Traveling under the Big Top

Philadelphia was our first date for the circus under canvas. Another first: we would be contending with rain, wind and lightning, floods, cold and hot weather, which, while performing in Madison Square Garden and Boston Gardens, had not been a consideration, as both buildings had been enclosed. One of the worst to contend with was mud. We have seen elephants stuck in mud up to their bellys, and tractors would have to be used to pull them out. I really think the elephants enjoyed being stuck, as they seemed to smile when pulled out. If one elephant was hooked up with pulling gear and went in the mud while pulling another elephant out, they would both seem to giggle about having to have a tractor pull them out.

Now under canvas, the full circus goes into operation. The advance men would go ahead and pick out the towns, the lot's location (not too far from a railroad sidings), make the deals, do the posting and advertising. In general, they would lay all the ground work for the circus trains to arrive. There were four trains: the first train carried the land clearing and leveling equipment, along with some workmen and the elephants, canvas, rigging, ropes and stakes. These were all loaded and packed in wagons which had to be moved from railroad cars to the circus lot by trucks, tractors and elephants. The second train brought more canvas, rigging, wagons, trucks and tent erection crews. The third train carried animals, the sideshow, buses, cook-tent, power plants, performers' rigging and seats. The fourth train held the performers, wardrobe, office wagons, office personnel, the band and instruments. The circus was a traveling city, all within itself.

In 1941, the U S Army made a study as to how this was accomplished. It has been my good fortune to see and experience a lot of what this world has to offer, but to this day I am amazed at the remarkable efficiency with which Ringling Brothers, Barnum and Bailey, could move that city of 1,500 people and four trains, the Big Top, and all the other tents, maybe 15 to 20 of them; power plants that furnished lighting for all the circus, the horses, lions, tigers, gorillas, elephants, the feeding of all those animals and the hands that cared for them. The trains, erection, tear-down, canvas crews, along with all the front office personnel and the performers. All of that could be moved from trains, set up, two shows perfomed, all of it torn down, packed, loaded on board the trains again and moved to the next town, and within a 24 hour day. I don't believe the U S Army has been able to reach that kind of efficiency even yet. Keep in mind, the circus made a profit and as it left each town, that town could hardly wait for it to return the next year.

While playing in Philadelphia the first week under the canvas tent, the Wallendas fell while doing a high-wire routine, with four or five of the family involved. The worst one hurt was Joe Wallenda, who suffered a broken leg. He was taken at once to a hospital where the leg was set and a cast applied. Joe was in pain and he was told to stay off his leg for a few days. That night, for the evening show, there was Joe up on the high-wire, doing the act as if the leg cast did not exist.

Remembering the Wallendas that first week under canvas: Carl Wallenda and I had become friendly by dong little things to help each other. One particular day, Carl was up on one end of the high-wire, where there are small platforms that hold the bicycles and balancing poles. Carl saw me walk into the Big Top during tween-shows and he called down for me to come up and please give him a hand. It looked to me like he was having trouble with part of his rigging. So, up I went to help. When I reached the platform, Carl said, " get up on my shoulders, stand and reach up, and loosen a twisted rope." That I did, then Carl turned with me still standing on his shoulders , picked up a balance pole and off we went across the high-wire to the other platform. Never having been on a high-wire before, this scared me so badly, I could not move or say anything. On reaching the other platform, Carl said, "Now reach up and untwist the same rope as on the other platform." That I did and came off Carl's shoulder, still so shaken that I didn't speak. Carl said, "I knew you were not frightened by height, so anytime you would like to, come work with us. " Little did he know that it was him that frightened me. He did things that were far too dangerous and were not necessary to keep up the good name of the Wallendas. Carl died while walking a high-wire between buildings in Puerto Rico. A strong wind blew him off the wire. Carl was aware that the wind whipping between the buildings was a danger. If Carl had been younger, he would not have fallen. His mind knew to grab the wire, but at his age, his body did not react fast enough.

The Wallendas were a fine and proud family, and Betty and I became close friends with them. Carl was married to Helen, Herman was married to Lee and Joe was single. At that time, there were only five people in the act. Our daughter, Connie Lee, was named in part for Lee Wallenda, who was a beautiful, gracious, and fun-loving woman. She was also named after another friend of ours in the circus, Connie Clausen, who I will talk about later. Lee and Herman later divorced and Lee replaced the Kirmrist girl when Vera was badly hurt in an auto collision.

In the dressing tent and across from my trunk was the German fellow who did the act of piling tables one on top of the other. Then, at a height of approximately thirty to forty feet, he would sit in a chair placed on top of all the tables. He would rock the stack of tables back and forth, back and forth, until the angle of falling was just about reached. He played this angle of fall back and forth, keeping the audience in suspense. With each rock, the tables would almost fall, with him still in the chair on top. He did this act well, and when the tables finally fell, he would hit the ground and and roll to a standing curtsy. The audience loved him.

One morning early, I came into the dressing tent, and he was at his trunk with a pile of women's clothes beside him. With a large pair of scissors, he was cutting each piece of clothing into very small pieces. I stood there watching him. He did not say a word, just kept cutting. Finally, I got up enough nerve to ask him what he was doing? He said he had caught his beautiful young wife talking with a young man. He would not have that kind of action by his wife, so he was getting rid of everything he had given her. He must have destroyed thousands of dollars worth of clothing. I offered the opinion that he may be a little hasty with what he was doing. It turned out that I was right. In a couple of days, they were back together and he had to buy her a completely new wardrobe. He told me later he wished he had stopped when I said he was being hasty. Of course, his wife learned how to acquire a new wardrobe.

Further across the trunks, and in another line, several clowns all had their trunks placed side by side. Most of the gentlemen had been Broadway and burlesque performers and just loved the
show business so much that as long as they could perform some kind of act, they would not give up. There were a few that were famous from the clown characaters they created, such as Lou Jacobs, with his small automobile that held at least ten clowns. Paul Jung, with papier-mache heads he created for the clown numbers. Almost all of the fellows kept in their trunks a tap-board, a board of half-inch thick plywood. It was 18 inches wide by 24 inches long. When placed on flat, level ground, it became a floor for practicing tap-dancing steps. One of the joys of the older fellows was teaching tap steps to us younger fellows. We were known as the "first of Mays" that being our first year on the show. Of course, the way to get back with them when they called us that was to say, "I'd rather be a first of May, then the 'Last of November', " but when you said it, you'd better be running.

One of our favorites was the clown Johnny Tripp, known in the circus world as "Professor Love." As soon as the season started, Professor Love went right to work matching up all unattached people. Sometimes if he was having problems finding matches, he would spend hours talking to individuals about other individuals to try to work out a happy match. Often, during the season, couples would seek out advice from Professor Love to keep together the match he had engineered.

to be continued.....The Christianni's and the circus fire