Speedy hurled through havoc is a memoire that honors my father, explains the source of my passion and provides pure entertainment as I take the reader through the backdoor into the exciting world of the circus. As the future without the circus unfolded, I had to evolve combining the skills learned on the show-business trail with many of the qualities inherited from my father. I became an inspiring artist, author, speaker and spiritual seeker. Read on to find inspiration and perhaps the segue way for you to overcome the obstacles of your life that really are the gifts that bring about our greatest transformation.
Why I wrote the book; I believe that every mixture of life’s challenges is choreographed to help us discover our true purpose: I have been given my combination as a key to unlock the secret place where transformation, growth, clarity and propulsion is discovered. My hope, my dream, my mission in life is to use these trials, discoveries and gifts to connect, motivate, entertain and to be a blessing to others. I am here to reveal these ordeals to touch your hearts, be an example of optimistic growth and inspire positivity for your lives.
Speedy hurled through havoc is a memoire that honors my father, explains the source of my passion and provides pure entertainment as I take the reader through the backdoor into the exciting world of the circus. As the future without the circus unfolded, I had to evolve combining the skills learned on the show-business trail with many of the qualities inherited from my father. I became an inspiring artist, author, speaker and spiritual seeker. Read on to find inspiration and perhaps the segue way for you to overcome the obstacles of your life that really are the gifts that bring about our greatest transformation.
Why I wrote the book; I believe that every mixture of life’s challenges is choreographed to help us discover our true purpose: I have been given my combination as a key to unlock the secret place where transformation, growth, clarity and propulsion is discovered. My hope, my dream, my mission in life is to use these trials, discoveries and gifts to connect, motivate, entertain and to be a blessing to others. I am here to reveal these ordeals to touch your hearts, be an example of optimistic growth and inspire positivity for your lives.
“Art attracts us only by what it reveals of our most secret self”
Alfred North Whitehead
The Road is a metaphor for life. It also refers to the path a civilization takes toward great accomplishments and achievements. The lure of the road is instinctive to most people, both men and women, issuing an invisible but undeniable invitation to leave everything and set sail on a journey into the unknown, in hope of discovering fulfillment, identity, or happiness. Whether you consider the open road to be a temptation to abandon responsibility or an opportunity to truly find oneself, it often proves to be irresistible. It calls to a secret part of your inner being, faint at first, but incessant. It keeps calling, inviting, pounding away at your resistance until you have no choice but to succumb to its desire.
Trusting and following a hunch or an intuition provides an opportunity to begin the quest. So, you pack your bags, steel yourself, open the door, and take that first step, not knowing where it will lead you. But deep down inside, there's this longing for home: a place where you belong, and people whom you call friends or family. Some call it your tribe. But until you get there, the road itself is your home.
The highway as a home was a concept I chanced upon and began to love right out of high school. So, in 1970 I packed up my drums, a few paint brushes, an extra pair of jeans, and went to join the circus. The routine of steering my rig onto a stretch of road that went in a direction I had never travelled was just one ingredient for adventure. The same environment provided an arena for my emerging talents. Following my heart, I found not only adventure, but an audience for the kind of art I wanted to produce.
As my ability with the brush developed, I learned marketing skills on a grassroots level. My days were filled with creativity and exploration, and it was exhilarating.
In addition to my need to strike out with the hope of finding myself, eventually I realized that deep down I was also looking for my father. My dad was dead-set against my foolish plan, but unknown to me, he secretly he enjoyed hearing my tales of adventure. My experiences with the circus reminded him of his own boyhood love for the circus, and even his early adulthood. So, before I get too far into my own quest, I have to tell you about my dad. In the stories that follow, Billy is my dad when he was a boy, and Fred was his best friend.
Our Animal Connection
I have fond memories of the stories I heard as a child, amazing tales of a by-gone era that my family experienced. My mother often told anecdotes about the activities that used to take place in their neighborhood on the north side of Chicago when she was a little girl.
Coal, ice, laundry, and baked goods were brought to the house by men in their horse-drawn delivery wagons. The milkman had an interesting relationship with the neighborhood. The result of his daily routine was that even his horse knew the route intimately and required no prompting when the time came to move forward to the next house to stand until the delivery was complete.
As if by magic, the horse would perk up at the right time, walk forward the exact number of steps, and stop right in front of the next house. The horse and the milkman grew old together, approaching the end of their career with the advent of the motorized truck. When they finally retired, the man discovered the horse was totally blind. But because of his dedication and familiarity with the routine, the horse willingly continued to do everything he could, not allowing his disability to stop him.
I love animals. I admire their loyalty, willingness to do what we ask, and dedication. It used to be that virtually everyone had a relationship with them. For example, horses and mules deserve a lot of credit for building this country. In the era before the internal combustion engine, teams of equines moved all the materials that became towns or cities, consumables that heated, nourished, clothed, and maintained our lives, and provided luxuries from faraway places.
On the shipping docks and railroad stations of this land, sure-footed mules were used to skid the cargo around the jumble of boxes and crates. They assisted the teamsters taking their freight over the long haul to distant places.
The doctor, circuit preacher, police officer, mailman, and delivery boy made their rounds on a saddle horse. A rite of passage for every child was to learn how to hitch and hook up the family horse. Like most boys, the hot-rodders of that age were referred to as whipper-snappers due to their zealous showing-off and overdoing cracking the whip.
Having a relationship with animals taught a regard for one another, too. People learned the core value of relational consistency. An effective relationship with the family horse required a mutual honesty and respect, which carried over to relationships with people. That understanding continued in the loving connections the family had with the dogs, goats, cats, cows, and even the chickens around the house. Children growing up in harmony with these beings had a handle on the concept of getting along with others, developing what we still call horse sense.
The ability to elicit unusual, entertaining, and almost human behavior from their equine charge was revered. This started at the early crossroads market gatherings, (the forerunner of the farmers fair) and later in the organized enterprise that became known as the circus.
Going back to the early days of our nation, these performances were filled with demonstrations of a skill perfected with horses. Riders danced and did handstands and somersaults while on the back of a galloping horse. Other acts included a horse who displayed almost humanlike capabilities. There were demonstrations of horses counting, spelling, lying down as if to go to bed, and then pulling a blanket over itself. The horse would also sit up, and to add a funny touch, shake his head no, in response to being asked for something else.
Precision drills of multiple animals decorated in a fine harness with feather plumes gave early audiences a display of beauty combined with the brassy music of the day. These acts sought to rival the ballet with agility, fluid motion, teamwork, and a kaleidoscopic sensation that the audience knew took skill, dedication, time, love, and patience. Clowns had four-legged companions who would outsmart them and seem to refuse to cooperate, while the comedian acted befuddled.
The most admirable of all displays was the classic Haute École (schooled to the highest level, high school). This act featured a dancing, prancing horse and a rider who demonstrated fascinating feats of fine horsemanship. These complicated and elegant movements were the result of many hours of athletic training to the precise standards of royalty in Europe.
The effective teaching and execution of these movements amazed the audience. Classic routines included various dance steps, canter changes, and the elegant, slow, and highly elevated trot known as the Passage. There was the movement in place called the Piaffe, the backwards canter, and various poses like the bow, stretch and the sensational hind leg walk. It really was quite a sight to behold.
Because of the overall connection that existed with the horse in that era, the audience had an appreciation and a respect for people as well as the animals. The dedication to the craft and the investment in their animals that these entertainers obviously made required time, patience, and love.
What does this have to do with me and my story? Very simply stated, horses saved my life.
I came from a frustrating, but otherwise loving, family in the Midwest. My older brother was physically challenged and mentally different from most, and my immature adolescent response to his strange conduct was full of contempt, prejudice, and hatred. Watching his behavior led me to the conclusion that I preferred separation from society, so I withdrew into creative endeavors. As a teen, I joined the circus.
In the unique environment of the traveling big top circus, I met people who carried on the old traditions of living, loving, and performing with their animals. I was fascinated with what I saw, so I began to plan a horse act of my own. The result of finding connection with another living, breathing, willing, loving, feeling, thinking, and teachable being was the perfect segue for me to discover that I too am a significant part of this wonderful universe. We share this planet with birds, insects, plants, fish, and whales. We coexist with a host of animals, trees and soil, sunshine, the ever-changing sky, and water in many forms to make the fertile environment for this symphony of nature.
It is amazing to see the perfection that exists for everything to live in harmony, the way a wonderful master plan dictated. The insights I gained working and living with horses led to my finally becoming friends with my mom and dad.
To a large degree, we owe our greatness to our relationship with animals, yet in the twenty-first century, several generations of Americans have not had to interact with them. The result is a giant, growing misunderstanding of nature that seems to be getting worse instead of better.
The mainstream contempt for animals fits with the historic human tendency to wipe out individual species, vast herds, and flocks, and this contempt affects the way we treat other civilizations and ethnic groups. In fact, a growing movement with a twisted agenda threatens our connection with animals by using the strategy of separation. Wow, that is the same strategy I came up with as a child.
We seem to have a collective disregard for the wonders of the ocean, the cleanliness of our skies, the integrity and reverence for our soil, forests, plants, and wildlife. And this disdain seems to be gathering momentum. Human insanity now seeks to promote a separation from the last remnant of horses in our lives and eliminate the carriage horses that provide novelty in our urban situations. They seek to eliminate the opportunity for children to enjoy them.
Also threatened is the traditional role of elephants, who amaze children as a willing performer and help mankind as a work mate. These intelligent, gentle giants were a source of fascination for many previous generations. Now their native land is no longer safe due to an insatiable demand for ivory. Elephants face a questionable future if they cannot live in relationship with mankind. But as we continue to overpopulate and dominate the planet, it seems we are increasingly hostile to our fellow beings. I am frightened by the growing hatred for animals and the animosity towards the people who live with and love them.
In contrast, I personally have discovered the positive results of working with and loving these noble animals. And they helped me establish a connection with the world and the domain of human beings.
Horses showed me how to love, taught me there is a functional aspect to relationships that must be acknowledged. We must demonstrate the value of consistency and faithfulness over the long haul. A connection with horses rescued me from the perception that seeking separation from others was the solution to interpersonal failure. In fact, with horses, I began to sense a unity with the entire universe, and that universe includes the people on this planet, even those in my immediate family.
The process that began with horses evolved into the spiritual understanding I have today. After I began working with horses, I started becoming open-minded, rising above mainstream contempt, and seeking to understand deeper truth. I used to be self-centered and self-seeking, but now I step forward in service to others and seek opportunities to pass along what I have learned. I have an appreciation for the nonviolent resistance demonstrated by Gandhi, Lennon, and Dr. Martin Luther King. I now try to respond to anger and prejudice with love and graciousness. I'm finding out how I fit in this world and how to get along with nature. I have also found a freedom from the shame, regret, contempt, and resentment experienced as a child that made me choose separation in the first place.
I have hope that tomorrow's children will have access to the same discoveries with animals that changed my life. If we can appreciate the animal companions God created for us, as well as the people and cultures around the world, then there is hope for all of humanity to be blessed with an awareness of the truth that we're all in this together. We are the stewards of this earth. Let’s step forward with love and co-create an abundant environment for all of us, including the animals, so we may prosper and thrive in harmony together.
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Boyhood Observations
I grew up in the Midwest, where my most memorable experiences occurred during autumn. Automobile excursions with my father were special. During these trips, I got to sit in the front seat because it was just me and Dad. Beyond the last billboard at the edge of town was where our journeys began. Rural highways opened up before us, with fresh scenery providing a completely different sensation than the compact, urban neighborhood I knew every stitch of. I became the observer and was rewarded with a vast visual feast. Ah, I love fall.
Fields once covered with tall corn had turned to acres of stubble after harvesting. Huge flocks of birds came from nocturnal roosts to find the kernels left behind. The sustenance would nourish them for the long migration ahead. Dad pointed to a dense population of hundreds or maybe even thousands of birds as we drove past these fields. He honked the horn which caused a magical occurrence. The birds, now alarmed, ascended in an instant, and that was just the beginning of a visual wonder.
The mass of birds made a great shape, a massive dark cloud all headed in one direction. Then, like a giant flag, they began wheeling and dipping, together then apart, in ever-changing waves and fluctuating, pulsing shapes. They formed sinuous streams, whirling cylinders, cones, and ribbons that spread across the sky. An undulating, acrobatic rhythm made the mass move in and out of relentlessly changing configurations, forming then transforming a visual poetry.
The instant one bird decided to go another direction to avoid a predator, find food, or investigate a landing spot, the decision rippled to the others, who changed direction in beautiful patterns of synchronicity.
Sometimes, a lone bird headed for a tree or a telephone wire, and a few comrades noticed and tagged along, changing the solo to a trio, a quintet, or a symphony. As the fliers at the edges began to peel off toward a landing site, an unseen force changed the groupthink, and the whole cloud morphed in unison. An appendage grew from the center of the dense flying population, the direction and shape of the mass changing yet again, similar to the relentlessly hypnotic movement in a lava lamp.
As our drive through fertile farmlands continued, I strained my eyes to continue watching the airborne spectacle. Soon, the flock in the distance was two giant lozenges stretched at the middle. One part settled back on the field, now that the danger had passed, but the other part kept flying, heading off towards other lands. This was fun to watch.
It was partly because of these childhood observations that I became fascinated with animals. Later on, I started an association with horses that would continue the rest of my life. This appreciation of nature expanded to include caring about and caring for all living things, promoting health for the planet, and finding out what I can do to make a difference.
To this day, I marvel at the annual migration of birds on the flyway between summer roosts and winter haunts, the way every molecule of this universe is influenced by surrounding atomic relationships, and how these miracles are similar to the social milieu we live in. I am especially grateful for the fascinating array of bonds that exists in this universe.
Although the teachings in church never made sense to me as a boy, an awareness of these cosmic and universal connections prompted me to pay attention to certain voices that had an impact on me. I began to see how these influences started from the core of my being, and then rippled out from me to others in my life. Not every experience was positive. But I waded cautiously because I sensed there was some sort of design behind it all. I sought a greater unison.
As I ponder the mystery of these boyhood experiences that propelled me towards my adult self, I begin to comprehend a personal spirituality and the formation of a metaphor for this story. Perhaps the unseen influence that compels the birds over the stubble fields to undulate and pulse in unison is the same power that moves in human lives and relationships. One bird influences the bird on each side, and the reaction is instant, creating the beautiful movement and shapeshifting. Similarly, each human being impacts the people on the right and the left, and we instantly react. Does our influence create beauty?
I have been blessed by many people. Some came into my life with a definite purpose. I was influenced by their proximity, and what I admired in them became part of my way of thinking and living. Other people I bumped into were less admirable, and their influence wasn't positive. Through discernment, I withdrew from them and took note of the way I did not want to think or live.
I didn’t find much to hold onto in the church, partly because my dad was a minister, and the way he treated his family was worse than the ideal picture he tried to portray. Being cautious, I rarely joined those drawn together for a common cause. But being outdoors, through these observations combined with my thirst to understand, thank goodness I found my start. My newfound connection to the world was real, and on an inner level, I knew that any moment a serendipitous event could prompt a personal spiritual awakening.
As the rhythm of life evolved, like the annual commute of migrating birds, I was on the lookout for the helpful influence from select people around me, while attempting to avoid what was not helpful. A new concept took root and began to grow—humility. And this new reality began to override what the ego insisted was real, rewriting my internal programming.
Unfortunately, what I experienced on solitary outings quickly disappeared when I got back home. The bizarre behavior of my older brother caused me to retreat back into my old ways.
I didn't know what my brother was going through, and I had no compassion for him. I wasn't mature enough, nor did I have any helpful guidance. All I could see was the unnecessary conflict that made life in my parents’ home full of angst and anger, and I reacted in frustration and hatred. Subconsciously, I knew I had to withdraw.
The other kids in the neighborhood picked on my brother, and I began to see all outsiders as unsafe. I didn’t know at the time that we've all been damaged. I learned that lesson much later in life. Perhaps those kids never had someone who modeled loving behavior, respect for others, or healthy boundaries. All I saw in them was cruelty for those who were weak or needy. Again, not knowing how to handle that, I chose to stay away from most people and go my own way.
The truth is that the great flock of humanity is actively pulsing, undulating, changing shapes, going with the flow. This movement isn't always a positive thing of beauty like the flocks of birds my dad and I encountered. Sometimes we are a turbulent, violent mass in conflict with each other, at each other’s throats. We can do better than that, though. We have the capacity to become a poetic, creative, beautiful work of art that undulates in an ever changing and relentless ebb and flow. But each of us must consciously work towards that reality. It won't happen accidentally.
Although I was helpless as a boy, my mature self understands that an upgrade would be to trust in a supreme intelligence or influence, rise above the distractions, experience an epiphany, and then use our gifts and talents compassionately to elevate the experience of the people around us. That way we could all soar to new heights.
Getting Ready for Christmas
A blanket of snow sparkled in the moonlight as a boy left a trail of frozen breath that circled the two-story, Cambridge-style home. He huffed and puffed a trail of vapor much like the steam of a hardworking locomotive. Outside of Columbus, Ohio, Billy was decorating his home for Christmas. The lights from the Christmas tree inside the house illuminated the clean snow of the front yard with a wash of luminescence and blinking color.
Large, double-paned windows flanked the front doorway, with its pillars at ground level and balcony above. In spite of being in the middle of the depression, Billy was motivated to please his father, who loved Christmas. So, he built a nativity for the outside of their home on Coventry road.
For weeks, Billy worked after school, fashioning the Masonite silhouette of Mary, Joseph, and the baby Jesus in a manger, framed by a stable with animals on either side. He made precise cuts with his dad’s coping saw, and used a file for final shaping. When satisfied with the results, he attached the shapes to a wooden frame. Billy also designed back-lighting that made the scene stand out in the dark of night.
After selecting the perfect location high on the front of the house, he installed hooks to hang the display, just as his father, a dentist, stepped outside to admire his youngest son’s handiwork.
“Your nativity scene looks mighty fine Billy,” his dad called out from the open foyer door.
Billy beamed with pride, relishing the approval, and wanting everything perfect. He then surveyed his project from the street.
Born into a professional family, Billy was imprinted with the love his dad had for the church—especially Christmas. Qualities of a relentless perfectionist showed up early in his youth. The carpentry and electrical work that went into this project were precise. During an era of proud craftsmen when people handmade whatever they needed, this young man established an aptitude for developing creative solutions to enlighten, entertain, and educate, with special attention given to every detail. He had created an innovative way of illustrating and illuminating the Reason for the Season.
Circus Morning 1931
“There she is.” Billy elbowed his friend Fred as he pointed down the tracks at the pinpoint of light far off in the dark.
The two boys were part of a large crowd that gathered early to witness the arrival of the locomotive and its amazing procession. A few moments later, the shrill voice of the distant steam whistle augmented the effect of the approaching headlight. The boys had to get up early and wait in the darkness for the circus train to arrive if they didn't want to miss the main event of summer.
As the steam engine loomed closer, the horizon began to glow with the first light of morning. Steam belched in a regular rhythm and gradually came to the waiting crowd, bathing them with steam and a gentle, noxious, sooty smoke.
A dozen double-length, slatted stock cars followed the engine. Fred rightly guessed that the contents were animals. The flat cars rolled past with a load of old-fashioned wagons of many kinds, with poles lashed to their sides. There were tankers, plank loads, and special contraptions with long wagons for carrying the center poles. A countless variety of baggage wagons were lettered with the name: Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey Circus - The Greatest Show on Earth.
Throughout the commotion, Fred gave Billy a running commentary about the purpose of the loads of poles, bales of canvas, and seat planks, since he was familiar with this amazing assembly.
The long train came to a stop, backed into a waiting siding, then stopped again. A plethora of workers emerged from the train. Workmen busily placed ramps under each side door of the stock cars. Large baggage horses wearing work harnesses were led down these ramps. Nimble fingers threaded thick, leather straps into buckles, and un-looped long lines for the teamsters, the men who guided the horses. As more animals emerged from the stock cars, teams of two, four, and six horses were assembled rapidly. The workmen added a fluidity of motion, almost an artistic quality, having performed this task countless times. Once the last trace chain link found its hook, the men moved the teams forward with loud, firm commands.
“Come on Billy!” Acting as a guide, Fred knew to get to the very end of the long string of flat cars.
The boys raced the length of the train to find another crew manhandling the long runs, ramps used for unloading, which were stored beneath the loaded wagons. A variety of jack stands went under each ramp to create a gradual decline the wagons could descend. A teamster driving two draft horses, arrived to pull wagons over the flat cars. Men stretched out manila ropes with a metal hook spliced onto one end. A hook-man then attached his rope onto the dangling ring on the rear corner of the first wagon. Another attached the other end of the rope to the waiting team. Another rope on the other side went around and through the snubbing posts, devices used to govern the descent, controlled by the snubber. The horses responded to sharp commands and leaned into their collars. The wagon rolled forward and down onto the ramps. In a matter of minutes, the efficient crew had all the components in place and the first wagon rolled off the train.
When they were off the ramp, the team stopped. The pull-over hook was removed, and the team wheeled around to get the next wagon. Once the wagon was on the street, a teamster with a long team of multiple horses hooked onto the front. Once hitched, he climbed up into the seat to have his team take the wagon away.
This process was repeated over and over as additional men and horses arrived to move the parade of descending wagons away from the trains and over to the showgrounds. The boys could only guess at what was in the many baggage loads that came off the train that morning in rapid sequence. This activity mesmerized the boys, who watched because they found the danger in the brisk activity fascinating.
As the flat cars yielded their loads and hundreds of horses teamed up to pull the wagons into the distance, an impression was forming in the hearts and minds of Billy and Fred. This launched a commonality in their friendship that would last a lifetime.
A second train showed up, and the unloading continued. This time, dozens of massive elephants and other exotic animals accompanied the endless stream of specialized rolling equipment. The unloading took place in mere minutes. The flats and stock cars were emptied, and the crowd followed the trail of animals and equipment towards the lot. The third, final train arrived full of coaches: the living quarters for the huge cast of circus performers and staff. The boys followed the trail to the showgrounds. Once there, they found wagons placed in various locations, and the unloading of each one was well underway.
The scent of the cookhouse filled the air. The aroma created a total assault on the senses. The army of workers who handled these tasks daily in each new location remained focused, determined to get their work done professionally and on time. The erratic rhythm of the stake driving machines made their mechanized sounds while leaving row after row of wooden stakes pounded into the ground to support the canvas tents.
Elephants in work harnesses pulled long ropes that raised one of the king poles into place. Dozens of men unfolded bundles of dark canvas and laced the components together to form the big top. A whole army of workmen assembled what soon became the Greatest Show on Earth.
The horse tent was built in a similar fashion. Once all the wagons were intact on the lot, the draft horse teams were stabled there, fed and bedded with hay. Dressing room tents went up, and wardrobe trunks were unloaded from baggage wagons and arranged in a specific order for the performers who would arrive from their train.
The menagerie tent went up with the help of another team of elephants. While the crew organized the side poles and tightened guy lines, the cage wagons were brought in and arranged to be cleaned and the animals fed.
Many other tents went up. The side show, blacksmith, and private dressing tents—forty-one in all—turned this entourage into a traveling city, fully assembled by late morning.
Billy and Fred grew up in the affluent suburb of Upper Arlington, part of Columbus, Ohio. In contrast to the life they lived, the ability of the circus to accomplish so much in just one morning exposed the boys to an amazing phenomenon: a lifelong passion to imprint and touch other people's lives like rows of falling dominoes.
Show Time
The tinny voice of the side show talker mixed with the distant sound of lions roaring in their cages. The low drone of the electric generators added to the overlapping sounds, creating an unforgettable audio smorgasbord. By noon, the attractions on the circus midway were ready.
Billy saw the signs painted that depict the bizarre side show attractions, like the fat man, the fire eater, and the sword swallower. The side show also included a tattooed man, a brass minstrel band, and a genuine Indian Fakir with his mysterious sword basket.
“Hurry, hurry, step right up,” nonstop chatter began. “Right this way. This is where you will see the most stupendous collection of bizarre freaks of nature, witness mysterious skills from faraway lands, and watch shocking feats that defy the senses. There is still plenty of time before the main entrance to the big show opens.”
For a token price, Billy and Fred could enter the side show between the ticket boxes and go inside. The interior of the tent was one large open area, with stages dotting the perimeter. A host guided the crowd, starting at the first stage, to see the amazing wonders and attractions. At the end of the tour, everyone was encouraged to step up and look inside the blade box, where a lovely lady somehow survived the onslaught of many swords penetrating the chest where she lay. Then, after seeing these amazing sights, they headed toward the big top.
“Hey, we got red hots, we got hamburgers, we got sausage,” a voice bellowed.
“I’m hungry,” Fred turned to Billy. “Let’s get something to eat.
“We make ‘em the way you like ‘em,” the voice rang out. “We put onions in the middle and a pickle on top.”
The boys smiled and each ordered a hamburger.
While eating, they surrendered their tickets at the main entrance and followed the crowd into a tent filled with animals tied to picket lines, arranged in portable corrals, and displayed in cages. Dozens of elephants stood swaying along one side of the tent. With wide eyes, the boys studied this curious collection. At the other end of the menagerie, the earthy smells of animals mixed with the smell of warm, spun sugar. They squeezed, along with the rest of the crowd, through a maze of popcorn, Cracker Jack, and lemonade stands, through the breezeway, and toward the big top.
“Hey, we got cotton candy,” a man shouted as he dipped a paper cone into a large metal bowl that spewed out the sweet confection. He spun a lazy loop, slowly building a cloud-like shape on the paper cone in his hand. “It makes your day so fine and dandy.”
“Light and fluffy and oh so sweet,” he continued, “Cotton candy is fun to eat.”
They entered the big top with senses already overwhelmed. This massive tent seemed to go on forever. It contained three rings and two stages, essentially five performance areas surrounded by bleacher seating. The track area was filled with people heading to the other end of the tent, right past the best seats.
“High back chairs,” the reserved seat ticket man called. “Two-hour show, high back chairs!”
They wanted good seats right up front, so Fred signaled, “Two” and they paused to look around. The vast canvas arena was supported by gigantic center poles, and surrounded by two rows of long and short quarter poles that provided additional support for the massive tent and an array of rigging.
Fred met the usher at the base of the main grandstand in front of the center ring. The guy looked at their tickets, then guided Billy and Fred up the stair-stepped platform to the seventh row, the best seats in the house. The boys settled into worn wooden stadium chairs and sat upright. They began to observe the details of the humongous performance area below.
Specialized equipment and props were positioned between the rings, which were delineated by box-like curbs decorated with red and white diamond shapes. Novelty salesmen walked through the crowd with furry toy monkeys, whips, and horns dangling from long flexible sticks.
“Snow cones here,” another salesman hawked. “The icicle treat that melts in your mouth and tickles your tongue.”
Clowns scattered all over the grassy arena floor, performing little skits and sight gags to sections of the seated audience.
Finally, a whistle blew. The maestro struck up the brass band to begin a brisk overture. Stragglers hurried to their seats while the clowns made a bee-line for the exit curtains. Then a tall, elegant figure dressed in a red jacket over white breeches, black riding boots, and a top hat strode into the center ring. At the conclusion of the opening song, the ringmaster acknowledged the brass band and turned to the audience with a graceful flair.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” his classic announcement began, “boys and girls, children of all ages,” his voice boomed throughout the big top. “Welcome to the Ringling Brothers and Barnum and Bailey Circus, the Greatest Show on Earth.”
The ringmaster went on. “To celebrate our circus, a spectacular procession will commence at once, reproducing a parade in honor of the great Maharajah in the streets of New Delhi.”
He signaled the start of the show with a sweeping gesture towards the curtains, and gave a shrill whistle blast. The boys realized they did indeed have the best seats in the house. From the curtains on both sides of the bandstand, a parade emerged, with legions of scantily clad dancing girls holding twirling ribbons and bouncing tambourines. Following close behind were a dozen horses with riders playing trumpets and dressed in lavish and colorful costumes depicting the styles of India.
The parade filled the track around all five rings. There were elaborate floats, men leading camels, and another legion of dancers. Long lines of elephants emerged, wearing ornate headpieces, blankets, and howdahs for the riders on top. Several groups of people on horses strode past. A man wearing a turban led a giraffe. Clowns wielded large, funny swords. The entire arena was filled with opulence and wonder. The fantastic sights, smells, tastes, and sounds absolutely overloaded the senses. Every performer with the circus participated in this opening spectacular display, creating immense pageantry beyond imagination.
As the parade left the tent, lions and tigers entered the barred, steel arena set up in the center ring. One at a time, the cats took seats arranged against the back of the big cage.
“Introducing the fearless, youthful trainer who will demonstrate man’s power over the savage beasts of the jungle,” the announcement beamed. “The Ringling Brothers and Barnum and Bailey Circus presents the largest collection of performing jungle-bred black Nubian lions, Sumatran, and Siberian tigers ever assembled.”
The ferocious animals began jumping, standing, and growling. The crack of a whip coaxed the cats into a pyramid, where they posed and snarled. After a while, some of the cats were led out the exit chute. The act concluded with three large tigers leaping through a fiery hoop.
Clowns rushed in to distract the audience’s attention, while workmen made swift work of dismantling the big steel cage. Then another whistle blasted. Dozens of lovely ladies filled the performance area wearing elaborate costumes with tall, fancy headpieces. They took positions all around the track, ready to climb the rigging that hung from every long quarter pole in the tent, to perform the aerial ballet.
Once the ladies were in place, the music changed, and the impresario introduced their choreographed production. Excess clothing was removed by attendants before the women ascended the rigging. The principal trapeze star climbed to her bar over the center ring as a waltz from the band introduced a graceful pace. The beauty and grace gave everyone a chance to catch their breath, but not for long because the aerialist soon combined grace, athleticism, and raw courage high overhead, finishing off each of the long swings with knee, toe, and ankle catches. She concluded by spinning while hanging by her teeth. The entire audience was spellbound, sitting there in awe.
Western trick riders of all kinds began racing around the track, vaulting on and off their horses, standing, hanging, and rampaging recklessly around the track. They were followed by the high jump horses, whose riders seemed totally unconcerned for their own safety. The obstacles were raised higher and higher and then set ablaze for the final jump. The riding star of the day was none other than Dorothy Herbert, who concluded with a flourish as she performed the flaming high jump.
Troupes of jugglers filled three rings and both stages in the tent, followed by a multitude of cute dogs who produced antics that amused everyone. The boys found it difficult to know which act to watch because so much was going on simultaneously. Impossible to see it all!
All three rings cleared, and three groups of draft horses marched into the performance area, followed by three troupes of bareback riders. The large horses cantered around the ring while the riders balanced, jumped, and somersaulted bareback. The act concluded with standing human pyramids on the broad rows of moving equines.
A man performed upside-down, entirely on his head, on one stage, while the prop riggers stretched and set wires up across all the other rings. Then came the balancing ballerinas, with fans and umbrellas, who provided antics on a tight wire at first, then on a slack wire where additional feats of balance and buffoonery took place.
The hippodrome track was next flooded with classic horses and sequined riders.
“Introducing a score of splendid horses ridden by their trainers in a spirited ménage,” echoed throughout the tent. Three dozen horses side-stepped, marched, then lay down and sat up, and concluded with a bow.
“Featuring in the center ring, the Act Beautiful, presented by Mademoiselle Bradna.”
A white horse with wings pulled a wagon whose wheels had a shelf-like addition around each rim that white dogs walked in and on. When the dancing horses left the big top, all eyes remained on Mademoiselle (Ella) Bradna and her elegant collection of white animals. She moved the white horse toward a special prop, and the horse placed his hooved forefeet on a pedestal to assume a praying pose, while flanked by the little white dogs. For the finale, a flock of white doves descended from high above the ring, and flew towards Ella, alighting on her outstretched arms.
Immediately, all three rings were filled with perch performers. This is where an understander supports a long pole with apparatus atop. Two or three performers climb the pole to assume various poses high in the air. Then female gymnastic acrobats, contortionists, and vaulters from various countries invaded the rings to demonstrate a succession of even more amazing feats.
“All eyes are directed towards the apex of the big top,” the ringmaster announced. “Introducing the most sensational high wire feature ever presented by this or any other circus in the world. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, the Wallenda Family.”
From a tiny platform high above, several performers danced across an almost invisible wire. One rode a bicycle. After a pose and a leap, the Wallendas carefully and methodically built a three-high pyramid of seven people, while still on the high wire.
Two men inched out onto the wire, each performer supporting one end of the pole that stretched between them. On each man's shoulders rested curved braces with padding. Another man climbed up to balance on the center of the pole between them. Two other men repeated the process to support another man atop their shoulder pole. The two additional men balancing, received a shoulder pole between them. Seemingly insane, another performer climbed up to the top support spanning these two and balanced high above.
This precarious balancing produced a pyramid; all the while, a drum roll heightened the suspense. This group began to place one foot in front of the other in unison. The entire group in formation slowly crossed the high wire as the audience, sitting on the edges of their seats, watched in suspense. Once at the other side, the disassembly of the human structure occurred just as carefully. When all the Wallendas were safely back on the platform, the crowd heartily applauded their approval. Billy and Fred breathed a sigh of relief.
Immediately, three herds of elephants entered the big top, filling every ring. They ran in patterns, posing and mounting pedestals. Prop handlers lifted round pedestals onto one side and rapidly spun them on one edge to move them in and out of position. They had to perform this task swiftly or get run over as the beasts thundered through their routine. At the conclusion of this part of the show, the giant pachyderms maneuvered into a formation that exaggerated their size.
The groups left their rings and raced around the perimeter of the track—two dozen elephants in single file in front of the audience. This gave the viewers a real sense of their size and power. The boys felt a breeze as procession went past. Popcorn boxes and debris blew in their wake. The lead elephant stopped, and the others followed suit, immediately rising up to put their front feet up on the back of the elephant in front of them. Like dominos in reverse, this pose called the long mount, filled the tent. This established the amazing monster proportions of the herd, as well as the amazing talent of the handlers.
As the elephants left the arena, a multitude of acrobats climbed an interior structure to positions on the curious apparatus suspended above the three rings. These new performers proceeded to spin, leap, and perform dare-devil feats while on three rectangular sets of bars. They were accompanied by well-timed comedy. One guy from each group seemingly goofed up as he attempted to reproduce the graceful movements of the other acrobats.
Then three large troupes, each attired in matching outfits, entered the big top. All three rings had teeterboards, designed to launch a performer who flipped, spun, and landed in a chair, on a perch, or on the shoulders of a comrade.
When the music stopped, the boys noticed the distant honking of animals. To the delight of the crowd, a troupe of seals came bounding in. The animals tooted horns, balanced balls on their noses, and flip-flopped up the ramps to pose and bark in formation, all for the sake of the fish thrown to them.
As the sea-going performers finished their act, large nets stretched across all three rings, beneath the rigging high above.
“Presenting a multitude of mid-air marvels who defy gravity in an astounding and breath-taking series of sensational feats on the flying trapeze.”
The Concellos, the Codonas, and the Harolds ascended rope ladders over the three rings that led to the fly and catch bars high above. The band played a slow waltz as the artists began their swings, leaps, and exchanges across the heights, culminating over the center ring with Alfredo Codona, who accomplished a triple somersault into the hands of his brother. With all the flyers safely on the ground, they took a bow together, in preparation for the conclusion.
Horses came through the back doors, two by two, thirty-six in all. Twelve horses went to each ring. Ring one had sorrel, or red/brownish horses with green harness and yellow feather plumes on the back band and headstall. The other end ring had black horses with blue harness and plumes, and the center ring had palominos with red harness and plumes. One stage had an eight-pony act, and the other had a group of eight zebras.
The big top was filled with liberty horses, or horses that work at liberty, meaning no restraints or tethers. The Big Top became a kaleidoscope of animals running simultaneously in all five rings, combining the colors of heads bobbing, legs moving, and the bouncing plumes enhancing the motion.
Trainers, who stood in the middle of each ring with a long guidance whip, barked out the commands, and the parade of horses in each ring obeyed with beauty and precision. At the exact instant the signal to reverse direction was given, the parade turned and began traveling the other way. The sheer number of animals making choreographed interchanges created a moving and poetic sight.
The next reverse of direction brought the horses four-abreast in orderly formations in each ring. After that, the horses singled out, or returned to single file, and continued to run around the ring. The second half of each group then reversed direction, which meant each ring had an outer circle of horses running in one direction and an inner circle trotting the opposite way, making a colorful, dizzying effect for the audience.
At the precise moment, each trainer assumed a position in the ring, and the inner circle reversed direction. Each group of twelve horses was running around the ring alongside each other like the spoke of a wheel, twelve abreast. As this took place, the zebras and ponies leapt over hurdles on the stages.
There is something special about circus horses. Fred and Billy sat mesmerized at the sheer amount of muscle, flesh, mane, and hoof that moved in beautiful patterns before them. They saw the horses mount the ring curb and walk with their front feet on top around the rings. For comedic effect, the tail horse, bringing up the rear, mounted the curb with his back feet.
Then the horses did a three-hundred-sixty-degree turn in sync to the music. It was a precise and practiced move that delighted everyone.
Finally, the music held a crescendo and the horses halted. The trainers gave the command, and thirty-six horses, eight ponies, and eight zebras reared in unison. Then an army of horse grooms arrived to escort the teams outside.
During the hiatus, a contingent of clowns returned to entertain the audience. A white truck, with a menacing cannon mounted on top, inched into one end of the cavernous tent as a giant net was installed at the other end. A great deal of fanfare accompanied the preparations for the next act.
The ringmaster boomed, “Ladies and gentlemen, introducing the human cannonball, the only living person to ever be shot by a cannon headlong through space.”
Once the cannon was in place and the catch net set up, Hugo the human cannonball stood waving near the mouth of the cannon. He signaled all is ready for his flight across the arena, and then disappeared inside the barrel of the cannon.
The announcer demanded silence to increase the dramatic effect. A drum roll began. The ringmaster started the countdown. 3, 2, 1, Boom!
Hugo Zacchini flew across the length of the tent and into the awaiting net. This final act of the show coincided with lively brass music. The final words of the Ringmaster thanked everyone for their participation and attendance at this year’s event.
Billy and Fred were satisfied. They basked in the sensation of the circus and her wondrous sights. The antics of the clowns, the variety of animals, and the performing artists all were presented at a rapid pace. The sheer number and variety of acts, plus the amazing feats, colors, and the pace, elevated everyone into sensory overload. When it was over, the boys followed the crowd outside.
“I’m tired," Fred confided, "But I don’t want to go home yet.”
With wide eyes, Billy replied, “Let’s see what else is going on.”
The Back Yard
The boys had been at the circus all day and watched the unloading and setting-up from the very beginning. Then they saw the show. Although weary, they now watched the activities behind the tents, far from the midway.
The pace between shows slowed down for everyone. Horses received new shoes at the blacksmith tent. The water wagon man leisurely filled large tubs for the animals to drink from. Performers tended to small personal tasks, and rested or relaxed between shows. Workmen made incidental repairs and preparations for the next show.
Late in the afternoon, everyone ended up at the dining tent where the evening meal was served. After supper, as the clean-up crew packed the last of the dishes, those items were loaded along with the tables and sent back to the train. The empty cookhouse tent came down swiftly as the supporting poles were removed. The crew wasted no time folding and loading the tents. A handler guided a work elephant with a chain apparatus over his neck to pull up the tent stakes.
When the boys heard the band music for the evening performance coming from the big top, they knew the second show was about to begin. From where they stood, they saw the dismantling and tear down, of anything no longer needed. The midway features came down right after the cookhouse. The menagerie was next, and an endless stream of loaded wagons and cages began their trek back to the trains.
Once the elaborate props, animals, performers in costume, and parade floats completed their performance contribution and exited the Big Top, those items were intercepted by wardrobe and property personnel and packed away. When each baggage wagon was full, a teamster showed up to pull it off the showgrounds and back to the waiting train.
Each train received its load in a predetermined sequence to facilitate the procedures required at the next town. Around-the-clock repetition moved all phases of this great show, efficiently accomplishing every facet every single day.
Patrons exiting the seats after the show that night saw the dismantling process taking place. Leaving the Big Top, they found most of the tents and attractions already gone. One hour and fifteen minutes after the show ended, the last loads of poles and canvas were headed back to the train and the show grounds were vacant once again. When everything was finally loaded, the curious collection of marvels, talented troupes, and educated animals headed for the next town.
For the townspeople, the day after the circus was rather anticlimactic. The once pristine lot showed signs of wear and tear due to the wagons, animals, and thousands of people that trudged over the turf. Grass was worn down from the countless feet. The litter of popcorn and peanut sacks evidenced the activity that occurred around three rings and two stages.
With the excitement of the day still fresh in their minds, Fred and Billy began to form plans to produce an even greater show business production in their own backyard. Like many other boys and girls across the nation, they entertained the idea of running away to join the circus. Equally inspired kids in the neighborhood caught the circus bug, too. But one backyard on Coventry Road became Circus Central. A ring was fashioned from the materials on hand.
When Fred was younger, his family traveled to Sarasota, Florida, the winter headquarters of the Ringling Brothers, Barnum & Bailey Circus. While climbing around on the old wagons there, he found a roll of authentic circus tickets. The roll of tickets had the name Sparks Circus printed on them. This became the name for his backyard enterprise.
Rehearsals began immediately. One boy could stand on his pony; another had a dog who could do tricks. Other children learned to juggle, or make a clothesline trapeze hanging from a swing set. They set out to imitate the amazing acts they had seen at the circus. The artistic urge surfaced in Billy, too, and he began painting signs and banners to advertise the affair. His friends selected him to be the ringmaster because he was the oldest. This adolescent love for the circus became the start of a path that influenced many, and would yield surprising results in years to come.
This memoir brings to mind thoughts from the Irish playwright George Bernard Shaw and Oswald Chambers, a world class Scottish evangelist. “Letterfly” as he prefers, rolls out unusual adventures with an undeniably sincere and simple inspiration, and evokes a common hope for those who dare to be co-creators with God. The Florida-based writer learned life’s hardest lesson - as Shaw explained, "It isn’t about finding yourself. It’s about creating yourself."
Chambers takes that further:
It is instilled in us to think that we have to do exceptional things for God; we have not. We have to be exceptional in ordinary things, to be holy in mean streets, among mean people, surrounded by sordid sinners.
In this case, Letterfly’s creation meant to work out daddy issues:
My journey towards self-discovery as an adult demanded that I discover my father as a child. Long before I existed, his name was Billy. I needed to understand his life story if I was ever going to make sense of my own.
Letterfly took William Henry Knoderer, Jr. off the pedestal from which as a boy thought the man looked down on him. "Speedy," as his buddies dubbed him, grew to accept his son’s uniqueness, and that their struggles and dreams were entwined.
With candor that makes this type of nonfiction best, the author confesses that most of his early actions, good and bad, were to gain his father’s approval. When those failed, the then-teen became a roustabout in “the magical world that he (father) was fascinated with.” He joined a string of circuses. That failed, too.
Readers follow the author to maturity through a succession of roles as roustabout, drummer, horse trainer, and artist. The sub-chapters showcase a slew of fascinating folk who nurtured and supported his emergence as a self-described “renaissance man.” Letterfly states:
There is a theme that plays throughout the universe, from the smallest subatomic particles to the vastness of the galaxies...It helps to let go of prejudices, forgive all violations,...become fully present in this moment. If I can live in relationship with the qualities that add up to love, I am at peace with the people in my life.
Lettefly's story is a model for those anxious to be co-creators with God. The good news his adventure and inspiration extend in Tales of a Traveling Airbrush through another seven books.