Standing in a country field, my memories take me back to the
day the circus came to town. We knew the day they would come because they had
plastered big signs all over the town telling of their arrival. I was eleven
years old when the circus got into my blood and never left. The sound of the
circus trains whistle was heard in the distance as town folk gathered in this
very field to witness what would be the highlight of their day for some time to
come.
The smell of the animals filled the air as the train slowed
to a stop with screeching brakes and a few sharp blasts of the whistle
announcing it had arrived. Not a second was wasted as the workers got busy
unloading everything needed to erect the tents while others guided the cramped
animals to a waiting field that had been fenced in prior to the train’s arrival.
Further down the cars filled with circus people opened its doors and out they
came dressed in costumes to colorful to imagine. Clowns in every shape and size
greeted the crowd with honks from their horns as they passed out balloons to
the kids. Wives in the crowd covered their husband’s eyes as the most beautiful
women in the world wearing hardly anything, passed by waving and blowing
kisses.
Soon they were all lined up and making their way to town in
a parade that captured my attention and made me realize I belonged there with
them not just as a spectator, but really with them. Times were hard back then.
The great recession took away even the simplest of pleasure except for when the
circus came to town. Moms hid away small coins in a soda tin far back in a
cupboard never letting on to anybody where it was. She knew Dad would be angry
but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, or her.
The first evening performance lit the night sky with lights
of every color and the smell of cotton candy, peanuts and popcorn almost
brought you to tears. Waiting in the ticket line I saw dad pull a piece of
cloth out of his pocket that contained a few coins. After adding the cost for
four tickets he realized he was short by a single dime. Mom smiled and opened
her purse reaching inside and pulling out a handful of coins that she handed
to dad who squeezed her arm and smiled as he bought our tickets. Back then the
price of admission was all you needed to ride the rides, The games of chance
each cost a nickel and we didn’t have many of those so, we would walk through
the games and carefully choose the ones we thought were our best bet at winning
something.
My sister thought the hoop throw was her ticket to a giant
stuffed bear that she said would share her room with her forever and ever. She
never did win one. I was a fair shot back then. My dad taught me to shoot and
my first time hunting I got a turkey that was served that thanksgiving. The
shooting gallery was my game for sure. My first shot was way off to the left,
so I adjusted my sites and tried again. that time it was too far to the right.
With only one shot left I adjusted my sites but this time I shot a little lower
and a hair above center. Bullseye, I won. I had my choice of all sorts of neat
things but eventually picked a wooden toy boat in a bottle. That prize stayed
with me through my younger year and eventually was handed down to my son who
treasured it as much as I did.
Our night at the circus was a family affair that we carried
on for many years. The sights and smells remain with me and always will. In
between graduating from high school and looking for a job, I joined up with the
circus as a grunt which meant shoveling animal poop and any other nasty jobs,
they told me to do. I didn’t mind the work and soon gained the respect of the
other workers who became good friends. I had thought this was just temporary
until something better came along but, one day I opened my eyes and I had been
with the circus for eight years. I eventually became a barker wooing people
into the various attractions and as it turned out, I was pretty good at it. I
fell in love with the star of the main attraction an equestrian who could ride
a horse like no one I had ever seen. She had a bond with her animals that was
special to anyone who saw her perform. Eventually, we were married, and our
first child was born in our wagon between shows. The second child came two years later,
and we were officially a circus family. We saw good times and bad but all those
years in the circus gave us more memories than one could hope for. It was
during winter in Florida that both my wife and I decided our time was drawing
to an end. The circus was hard. Two shows a day seven days a week can tear a
body apart. Our children were grown each with their own acts and would not
change it for the world. Saying goodbye was difficult but after settling down
in a house without wheels we bid them and the circus Farwell. OH, we still go
to the circus every time it comes even close to where we live. Walking up to
the ticket counter I reach into my pocket and pay by credit card. A far cry
from mom and dads’ pieces of cloth containing a few coins. My wife smiles as I
take her hand and softly say, “
WELCOME LADIES AND GENTLEMEN TO THE GREATEST
SHOW ON EARTH”
