Tag: fiction

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The Same but Different

The cycle of erecting, tear down and consequent load-out of the tented city drove equipment design that had, over the decades, become a testament to efficiency, durability and simplicity. Portable cookhouse tables, easily assembled components of bleacher seating, platforms that placed an entertainer in front of and above the crowd combine with simple tent poles, stakes and rope, lots of rope. The specific way rope is used and threaded through rigging blocks were unique to the circus and the knots used to secure the guys, lash jump ropes to the poles, were a manner of hooking specific rigging up inside the tent had evolved from the era of sailing.

Using vehicles and attractions to funnel the crowd past enticements was a developed art. The showmen were masters of the science of opportunity as crowds made their way toward the big top.

I became aware of efficiency. I sought to achieve economy of motion during the daily set-up.  Each day the 20×30 tent was spread, poles unloaded and put in place and the stakes were driven. Then the tent went up and the rest of the attraction put into place.

I couldn’t keep a wrist watch working. No problem on a circus. Every day was a routine. Responsibilities drove the day. Near showtime, the activities of the concession department served as the only time piece needed. It coincided with the crowd arriving. The midway was the receiving area. With patrons present we opened the side show and the snake show up for business. For a quarter they could see the unusual attractions inside of what we called the Believe It or Not Show. The tent housed “Trigger,” a five-footed horse. We also had a five-legged cow, a midget bull, and a llama with curious ears that were another wonder of nature.

The Snake Show was in a big box truck that had a two-bunk sleeper in the front that I shared with the big top canvas boss. The large snake was kept in the back. The patrons would climb the stairs that led into the back of the truck where they would look down into a pit to see the enormous python on display. Because of the configuration this was called a pit show.

We were awakened daily just before sunrise to start the trucks and begin the trip to the next town. The big top and crew went first. I loaded the animals into the back of the elephant truck and then coiled the picket line and loaded the stakes while Melvin loaded “Dixie” the elephant. We were ready to begin our trip out of town. I rode shotgun.

We started the trip in the dark. The terrain was revealed as the morning light exposed the surrounding area. This was a special way to start each day.

The rolling countryside of southern Indiana softened gradually as we went north between flat fields. Sprouts of young crops were punctuated with barns, silos and tree shaded dwellings. The communities that had sprung up at the crossroads were our target. Each little town had similar characteristics but arranged with details in different ways. Noticing nuance became a source of fascination for my observant eye.

The days of small town mom and pop businesses of all types had impact because they exerted a personal relationship with their community. Integrity thrived. Although each day was routine, the ever-changing scenery during the jumps to the next small town revealed interesting sights, quaint communities and spectacular natural beauty. We traversed most of Michigan next.

Upon arrival at the next showgrounds, the process of laying out the big top and the arrangement of ancillary equipment had begun. Each morning, the steady rhythmic, metallic sound of sledge hammers hitting steel stakes was heard. The performer’s rigs arrived and they parked adjacent to the performer’s entrance. They had to wait for the big top to go up. While they waited, they visited with one another and the children on the show would play.

The side poles that held up the outside edge of the tent were going up and it created a bowl out of the tent. This was an opportunity for the crew to go underneath to put in the quarter poles. Dixie, the work elephant, wore a tug over her shoulders with chains attached to each side that joined behind her with a hook on the end. When needed, she was guided into position under the canvas and this hook was secured to a loop at the base of the first quarter pole. As she pulled the bottom of the pole, the canvas slowly rose into the air.

This style of setting up a tent was called push-pole. This process was repeated until all the quarter poles were in place. Thus, the elephant was part of the team. 

The cookhouse was usually set up first and by about ten o’clock, the big breakfast meal was ready to be served. The signal was then sent to come and get it. For decades, most circuses had a flag that was run to the top of the cookhouse tent to signal that the morning meal was ready. We had no flag but the shout flags up, went out all over the lot to inform those working to come and eat.

Each day became a steady rhythm of activities. Inevitable situations arose that required immediate attention and became the punctuation of the day. Mechanical breakdowns, drivers getting lost, local municipal hurdles and other uncontrollable situations threatened the rhythm of the show. 

The weather played an interesting role. Rain would render the need for a creative solution to provide comfort for the audience. It also forced other considerations during load out and could create difficulty with moving of vehicles off the lot. Wind was our least favorite.  No matter what was happening, the circus trudged forward with determination.

The circus personnel were intriguing. Traveling throughout the country with this diverse group of people provided a constant mix among ever changing situations. A feeling of family was felt in each new place. The epic tale of our traveling populous was often more interesting than the performance.

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A New Beginning

Many minute details are unique to the touring big top circus that relied on canvas and rope. Specialties include the specific knots used to fasten the guy ropes to the stakes and techniques of the crew working together to accomplish the guy out or tightening of the ropes in order to stretch the circus tent, fascinating to watch. The crew boss would crouch by a stake, loosen the top retaining loop of this knot and use a rhythmic chant to coax the crew gripping the rope, to lean and jerk together repeatedly, as he secured every inch they gained.  

“Hit it, break it, shake it, make it,” went the refrain, “Hit it, break it, shake it, down stake it, one more time, again. Now move along.”    

Once the tent was assembled, the kinkers, or performers, moved inside the tent to hang rigging, arrange props and make their preparations for the show. This took place while the seats were being assembled. Once the calliope wagon was moved into position, I could set up my drums. This was a favorite time for most of us, as we could socialize while we worked. Each performance specialty had consideration for the other performers, since we all shared the same round performance venue. The rigging for the aerial numbers was suspended only during the portion of the show when their act took place.  

During the winter, many things occur to affect the routines of the showmen. The plan for this winter was no different.  Mel and his wife Bessie-Katherine planned to take a brand-new circus on the road in the spring. I was asked to replace BK as the marionette puppeteer who performed school assembly programs in the Chicago suburbs that winter. This would free her up so she could get started booking the new route. My training in the field of puppetry began immediately. When BK’s father Raymond Duke lost his job as billposter on the King Bros Circus, he became available as the booking agent for the new circus. BK was freed up to continue as puppeteer. I was then sent to the winter quarters in southern Indiana to begin building, painting and applying myself creatively in many ways. 

I found winter quarters busy getting Clark & Walters Circus ready to go on the road. Maintenance crews were repairing old equipment and freshening everything up with new paint. Fresh paint made the show look brand new. Once this show left in the spring for their opening town, work began to build Fisher Bros Circus. 

I began to drill, bolt, weld and decorate with paint. I couldn’t believe it – Melvin Silverlake and his wife were creating and taking a new circus out and I was at the center of it, doing everything I could to be valuable. By welding upright brackets and reinforcements onto a flatbed trailer frame, I made a pole trailer with storage racks for seat boards, stakes and side poles. 

Instead of having a spool truck to load the big top canvas, our plan was to load using the reef style of getting the folded-up canvas onto the back of the pole trailer. This is a process where, while the trailer was backed up, crew members lift a segment of the big top to lay on the deck. This process was repeated until the entire length of canvas was loaded onto the trailer. 

  A rough looking moving van became our elephant and lead stock truck. The inside received a bulkhead to separate the animals. The area over the cab was outfitted to haul hay. By adding a trailer hitch, this truck could pull the trailer modified to be our ticket office and popcorn wagon. With yellow paint and a yardstick, I figured out how to emblazon the exterior of the elephant truck with giant lettering “Fisher Bros Circus.” Eager to accomplish anything I could, learning as I went, I created solutions that were unique for this interesting industry.   

The show was operating on a financial shoestring and in true show business fashion, frantic preparations accelerated to a panicked crescendo that accompanied opening day. When we moved all of the equipment to the opening town several miles away, we discovered crucial elements missing. Many items were needed for tonight’s show. We had no light bulbs for the big top chandeliers. BK had only fourteen dollars and needed to get soup for the cookhouse.  

Fortunately, a friend and fan of the circus, Lou Kretchmer was visiting in his Cadillac with his Scotty trailer towed behind. He loved to sell advertising banners to the local merchants to hang in the tent for extra income. He was sent downtown to swap a banner ad for some light bulbs. He discovered there was only one hardware store in town that had what we needed. They bought an ad banner in exchange for the bulbs and we were in business.  

We found out later that there was no chain to secure the elephant.  Lou was sent back to the same hardware store to sell another banner for the chain.  

Our show was little more than a raggedy big top with a few tired vehicles transformed to carry specific loads, and a handful of people who handled multiple tasks. After making the jump back from the sister show to pick up the elephant opening day, I was painting finishing touches on whatever needed my magic.  Lou and Melvin were strategizing. They had a plan to make money.  

At the last minute they took the cookhouse tent and set it up on the midway to become a sideshow. They put four animals inside, gave an opening pitch to the gathered crowd and charged twenty-five cents to go inside. The large crowd was eager to see this attraction. Later they realized someone would have to put it up and down every day. I was then given my Cherry Pie.  

Now that we were on the road, my role as fabricator and decorator evolved. I was erecting and running the side show tent, with a reward of a portion of the proceeds. Right out of high school, I was traveling with a big top circus making one day stands. The daily routine of erecting tents, arranging equipment and setting up the apparatus required coordinated teamwork.  At seventeen, the initiation rites into the flurry of activity that is the circus was introduced to me. I enjoyed being immersed in the myriad tasks of setting up a portion of the tented city, producing my portion of the two performances daily. With the daily contribution to the entertainment of another community complete, taking the show down and loading it in preparation for the jump to the next town was an activity that kept me busy. 

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The Circus

“It takes courage to grow up 

and become who you really are.”

e. e. cummings

Cherry Pie

Bill imprinted his son with a love for the circus due to the experience he had as a boy. The primary reason for this fascination was the enormity of the tented city and the swiftness of moving every day by rail. Several trains brought attractions from all over the world, the infrastructure to support hundreds of people, and the venue for the audience along with an amazing number of animals.

The amount of work accomplished rapidly on the giant tented circus during the golden age of the big top, utilized many clever devices unique to the culture to facilitate these accomplishments. For those brave enough to join, in the midst of this staggering amount of work getting done every day, every new rookie was asked a question, “Do you want some cherry pie?”

Have you have ever been the greenhorn? Perhaps you remember the anguish of learning a new job, wondering “will I ever fit in?” and the struggle to learn an unfamiliar skill from a new boss. The offer of a delectable confection interrupted those distractions for a moment, and promoted a predictable response.

“Yeah!”

He next received instructions to announce this eagerness to the nearby canvas boss, menagerie superintendent, side show captain, or prop hostler overseeing part of the many set-up processes all going on at the same time. Once this eager worker announced he wanted some cherry pie, that was the inside cue to give him an additional task.

Assessing the workload, available labor and balancing progress, the boss looked around and evaluated tasks that needed additional help; driving stakes, unloading and carrying ring curb, arranging prop trunks, moving seat planks into position, or any part of the many routines going on. The expectant rookie was assigned an additional task, followed with instructions to get it done every day and at night make sure he got it loaded onto the right wagon.

This creative way of assigning specific tasks was just one of the reasons the circus was able to accomplish so much each day. The rest of the troop then had a laugh at the expense of the bewildered recruit. They welcomed him to the crew, and the tented city went up a little faster from that day forward. 

The year was 1970. I spent fourteen glorious weeks, from June until September, on the Clark and Walters Circus. The Silverlake family operation had been purchased a few years prior from a showman in Oklahoma. Brownie was the Patriarch of all things circus. As was typical with circus families, all members of the Silverlake family had an act and a specialty task. They all pitched in with the operation of the show and worked together as a team.

I was eager to learn all I could in order to become a valuable showman. Franklin taught me how to splice three strand manila rope. I learned the proper way to install a twist lock plug on the end of an electric cord from Jimmie. And Melvin showed me how to solder a damaged microphone connection. I also learned how to sew a baseball stitch to repair a hole in the big top from Jack, the canvas boss, and even how to twist a whip-popper, the special part on the end of the whip that makes the noise, among other specialties.

 Brownie had time to share stories as he took care of the animals, so I typically followed him around as his helper. I learned about his wagon show days on the M L Clark Circus when he was a boy. I remember his story about when the Mighty Haag Circus was confronted with a steep and dangerous highway grade. This is when the elephants were literally walked over the mountains through to the other side, even though the teams and wagons kept to the roads.

Brownie tutored me with the same kindness he showed the animals in his care. As a newcomer to the show, my job was to play the drums during the show to accompany the calliope music of Bobby Green.  The rest of the time I was all over the circus lot involved in a litany of creative tasks. These included the set-up, maintenance, caretaking of animals, but my creative drive found expression with paint as I lettered Tickets, Jungle Beasts, Alive and decorative accents on the rolling stock. While we toured Appalachia, they tried the cherry pie trick on me, but because I was motivated and eager, the trick was irrelevant.

That summer whet my appetite to live a more interesting life. It filled me with an enthusiasm and a decision to continue my career in show business. Returning home at the end of the summer, I took welding at night. In January, after graduating from high school early, my fascinating career began. My creative drive, ambition and gift as a painter took precedence over all else and, I began to combine being an artist with travel.