pleasant remark about the local climate or hospitality—Macon, Georgia, was called “the City of Chivalry,” and Phoenix, Arizona, the “City of Smiles”—Stanley would share a witty quote about his automobile’s innovative technology. He confidently asserted, “If I am not mistaken, the new lubrication system will significantly extend the life and serviceability of the Cleveland motor car.” For a storyteller like Colonel Stanley, staying on script for the motor company was essential, likely aided by the guidance of newspaper automobile editors and dealership representatives. Instead of recounting tales of the Wild West, the focus shifted to Stanley’s claim that his car was so easy to drive that he had never even broken a tube in the five-tube radio set installed in it. Sometimes, the newspapers faced challenges in determining the most compelling angle for the story. Was Stanley a renowned figure? Was the car unique? Was it the honeymoon angle? Or perhaps the durability of the tires on a long-distance trip? To further complicate the marketing strategy, some dealerships introduced a gimmick that offered $100 credit on a new car to citizens who spotted Stanley, turning it into a human scavenger hunt story. Despite these challenges, the promotion achieved significant visibility. Stanley’s trip with the Cleveland Six was featured in newspapers across the country. During his visit to San Francisco, after being spotted by John P. D. Chadwick during one of the scavenger hunt promotions, the seasoned scout led a caravan of fourteen Cleveland cars through the city streets and was awarded a key to the city.