Part of a continuing weekly series on Alaska history by local historian David Reamer. Have a question about Anchorage or Alaska history or an idea for a future article? Go to the form at the bottom of this story.
Of the many ills and issues in the world today, surely one is people trying to lure innocent historians with their vintage mysteries. On Facebook marketplace and eBay, in thrift and antique shops, there are people who willfully dangle artifacts of the past in front of those without the ability to resist. In short, that is how I wound up buying two Camel matchbooks, even though I quit smoking when I turned 18. I needed to know why anthropomorphic cigarette pitchman Joe Camel promised to visit Anchorage in 1992.
The matchbooks are brightly colored and feature Mr. Camel on the back, clad in a heavy coat and smoking outside in falling snow. This is what an advertising agency and a tobacco corporation concluded looked cool as of the early 1990s. The front declares: “The Hard Pack ’92 Tour.” A list of destinations lines the inside: Vegas, NV; Frostproof, FL; Houston, TX; Yazoo City, MS; Indianapolis, IN; Pittsburgh, CA; Anchorage, AK; Club Camel, USA; Kernersville, NC. Beneath the striker, the fold-over notes “Anchorage.” Therefore, these matchbooks were meant specifically for the Anchorage market.
To begin, Joe Camel requires some lengthy explanation for the uninitiated. In 1964, Surgeon General Luther Terry issued a report directly linking smoking to lung cancer, laryngeal cancer and chronic bronchitis. The 1965 Cigarette Labeling and Advertising Act required cigarette packs to include a health warning statement. President Richard Nixon signed the Public Health Cigarette Smoking Act on April 1, 1970, which banned cigarette advertising on television and radio effective Jan. 2, 1971. That is why most of you reading this have never seen a cigarette commercial except as a vintage oddity. By the way, the last televised cigarette advertisement was for Virginia Slims.
American tobacco sales, including cigarettes, not coincidentally peaked right before the surgeon general’s 1964 report. However, the industry remained massively lucrative, meaning there were corporations with advertising money to burn but limited outlets with which to influence consumers. Print advertisements did not offer the same impact.
At around the same time, the major American tobacco companies realized that younger smokers — teenagers — represented a significant population target. Hook them young. This was an explicit conclusion, stated clearly and openly in internal communications, memos and research reports. For example, Philip Morris brands include Marlboros and Virginia Slims. From a 1981 study, “Today’s teenager is tomorrow’s potential regular customer, and the overwhelming majority of smokers first begin to smoke while still in their teens … The smoking patterns of teenagers are particularly important to Philip Morris.”
The Lorillard Tobacco Co. made Newports and Kents, among other brands. From a 1978 Lorillard executive memo, “the base of our business is the high school student.” U.S. Tobacco Co., now U.S. Smokeless Tobacco Co., markets notable smokeless tobacco brands Copenhagen and Skoal. A U.S. Tobacco Co. salesman was quoted in 1994 saying, “Cherry Skoal is for somebody who likes the taste of candy, if you know what I’m saying.”
Then there is Camel Cigarettes’ parent company, R.J. Reynolds. Per a 1976 company forecast report, “Evidence is now available to indicate that the 14-18 year old group is an increasing segment of the smoking population. RJR-T must soon establish a successful new brand in this market if our position in the industry is to be maintained in the long term.”
What they needed was a mascot, perhaps a non-threatening animal that yet indicated a mature masculinity. Joe Camel originated in a 1974 French campaign and was imported to the United States in 1988. He rode motorcycles and flew jets, wore suits and leather jackets, gambled and played in a blues rock band. He hung out on beaches with babes and drank with the boys on fire escapes. He was effortlessly cool, a “smooth character” as described in most of the advertisements. And of course he was always smoking.
You’ve heard the expression, “let’s get busy”? Well, this was a camel that got biz-zay. Consistently and thoroughly. He was proactive, a totally outrageous paradigm.
Joe Camel merchandise could fill warehouses, from shirts to lighters. They were sold outright, given away or acquired via Camel Cash coupons included in cigarette packs. For a brief time, Joe Camel was everywhere.
The problem was, he was also everywhere with kids, who were likewise attracted to a cartoon animal doing all the cool things they imagined grown-ups were doing. In a very real way, Joe Camel was who they wanted to be when they grew up. The public tide began to turn against Joe Camel in 1991, after a study into preschooler brand recognition. Among 6-year-olds, Joe Camel had about the same level of recognition as the Disney Channel logo, above 90% awareness.
Formal complaints and legal challenges followed. The Federal Trade Commission accused R.J. Reynolds of “unfair practices” by targeting children. In 1997, the Joe Camel campaign was voluntarily canceled before the voluntary option was removed.
Back to the matchbook. The Hard Pack was a Joe Camel spinoff of sorts. It was a blues rock band, both real and not. The matchbook says they visited Anchorage. The other destinations are clues about whether that happened. There are small towns like Frostproof and Yazoo City. There are larger cities like Las Vegas and Houston. And there is a fictional place, Club Camel. Within the limited Joe Camel continuity, Club Camel was his home bar, the place he jammed with other musicians like Bustah, Floyd, Max and Eddie. Together, they were the Hard Pack, or sometimes called Joe Camel and the Hard Pack.
The Hard Pack name was wordplay, for a bunch of masculine guys and a rigid cigarette pack. R.J. Reynolds’ own focus group research indicated the name might have been a poor choice. While the concept played well enough with men, women found it less appealing. Specifically, “The visuals evoke negative images of characters who are tough and have a hard edge. They perceive the Camel guys to be sinister and intimidating.” As such, the Hard Pack undercut their “smooth,” unthreatening presentation of Joe Camel.
The band was real in that they had merchandise and an album, a promotional cassette titled “Meet the Hard Pack.” Most bands fail to make it that far. The cassette features an assortment of songs that are just as subtle as you would expect given the context, including “Don’t Give Me No Cheap Cigarettes,” “Mr. Smooth Character,” “Empty Lighter Blues,” “It’s Got to Be Smooth” and “Hard Pack Tuff.” And there are seven more songs with that spirit.
The band was not real in that they otherwise did not exist. There were no live performances. Nobody dressed up in a camel costume and rocked out to the “Camel Jump.” To answer my opening question, the one that drove me to buy more than one Joe Camel matchbook, there was no actual Hard Pack tour and no concert in Anchorage.
That said, in keeping with the commercial aspect of the wider Joe Camel campaign and the more specific Hard Pack ’92 Tour campaign, there were a few Alaska-themed promotional items, giveaways, and enticements to good customers. I have seen a print of the Joe Camel image used on the matchbook, though I am unsure whether that was official merchandise. Otherwise, there are the matchbooks themselves, specially printed for a relatively small market. In 1993, there was a Camel-sponsored Fur Rendezvous T-shirt.
And there is a cooler, one surely made in part with chemicals no longer allowed for public purchase. On one side, Joe Camel sits upon a throne of ice bricks looking at a postcard: Greetings from Honolulu. Insofar as a cheap cooler defines reality, this frozen wasteland is supposed to rep