Under the Big Top: A Season with the Circus

Once reacquainted with the circus, I set out to find the perfect show to join. From a friend, I learned of an organization called Circus Fans of America (its motto: “The Greatest Hobby on Earth”); from its treasurer, Irvin Mohler, I learned of the Circus World Museum in Baraboo, Wisconsin (the original home of the Ringlings); and from its librarian, Fred Dahlinger, I received a list of every circus in America, which was a surprising four pages long and contained 117 entries. At the outset I narrowed myself to tented circuses, ones with greater mobility, deeper access into the country, and more grit. This cut the number to thirty-seven. Next I aimed for large, high-quality shows, with a wide variety of acts and a full cast of animals. This reduced the list to six. I wrote letters to each of these shows and told them of my plan: I would like to travel with their circus for a season. I’d be prepared to do my part—pull ropes, shovel manure, whatever they needed—but most of all I would like to perform.

I sent off the letters in late November and sat back to wait. To my surprise, all six shows called back almost immediately and said they were interested in hearing more about my idea. In order to decide which show was best, I ventured out a month later on a circus parade of sorts—from Washington, D.C., to New York City; from Sarasota, Florida, to Hugo, Oklahoma. It was during this trip in January 1993, on the two hundredth a

“Sit down. Welcome to Florida. Let me buy you a drink.”

I met Doug Holwadel at the Lobby Bar, across the hall from Sonora Sam’s Restaurant in the Holiday I

After Happy Hour, Doug took me to di

As we sat for a fourth after-di

The next morning Doug drove me to winter quarters to meet John W. Pugh, his partner and the president of the circus. By the end of the previous evening I had persuaded Doug to change his “no” to a “maybe,” but still he had made it abundantly clear that Joh

It was not until later in the morning, with the arrival of the marketing department, that the mood began to change. “What a great idea!” said the national marketing director in a voice I soon recognized was taken as the word of God. “Just think of all the publicity we can get out of him.” Almost instantly I could see the idea gaining strength as it nodded around Joh

That evening I was invited to have di

It was the profession of Lou Jacobs, model for a 1966 postage stamp, who died in Sarasota in 1992

.

The question, which all of the contestants and all of the people in the room got right:

What is a clown?

“Damn, her toenail sure is big.”