Strong to the Finich
Popeye the Sailor Man is an unconventional hero, but so was the man who inspired him. Meet Frank 'Rocky' Fiegel, the real life Popeye.
In the middle part of the twentieth century, American comics sometimes found their way across the Atlantic as ballast on ships. Once docked in the ports of Glasgow or Liverpool, the nine—panelled bilgeweight was sold for pennies to enterprising individuals who would sell them on for profit and inadvertently kick off a resurgence in the UK comics scene.
This transatlantic traffic may be the reason that a striking-looking ship's stoker came to possess the nickname 'Popeye'. Seen in this image now in the custody of the Imperial War Museum, the Leading Stoker, who was serving on board HMS Rodney in September 1940, has a clear resemblance to Popeye the Sailor Man. His shipmates, presumably the authors of his nickname, could have encountered oceangoing copies of Thimble Theatre, the comic in which the spinach-powered strongman had appeared since 1929.
Other than his soubriquet, this Royal Navy sailor is unnamed. He was, however not, as has sometimes been claimed, the Illinois man who it is said, inspired the character.
Popeye’s creator, E.C. Segar, grew up in Chester, Illinois. This was a small town (population sub-3000) and, like many small towns, it fostered its own ‘characters’ who took on the role of local celebrities.
One such notable was Frank ‘Rocky’ Fiegel (b. 1868). Fiegel was a physical guy. At 5 feet 11 inches tall, and weighing about 175 pounds, he was known for his strength and toughness. His nickname, Rocky, was bestowed on him because of his physique, while despite working heavy jobs, he’d still spend his lunch breaks engaged in tests of strength. He always won. According to his nephew, ‘Rocky lifted twice as much as the other guys’.1
Nor did Fiegel limit his strength to innocent contests. While ‘loafing around’ the saloons and taverns of Chester, he developed the habit of indulging in brawls. This gave him a reputation that led others to seek him out for violence. His nephew recalled a time when Fiegel attended a dance party out in the country. Country boys were charged a quarter for entry, while townsmen like Fiegel were charged 50 cents. Bearing a bellyful of whisky, ‘Rocky’ refused to pay the full amount. The big guy running the door took exception but Fiegel insisted that he be charged the lower rate ‘or there won’t be a dance’. He was proven correct after he started a punch-up with the bouncer, leading the Sheriff to intervene and close the event down.
In another incident on the St Louis levee, Fiegel visited a saloon and encountered a couple of locals who challenged him to fight the local champion, telling their Illinois visitor 'either you put on the gloves or you buy a round for the house'. Fiegel, unsurprisingly, opted for the gloves. The St Louis man was a big guy but Rocky knocked him spark out. 'People have told me he could have been one of the greatest middle-weight champions in the world, if he would have boxed' recalled his nephew.
Of course, every small town has its strongman. What marked Fiegel was his appearance. He had lost his teeth, the resulting empty mouth giving him a chewy, tortoise-like appearance, into which a small pipe appeared like a cartoonist’s flourish. This would have been filled with tobacco, rather than the spinach delivery system and ship’s whistle that Popeye’s pipe became. In any case, the ship’s whistle would have been misplaced. Unlike his famous facesake, Fiegel was not a seagoing man. He did, however, share Popeye’s essential kindheartedness.
Despite his tough exterior, Fiegel was known for his kindness to children, often sharing candy and treats with them. He was also willing to use his toughness as a protector. In one incident, he came across a man beating one of the town’s children. Fiegel intervened and rescued the child. The assailant drew a knife and slashed Fiegel across the face but he refused to back down.
This was an extreme case. For the most part, Chester’s children knew ‘Rocky’ as an eccentric but kind giver of gifts. One of these children may have been the young Elzie Segar. Popeye’s creator claimed to have known Fiegel from his childhood days, drawing inspiration for his new character from his appearance and personality. Fiegel, with his strong chin, pipe, and penchant for fighting, served as a visual and character model for the sailor man.
Popeye debuted in Thimble Theatre on 17 January 1929, a couple of weeks before Fiegel’s sixty-first birthday. The comic was already ten years old by this point. Its core characters were Ham Gravy, his girlfriend Olive Oyl and her brother Castor. Popeye himself appeared as a minor character in a single strip but, owing to instant popular demand, returned for more adventures. In time he would become the central character and Thimble Theatre would be renamed Thimble Theatre Starring Popeye and then simply Popeye.
Throughout the 1930s, Popeye's popularity soared. In 1933, Max Fleischer adapted the character into a series of theatrical cartoon shorts. These cartoons, produced by Fleischer Studios and later Paramount's Famous Studios, were immensely popular and continued production until 1957. Popeye also appeared in comic books, television cartoons, video games, advertisements, and merchandise.
Back in Chester, Fiegel remained unaware of his connection to the beloved cartoon character. He lived with his mother until she died, then continued living in the house alone and later, as an old man, shared the house with an elderly friend.
It wasn't until 1938, nine years before his death, that he learned about his connection to Popeye. The news came following Segar's death from leukaemia at the age of 43. The St. Louis Post-Dispatch, the nearest major newspaper to Chester, published a photo of Fiegel smoking a pipe, identifying him as the inspiration for Popeye.
Fiegel passed away in 1947 at the age of 79. His grave is today marked by a headstone engraved with an image of Popeye as he first appeared in Thimble Theatre. However, he was initially buried in an unmarked grave. It seems that his reputation in the town was mixed. When a campaign was launched to raise funds for a statue, some townsfolk were outright hostile. 'Why should I give funds to immortalise a bum?', said one. It was their right to decline of course, but they were too late. The fighting Frank Fiegel had already entered immortality in the line-drawn person of Popeye the Sailor Man.
‘Chester Man Accepted as Real-Life Popeye was a Brawler, Loved Kids’, Southern Illinoisan, Sunday 8th April 1979, p.33.