Greatest show on earth

 Like most summers growing up, the anticipation of the circus coming to town consumed our thoughts. We knew it was imminent when the vibrant pre-arrival posters went up all over town. The colorful advertisements, featuring elephants leading the way and unique clowns, made every kid jump for joy. Some of the older boys would get paid fifty cents to help raise the big top by pulling on ropes, while the younger boys eagerly watched, waiting for their turn in the summers to come.

On the day of the circus's arrival, we positioned ourselves on our bicycles at the edge of town, waiting for the music that signaled it was getting close. Then it happened: we heard the music and the sound of elephants almost within our sight as we sped off to meet the greatest show on Earth. It was a fantastic sight to behold—the circus band, dressed in their colorful costumes, led the way as beautiful ladies twirled their batons, some throwing them so high we could barely see them drop back into waiting hands.

We followed the parade along the sidewalks, ringing our bicycle bells to warn people that we were coming and to encourage them to move aside. The local beat cops waved us off and occasionally gave chase with smiles, reminiscing about their youth doing the same thing. Then came the circus wagons, accompanied by the sounds of roaring lions and tigers that made everyone take a few steps back as the mighty cats passed by.

The parade ended at the fairgrounds, a name given to Farmer Brown's cornfield, which he leased to the circus every year for as long as we could remember. My dad said Farmer Brown made more money from the circus than he would from a corn crop, so it became known as the fairgrounds.

That night marked the first performance, with everyone in town eagerly awaiting the ring announcer's booming voice, welcoming each and every one to the greatest show on Earth. We watched in awe as horses with riders standing on their backs went round and round the ring, trying unsuccessfully to catch the peanuts we had bought for a nickel. We laughed until we cried as we watched the clowns clamber into a tiny car together, wondering how it was possible.

There were lion and tiger trainers cracking whips to direct the big cats over obstacles, braving danger with every snap. Not to be forgotten were the massive elephants, shaking the ground with every step as their trainer climbed onto their trunks and circled the ring, sitting atop their enormous heads to the delight of everyone.

The show ended with every performer circling the ring, waving to the audience, who truly got their dollar's worth. The circus stayed for three days, then marched out of town with the band playing and big cats roaring, as we rode our bicycles alongside them while the beat cops turned away. I managed to take down a pre-circus poster that I still proudly display in my house—a reminder of my youth and the greatest show on Earth. 

— Mike, 2025