history – Letterfly Writes

January 30, 2025

A Wrench in the Works

The Fisher Bros Circus side show during the second season of 1972 was earning a respectable amount of money, with its sheer size and ability to receive a large volume of people fast. The opening spiel by Melvin, the introduction of bally feature King Kong and the announcement that we were going to waive the adult ticket prices for a limited time and admit everyone for child’s admission turned everyone standing in the midway into a customer. Already wearing my change apron, once I had the baboon back in his cage, I returned to the ticket box to sell tickets for a quarter as fast as I could. Because I received a percentage of the till, I was motivated and making good money for an eighteen year old. Once the side show was full and I had the last quarter, I raced to the big top to put on my announcers hat, grab my sticks and prepare to start the performance.

200308311347450.Fisher Bros. Circus Truck

We typically gave a 6 and an 8 o’clock show back to back, which meant with my duties around both shows, I was working continuously from before and during the big top shows, back to the midway between shows, and until tear down was over each night. At the end of the season, while I was putting the pieces into motion that would eventually become my liberty act, a calliope to put on the midway and painting the set of banners for the side show banner line, the show found a place to winter in south Texas at the quarters of Clara Stevens, a tough old widow show broad that had elephants in her past and plenty of circus in her story. In the proximity of the showmen of south Texas, Melvin began to have conversations with others, among them, those that wanted the side show. In my absence, I was unaware that dissention was growing for an ambitious teenager making big money that began to erode any future with Fisher Bros Circus for season three. After a busy winter of finding out what to do, procuring ponies, commissioning harness, a calliope, cargo trailer, fence building and even a stint at marionette puppet presentations, I finally made the jump to south Texas. Upon arrival in winter quarters, I received disappointment in regard to my third season with Fisher Bros Circus. They let me show up to paint the fleet but as the time arrived to open season three, I was told that I would be on Clark & Walters. This was my first lesson in manipulative show business procedure. The anticipation of implied “how it will be,” prior to arrival, and upon showing up, discovering the deal is different, I was to ascertain as a regular, disturbing part of this business. “Show up and it will be different” seems to be a prevalent motto. My side show banners never got painted. After the usual series of activities of getting everything ready for the road, and opening in a nearby town, I discovered a new experience in show business. This attempt at a circus season started with drumming, led to getting stranded in Texas, switching to another show, relying on my painting skills for a while, coming up with another strategy and jumping across the country to another show. The Silverlake family produced some talented individuals, not all of them had business prowess. During the years together as a family, the Clark & Walters Circus enjoyed success. Relational stresses over time caused family members to choose their own direction. Melvin was the first to leave and launch his own show and was fortunate to have his father in law booking the towns. Raymond Duke had a working knowledge of small town America, the place where he knew this small circus would thrive and the ability to make selections with short jumps between them. Melvin’s brother Jimmy left the family to launch Lewis Bros Circus with a partner that soon thereafter morphed into his own venture called Barnes and Daily Circus. This left only Franklin and Joe to help mom and dad run Clark and Walters. With only remnants of the family left, the Clark & Walters circus attempted the long jump into Texas for the winter but without any capable family members left at the helm, would die a slow death attempting to jump back out of that state in the spring (Texas in the spring is not as entertainment hungry as the fertile towns in the Midwest).

Franklin was the remaining family member who assumed being in charge of the show. Although quite talented, his consumption of hard liquor impaired sound business decisions. As the primary decision maker, as the show began playing the towns in Texas in the spring, the wind was always blowing and that seemed to be the excuse Franklin needed to not put up the big top. Instead he put up some seats and some sidewall and all the performers had to attempt to perform in the open in the wind. Buzz Barton came to visit the lot one day with some small tents to sell. I bought one and even had a conversation with him about playing the drums in a completely different venue; a traveling girl show. Buzz had married the gorgeous daughter of a carnival burlesque show producer and had framed his own show. Morphing from vaudeville entertainment, the girl show had been a traditional part of county fairs for years but was on the way out due to local night clubs in every urban area beginning to offer a glimpse of nude and near nude women. If I would have become his drummer, I would have experienced the last remnant of that facet of show biz. Day in and day out, the seats and the ring curb went up without a big top and the performers attempted to work in the wind. Aerial acts did not work at all. The show looked pathetic on the lot and the compromised performance was sad. Other dissention began to erode the attitudes of everyone on the show. Impaired judgment caused by alcohol consumption caused a wreck one morning between the elephant semi and the generator truck pulling a performers travel trailer. The huge semi ended up on its side smashing the other trailer underneath. The elephant was unhurt but the female performer’s belongings were scattered and smeared flat alongside the road. Apparently, the booking agent was just as incompetent as the canvas boss and the show ran out of route several weeks into the season. The experience was pathetic; the show limped along with holes in the route until it died its inevitable death on a muddy lot, halfway up the east coast of Texas. Stranded without a circus, I was to discover the real value of having developed my skills with paint and brushes.
I found out that Daily Bros Circus was on the road nearby. After finding the show, I got a job painting on their fleet for a few weeks while I scouted out another situation for the season. They didn’t have a problem putting up their big top each day. Although Gopher enjoyed having my beautiful artwork on his show trucks, he didn’t need my talents in the performance. After the fleet was decorated, I drove my camper to the beautiful areas of east Texas – Aransas pass, Victoria and Roll-over pass – to enjoy some quiet time with my dog at the beach before gradually moving north. The Michael family had spent their previous summer on a circus in Ontario. Pleased, they were returning for another season. Lynnie got word to me that Royal Bros Circus needed a band. I had commissioned a cargo trailer in Elkhart to mount my new calliope in. In an effort to help me out, my dad went to get it with his station wagon and take it to his home in Kansas City, where they had moved the year before. They had a concern about my sister who had withdrawn into simply remaining in her room and thought that an adventure with the circus would do her good. The plan was to have her at the keyboard and me at the drums. We would become the band for Royal Bros Circus in Ontario. I was learning that switching shows mid stream and changing my strategy midstride was sometimes a necessary part of this business. On my way to Canada with the recently purchased calliope and my sister, I had the opportunity to stop enroute to see the baby ponies in the field at Hayes farm. The boss met us at the Port of Entry and after the immigration and Customs people were satisfied, we followed him to the lot.

December 11, 2024

Season Two of the Circus

The plan for the second season was to spend another summer in Michigan, and then pursue a route that would take us to Texas where we would winter in the sunshine of the Rio Grande Valley. The season opening meant that I changed roles, morphing from fabricator and decorator into assuming the set-up and tear down of the side show on the one day stand routine that brought circus entertainment to small towns. During the Fisher Bros Circus season of 1972, I was moving a 30’x60’ tent, had eighteen animals on foot, eighteen animals in cages with two men working for me. Soon a hippopotamus would be among the component of animals.

The second season also introduced twin bandstand trucks to flank the back door of the big top. Marie Loter was on organ and myself as drummer and announcer.

Another attraction was added to the concessions for the second season of Fisher Bros Circus. Jim Kernan brought his small Wienie Wagon concession stand. Jim’s presence offered candy apples and hot dogs to the audience in the seats. Each afternoon Jim would sing in a pleasant baritone while he made the candy apples.

Jackie also showed up from the rodeo scene with her tight and bright metallic looking western wardrobe. She presented a whip cracking act and commanded a lot of favorable attention. Jackie was a good-looking lady and her traveling companion was a large white dog.

During the first season, our show had no water wagon. Raymond Duke was the show’s agent who always booked the show on a lot with a water access. One of the new pieces of equipment in season two was a water tanker. In order for my camper/bandstand pickup to qualify for paid fuel on the show, I was recruited to pull the water wagon. The wagon was made from a pickup truck frame with an elongated square tank resembling a box. Towing the water wagon required that I stop prior to coming onto the lot to fill it each morning. I quickly learned how to divine water from unfamiliar towns and counties.

I discovered that getting water for the circus would get bogged down in red tape if I sought permission. I figured out how to speed things up. During the week, all churches were mostly vacant. To find a church with a hose bib on the outside of the building provided fast and easy access to water. Weekends, when church was busy, I would look for a school to get water in the same manner. But filling up a several hundred-gallon tank with a water hose took time. So to not hang around looking suspicious while the water filled the tank, I began to take early morning walks once the tap had been turned on. This allowed me to enjoy exploring the new town while not arousing suspicion that water stealing was going on. On the walks I discovered old remnants of feed mills, thriving downtowns and lunch counters in the local drug stores. Neighborhoods provided an endless variety of visual wonder for me to observe. I found I could enjoy olfactory stimulation while the water tank was filling.

Circus entertainment in the early seventies still had influences that lingered from the day of horse and carriage. Famous jungle explorers had brought exotic animals to the forefront of the imagination of every child. The exploration of the world brought many live attractions for touring entertainment productions.

Northern Ohio contained the winter quarters and farm of exotic animal showman Tony Diano. The opportunity to purchase his hippopotamus included a large animal cage semi-truck that sported a large water pool and a platform for the feeding and comfort of Ava the hippo. She was named after a popular movie star of that era.

Ava the hippo needed a change of water in her pool daily. I received more cherry pie with the support duties of Ava. Every morning the swampy water had to be dumped on the edge of the lot to lighten the load before the jump to the next town. Once at the next lot, I began the erection of the side show tent and one of my men scooped the hippo cage clean. Then, I took the hippo semi downtown to the fire department and asked them to hose down the hippo and fill the tank. This task was always met with enthusiasm and drew a local crowd. When the tank was full, the heavy rig was carefully driven back to the lot and positioned adjacent to the side show for the paying patrons.

Animal presentations with various creatures accomplishing all manner of feats were part of traditional circus performances during the golden era and they were appreciated because the general population still had horse sense, due to their connection with horses. People revered and cherished the special gifts of a trainer who coaxed his animals to accomplish amazing feats. I developed a passionate interest observing the unique skills of the trainer of circus animals while drumming for these acts during the show. Discussions between shows and particularly at the cookhouse with trainers reflected this.

Billie Grubb was our cook. She was plump, short and her perpetual smile accompanied plain cotton clothes. She had a sprout of short grey hair. Her country accent radiated from the kitchen in a converted white school bus with red lettering and scrollwork down the sides. A small tent with portable tables was set up beside this galley each day. Breakfast was a challenge sometimes, depending on the lay of the land. The largest and flattest area on the lot was primarily used for the big top and seats, and the show cookhouse tent was sometimes set up on a hill. Because of this, the dining tables were often slightly tilted, creating a challenge when eating pancakes. Instead of pouring syrup onto the stack and having it run off the side of the paper plate, we learned how to first cut a square hole in the middle of the pancake stack and pour the syrup into the hole.

A peek at my future occurred while standing in line at the cookhouse. Billie always graced us with encouraging conversation. She noticed my interest in trained animal presentations. As I inched toward the kitchen window, I heard an innocent enough observation about my interest with performing livestock.

“Hey Drummer Boy, you ought to have a pony act of your own” suggested Billie the cook as she dished up my meal.

The others on the show observed my fascination with Liberty Horses. The harmony between the trainer and a group of horses performing At Liberty, or without any tethers or restraints of any type. This is traditionally regarded as being the most elite of the circus performing arts. From the bandstand, I observed these liberty routines at every show and in the backlot, interacted with the same animals as I helped the trainer with his chores.

“My husband could train them for you,” Billie continued as I left her proximity with my meal and sought a seat.

Our cook was from Hugo, Oklahoma. She was the wife of Bob Grubb, an old-time cowboy and horse trainer. Together they had a liberty horse acts and other performing horses in many shows over the years. She suggested that I might want to meet her husband Bob someday and see if he could help me train an act of my own. This invitation prompted a new flood of ideas.

November 12, 2024

Meeting Hayes

The year was 1971. I was on the first season of the Fisher Bros Circus, a show I helped build. During the only free time between set up and two shows, I had been tipped off that a fan was on the lot and had some circus pictures to see. Most of the circus people had an attitude toward any fan wanting to see the show for free, but I usually joined them to share their enthusiasm. As I rounded the corner of the tent, I found a friendly, tall man standing behind a green station wagon

I was greeted with; “Do you want to see some circus pictures?”

Instantly captivated, I pored through the albums stacked on the open tailgate of the wagon. In awe, I peeked at the recent history of the big top shows that he had seen and photographed.

Alien names like Sells & Gray, Hoxie Bros. and Kelly-Miller came to life as I turned each page scrutinizing each carefully considered image. What was valuable was the content. The layout of the support vehicles in regards to their context to the big top and the unique manner in which each semi was racked for a specific task or load. Or the action of the stake driver and spool truck. There were pictures of livestock trailers in repose, the cook house shown as a social center and the action at the concession department. Also depicted was the light plant, and bunk house and performers handling the activities of their specialty. As I studied these images, my mind started working coming up with additional ideas and plans for my career.

“It rhymes with Spaniard,” interrupted my focus.

I looked up, completely absent from the conversation. I was totally engrossed with looking at an amazing collection of photos. I glimpsed a grinning face, partially shaded beneath a well-worn hat. Fidgeting with a long brown thin cigarette, Hayes produced a cackle of nervous laughter, the result of self-satisfaction with his joke.

Beaming, and wanting me to understand him, he repeated the well-worn rhetoric.

“Ganiard,” he double-clutched, “My name rhymes with Spaniard, Hayes Ganiard.”

As I pored over the many photographs this man had witnessed, I had questions. These photos opened up a whole new world. With each question about a detail in a photograph, my host did his best to explain what he knew about the picture. I had seen old photos in books before, but this collection of traveling truck circus photos shot personally by this man made it seem more real – like seeing the rings of Saturn through a telescope for the first time. As Hayes explained the various aspects noticed and captured masterfully in his photographs, together we discovered a common ground upon which to build a connection.

The images accommodated a friendship with this round, friendly and beaming Michigander. Hayes Ganiard was a friend to the circus, providing help to the showmen who traversed southern Michigan in any way he could. I learned that he booked dates for Al G Kelly & Miller Bros Circus, became fast friends with circus greats Stu Miller, Ted Lavelda and others. I learned later that Hayes even convalesced an injured camel on his farm one summer. That act of chivalry made Hayes a local celebrity.

Hayes came to visit Fisher Bros Circus several times that first summer while we were in Michigan. With each visit, I found more to admire in the heart and soul in this middle-aged farmer with flat feet. He told stories about situations he saw, personalities he had gotten to know and as an admirer of everything circus, he found his love for the circus.

Hayes Ganiard was born into the wealthy family of the founder of the Hayes Wheel Company, that later became Hayes Industries, Kelsey-Hayes, and finally; Hayes-Albion. Hayes had a boyhood friend named Jack Paar. They both enjoyed tending to the homing pigeon hutch on the top of Hayes large home in Jackson, Michigan. Raising the birds filled the boys time that otherwise did not have a chance to become idle. Together they swapped birds and wrote little messages to tie to their legs. The boys often rode on their bicycles to release the birds and raced home to retrieve them. These pigeons often flew long distances. Jack Paar went on to become the host of the Tonight Show preceding Johnny Carson. Every New Year’s Eve he made a phone call to his boyhood friend Hayes.

During the depression, Hayes was one of the only kids at school who had nice shoes. He was teased mercilessly promoting a distain for family wealth. Hayes was inspired one summer by the circus. While enjoying the summer with family in the Hamptons, his father took him to New York to see a gigantic tented circus. It moved by train and included an army of people, elephants and horses. He saw the monumental task of setting up the tented city each day to give two performances before being taken down and loaded back on the train. Experiencing the Ringling Bros Barnum & Bailey Circus was love at first sight. From that point forward, deep down inside, Hayes had a secret longing to go and belong to the circus.

When Hayes grandfather was ready to nurture him for a life in business, Hayes announced that he wanted to be a farmer. His grandfather then bought a thousand acres of farmland on Jefferson Road near Clark Lake and a large Jersey dairy herd imported directly from the Isle of Jersey as a wedding gift. The pattern of up before dawn for the milking routine seven days a week became firmly established. He had the top dairy herd in the state for five years standing. Hayes and his wife Virginia raised three girls.

Their home always had an orphan baby being nurtured. Either an injured bird or squirrel convalescing in the kitchen, or snakes, frogs, guinea pigs, rabbits, goats, raccoon and a weasel. There was an endless stream of mice caught in a humane, live trap. The joke was that Ginny was simply catching the same mouse over and over. This was something Hayes finally proved with a little red nail polish applied to the mouse.

When his career as farmer and father changed, Hayes had the time, energy and resources to pursue his secret love. He began to make a photographic record of the circus for posterity. He took pictures of quaint big tops, nicely painted semis, flashy but seductive costumes and exotic animal attractions. He also had anecdotes associated with each one and was ready to enlighten me, an enthusiastic seventeen-year-old. Hayes was a natural born storyteller who had the keys that opened the door to this fascinating world.

The circus would leave the proximity of my new friend in south central Michigan, but we stayed in touch. Hayes extended hospitality with an invitation to visit him at his home. A half a year later during the winter, I drove to Michigan. With a light covering of snow blanketing the territory the circus had covered, I found my way to Clarklake to visit my friend at his home.

His elegant white Greek revival home on Jefferson Road sat on a rise in the shade of large Oaks, Austrian pines and evergreens. The first time I stopped by, I was somewhat reluctant to park my camper where Hayes insisted, on the front lawn of his house. I entered the five-pane beveled glass wooden front door and went through the formal foyer, where the old grandfather clock from the C B Hayes estate seemed to greet me.

The home was warm and felt lived in with many antiques. The wallpaper and paintings on the walls reflected themes of fox hunting. The living room had a shiny broad plank wooden floor. The comfortable sofa became a warm refuge for me for a couple of nights. Over the large stone fireplace hung a Revolutionary War era rifle with a wooden ramrod and flint clamped into the hammer.

Also, prominent in the living room was Hayes father’s baby grand piano. The girls still had fond memories of when their grandfather came to visit and played for them. They remember their grandfathers carefully trimmed fingernails making a delicate sound whenever they came into contact with the ivory keys. While in close proximity, this nuanced sound added a special touch not available to most audiences. During my visits, Hayes daughter Julie often filled the home with lovely music as the result of her prowess at the Steinway.

My two-day stay revealed the world of a big-hearted storytelling, family man with broad interests. In addition to talking more about the circus, Hayes elaborated on the wheel making business that his family was involved in. The Hayes Wheel Company made breakthroughs from the time of the spoked handmade wheel that followed the wagon and carriage trade into the automobile era with a stamped one-piece steel wheel. Farming and many related specialties were a source of fascination and fodder for more tales. His one-eyed dog “Nipper” was cautiously alert and always by his side. He was the subject of several of his stories.

Hayes had three daughters, two of which were married and out of the house. He had a lovely wife, Ginny. Although she was less than enthusiastic about my stay at their home, Hayes made up for it to her with his enthusiasm that suggested a hidden longing for a son. A son interested in many of the same things he was passionate about. He approved of my ambitions.

Encouragement for my ideas was something I hadn’t received from my own father, who instead insisted and hoped upon an entirely different direction for my life. Hayes became a mentor. Listening to my ideas and becoming a conduit for many other connections, Hayes would broaden my world in Jackson County. I received encouragement from Hayes to become a better artist, animal lover and showman. He listened to my ideas and encouraged me to pursue these ambitions. Our friendship continues to this day.…

September 25, 2024

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.

July 18, 2024

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.