The year was 1936, and the circus was coming to town. Giant posters were pasted on store fronts listing the date so folks could plan their day. The small town was alive with anticipation, and on the morning of its arrival, kids of all ages milled around, waiting to hear the whistle telling everyone the circus train was coming. Boys to men would line up at the stop to apply for laborer positions to help raise the giant tents and receive a couple of dollars. My dad was 10 years old at the time and, like most in that small town, faced many hardships, so making even a small amount of money would help his family buy food. He was big for his age and strong, a perfect candidate for the grunt work. The circus boss made his way down the long line of those seeking the few positions. He stopped in front of my Dad and asked how old he was. He told them he was 16 and was hired. The work was hard, but he never complained even though his hands were blistered and every bone in his body ached. When the tents were up, the boss man brought them all a sandwich, the only food they'd had all day. Dad told me it was the best meal he'd ever had, except for his mom's attempt to make something out of nothing.
It cost 25 cents to see the circus, so he purchased three tickets for himself and his folks, which his mom didn't like, as 75 cents was money they didn't have to waste on the circus, but it was his hard work that earned him that money, so she agreed they would all go to that evening's performance. A good-sized crowd waited for the tents to open and welcome folks inside, where theyd see the most amazing feats of wonder and breathtaking stunts performed right before their eyes. Once inside and seated, the ring announcer, dressed in a colorful costume and a megaphone, so people could hear him, told the crowd their lives would forever be changed after seeing the greatest show on earth.
There were beautiful girls on horseback and trapeze artists swinging high above the crowd, each slip eliciting screams, while clowns made balloon animals and handed them out to the youngest. Dad said he didn't know where to look next. There was a lion tamer and three lions who did tricks at the tamer's commands, roaring so loudly it scared even the most manly of men. At the end of their performance, the elephants were tied up outside, where, if you were lucky, you'd find some uneaten peanuts on the ground and offer them to the hungry giants. But his favorite was the performer known as the Rocket Man. He'd slide down into a cannon, and with much anticipation, a fuse would be lit, and the rocket man would fly out of the cannon to a waiting net way across the tent to the other side. Dad said the colors and costumes, the bravery, and the perfectly executed stunts were something he'd never forget. Then there were the side shows that surrounded the big tents, barkers shouting to the crowds to step right up and see the 700-pound man and another with a two-headed snake. There was a man who swallowed a sword, and another who blew fire out of his mouth. Conjoined twins and the lady with a full beard. There was a man who stood eight feet tall and a little person who could be balanced on the hand of a clown.
The circus stayed for just two days, giving two shows in the afternoon and late evening. Dad said they couldn't go to two shows as he'd given the rest of his money to Mom, who would stretch it as no one else could. But he and his buddies would roam around the grounds as the show went on, peeking into the tents only to be shooed away by the circus boss. What really impressed my Dad were the colorful circus wagons that served as the performers' homes. Ornate carvings and brilliant colors completely covered the wagons, and he could only wonder what the insides looked like. He got a chance in a million when a wagon door opened, and he got a glimpse inside that was just as beautiful as the outside.
The next morning, bright and early, another line formed to earn 2 dollars taking down the tents, but he had arrived too late and missed out, so all he could do was watch as the animals and wagons were loaded onto the train to begin their next journey to another small town in America. That afternoon, the field that was used for the circus was back to being just that, an empty field that would be used to play baseball until the next time the sound of the circus train signaled the arrival of the greatest show on earth. My Dad loved the circus, and at age 18, he joined it, traveling across the country and bringing smiles to everyone who attended. He trained with the clowns and, before long, became one of the most popular. He designed his own costume and face paint, with a shaggy blond wig, a red rubber nose, shoes 10 sizes too big, and a painted-on grin that gave him the look of happiness.
Dad passed away after 20 years of being a circus clown. His name is remembered as the greatest clown in the world. Now his wagon, which was his home, sits at the circus museum, where his costume is on display for all to see. It's a beautiful wagon, just like the one he saw as a boy, with circus blood running through his veins.
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