A Comic Strip, the Internet, and the End of Everything

In this installment of ‘This Week in History,’ we see how Americans awaited a possible cataclysm and braced for the loss of a 50-year friendship.
A Comic Strip, the Internet, and the End of Everything
A visitor walks past a display of "Peanuts" cartoons by the late Charles Schulz at the Frankfurt Book Fair on Oct. 15, 2008. John MacDougall/ AFP via Getty Images
Dustin Bass
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As the 20th century neared its end, there was a global fear that chaos and disaster was right around the corner, or more accurately, a mere second away. With much of the world now on the grid, the Year 2000 (Y2K) bug was certainly going to lead the digital world, and, therefore, the world in general, to collapse, all because the annual numerical date would change from “19” to “20.”

Major corporations from banks to manufacturers, and even governments, literally worked around the clock to prepare for what seemed to be impending disaster. The U.S. Congress passed the Year 2000 Information and Readiness Disclosure Act in October of 1998, which encouraged companies to share digital information about how they were finding solutions to becoming Y2K compliant. The United Nations followed suit with a global effort.

A Best Buy sticker from 1999 recommending that their customers turn off their computers ahead of midnight. (Public Domain)
A Best Buy sticker from 1999 recommending that their customers turn off their computers ahead of midnight. Public Domain
The world supposedly hung on edge, while many doubted the fearmongering and many others propagated it. As the year 1999 careened towards doomsday, an old cartoonist prepared for his end regardless of what transpired between the final tick of the clock from Dec. 31, 1999 to the first tick on Jan. 1, 2000.

America’s Cartoonist

Charles Schulz, the world-famous creator of the comic strip “Peanuts,” had already witnessed the end of the world, or at least what it would look like if humanity reached its apex (or, more appropriately, abyss). Schulz had been a U.S. Army staff sergeant in the 20th Armored Division during the final months of World War II. He had distinguished himself in the fight against the Nazis in the heart of the European Theater. Aside from armed combat against the Germans, he had helped liberate one of the worst Nazi concentration camps: Dachau.
U.S. Army portrait of Sgt. Schulz, circa 1943. (Public Domain)
U.S. Army portrait of Sgt. Schulz, circa 1943. Public Domain

The camp, located about 10 miles from Munich, was one of the first erected and was initially established as a prison in 1933 for Adolf Hitler’s political dissenters. Over the course of 12 years, the camp held more than 200,000 prisoners where approximately 40,000 died. Schulz was part of the liberating party on April 29, 1945. From there, he became part of the occupation force in Munich.

Before reaching the shores of Europe and the turmoil of World War II, Schulz had been a lonely and shy Minnesotan. He lacked self-confidence, and when he was drafted and sent away to Fort Snelling for introduction to the service, his timid state worsened with homesickness. That homesickness was mixed with the fear of losing his mother, Dena, who was suffering from cervical cancer. On weekends and holidays, Schulz returned home to comfort and care for his mother as best he could.

During a frigid Minnesota February in 1943, Dena died. A few days later, Schulz was shipped off for basic training. Two years later, Schulz and his division arrived in Europe. By January of 1946, Schulz was discharged.

Before he was drafted, he had developed a passion for cartooning. He was nicknamed “Sparky” by his uncle, a name attributed to the horse in the comic “Barney Google.” At 15, “Ripley’s Believe It Or Not!” published one of his cartoon submissions. All of his submissions to his high school yearbook, however, were rejected. Rejection was part of his life, Schulz once admitted.
Arguably the most hurtful one came from a redhead who rejected his marriage proposal. His experiences with war, rejections, friendship, death, and love—even unrequited love—became themes in his cartoons.

America’s Comic Strip

He found success in the creation of “Li'l Folks,” the precursor to “Peanuts.” It was only the precursor because once the cartoon was picked up by the United Feature Syndicate in 1950, they required a name change because the original sounded too familiar with another comic strip.
Charles Schulz was a 20th-century American cartoonist best known worldwide for his Peanuts comic strip. (Public Domain)
Charles Schulz was a 20th-century American cartoonist best known worldwide for his Peanuts comic strip. Public Domain

His first “Peanuts” cartoon was published on Oct. 2, 1950, and for the next 50 years, Schulz created more than 18,250 strips, not including the films and books. At the height of his career, it is estimated he was earning between $30 million and $40 million annually. Despite the success (professionally and financially), he lived modestly. Furthermore, the anxieties expressed by Charlie Brown stemmed from his own.

His philosophy about his comics was possibly summed up in a line from his book “Charlie Brown, Snoopy and Me,” when he stated, “You can’t create humor out of happiness.”

The Cartoonist Is His Creation

His second wife, Jeannie, once said of her husband, “He’s crabby like Lucy, diffident like Charlie Brown. There’s a lot of Linus―he’s philosophical and wondering about life.”

He worried about life, prompting one of his characters, Sally, to suggest that “Daytime is so you can see where you’re going. Nighttime is so you can lie in bed worrying.”

Death was a consistent thought, and was at times discussed in his comic strips. This fateful pondering increased after his quadruple-bypass heart surgery in 1981. He developed a quiver in his hand post-surgery, but maintained full control over creating the comic strip. He had yet to reach 60, but noted that “everything has to end.”
Charles Schulz in 1993. (CC BY 2.0)
Charles Schulz in 1993. CC BY 2.0

The Beginning and the End

Twelve years after his surgery, in 1993 (the same year Apple built its headquarters in Silicon Valley), the Internet (the World Wide Web) was made available for public use. As the 1990s neared its end, more and more people, businesses, and governments went online. In 1993, less than 3 percent of the U.S. population was online. By 1999, that number was nearing 40 percent. By then, Americans made up more than half of the global Internet users. As online usage grew so did the specter of catastrophe.

In November of 1999, just 100 miles north of the hub of tech innovation―Silicon Valley―in Santa Rosa, Schulz was diagnosed with colon cancer. He had just turned 77, and hoping to combat the diagnosis, opted for chemotherapy. The cancer, however, was already terminal. As computer scientists and technicians literally raced against the clock, Schulz realized his time was up. On Dec. 14, 1999, Schulz announced his retirement.

As the final seconds of Dec. 31, 1999 counted down, the world waited with bated breath to witness the results. Jan. 1, 2000 arrived without incident. Two days later, however, an incident did occur that affected the world over.

It was during this week in history, on Jan. 3, 2000, that readers saw Schulz’s final original daily comic strip. The final strip heralded by more than 2,600 newspapers in 25 different languages, and illustrated with a thoughtful Snoopy, the famous “Peanuts” character, sitting atop his doghouse with a typewriter before him, informed readers of his retirement. Interestingly, the name of Snoopy was suggested by his mother shortly before her death. The suggestion was not for the cartoon, but rather for an actual dog she hoped the family would get.

The fears and uncertainty of Y2K had subsided. Now the sorrow of Schulz’s certain end descended on the globe. On Feb. 13, 2000, the last Sunday edition of Schulz’s comic strip was published globally with the same message, but adorned with retrospective images from past strips with Charlie Brown, Snoopy, Linus, Lucy, Sally, Peppermint Patty, and others.

“Charlie Brown, Snoopy, Linus, Lucy … how can I ever forget them,” stated Schulz’s comic strip immediately before his famous signature. Indeed, how could anyone forget them? As the world reeled from the announcement, it was struck again by further news of Schulz. Just hours before the Sunday edition was published, the cartoonist―arguably America’s greatest―had, almost poetically, died in his sleep.

A memorial to Charles M. Schulz at the Santa Rosa Rural Cemetery. (<a title="User:Missvain" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/User:Missvain">Missvain</a>/<a class="mw-mmv-license" href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0" target="_blank" rel="noopener">CC BY 4.0</a>)
A memorial to Charles M. Schulz at the Santa Rosa Rural Cemetery. Missvain/CC BY 4.0
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Dustin Bass
Dustin Bass
Author
Dustin Bass is an author and co-host of The Sons of History podcast. He also writes two weekly series for The Epoch Times: Profiles in History and This Week in History.
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