Evening Star Newspaper, April 20, 1930, Page 92

£ 20 THE SUNDAY STAR, Billows of White And Banners of Gold. Thrills at the Top of a Circus Tent—Diving Through Space From a Swinging Trapeze. An Aerialist’s Memories of Life With the " Big Show—Back of the Scenes. EDITOR'S NOTE: The author of this article, after years of circus life in all the big shows, risking her neck at every performance, was Sfinally crippled in an accident and - forced to retire. The accident, hoze- cver, had nothing to do with the circus. It was a motor accident. Miss Zarado now lives in Los Angeles. She gives here a vivid, colorful account of life under the “big top.” . BY JAY ZARADO. P at the top of the circus tent, on a flying trapeze, a small white and gold figure spun dizzily. Over and over the slender steel bar it turned, . now hanging by. its toes, now by its knees, now by its hands, now dizzily holding by its teeth. Now it swung head downward, cling- ing by the very tips of its toes. Far beneath it on the ground @ man held one ond of a rope, the other end of which hung just beside the white and gold figure on the trapeze., He .held it far away, so that it did mot” touch the swinging acrobat, whose out- stretched hands reached toward the audience v atching from the seats below. The man with the rope stumbles; the rope, suddenly released, swishes toward the swinging figure, strikes it, dashes it from its slender grasp, and down through space hurtles a flash of white and gold, while up above the bar swings crazily. 4 Now the rope in its erratic course swerves to- ward the falling figure; the outstretched hands r2ach toward it, grasp and hold it; the hurtling {ure, falling head downward, stops with a ‘ork, the legs whip down, and, a scant yard from the ground, the white and gold figure - svings clear, steps off, and takes a bow. The audience applauds the daring trick; the acrobat climbs up the length of rope to the crazily svinging trapeze above and finishes her act. . No one in the crowd knew that it was a fall, that only chance swung the rope toward the falling woman; but I knew it! I was the white und gold figure, and I had a pair of sore shoul- ders for a while to remind me of it. Y experience has included 22 years on the road, and 15 seasons of aerial trapeze work with circuses, at parks and fairs, in vaudeville 2ad indoor exhibitions of all kinds. My work l'as included trapeze, a rope called the Spanish web, “iron jaw” (hanging by my teeth), rings; singing and dancing. My rigging usually hung 49 feet from the ground, and I have never had a safety net below me. 3 ¥ liked circus life best of all. I liked the asso- c ation in the dressing room, I liked the travel- ing in the circus cars. Out of doors all the t'me, in all kinds of weather and in all parts of the country! In the many years during wvhich the circus has been an unfailing source of pleasure in the United States, its repertory and types of performance have varied little. One of its fixed institutions used to be the parade, and every time I read how good for the health is an early morning ride I think of the dressing room in the days before the parade was discontinued. We used to leave the sleeping cars somewhere in the train yards, find the lot, got some breakfast if we were not too late; go to the dressing room .and get ready to ride some kind of animal, or appear on a float or a cage. The parade may have been beautiful to look at, but as memory presents the scene in the dressing room as the performers made ready it is associated mostly with hurry and confusion, no time for breakfast, boiling-hot days, or freez- ing cold. If it rained, you just got wet; if the lot was far from tdwn, and if the parade was long, perhaps you missed your lunch as well as vour breakfast. I can truthfully say that the admiration of the crowds who witness the pa- rade has little or no effect on an empty stom- ach. When dinner time arrives at 4:30, there was no lack of appetite. . After the parade as an institution had gone, we found that it was sorely missed by a lot of people who did not have to ride in it. But we used to read about the strenuous protests of town councils and merchants’ associations against parading, and traffic conditions finally made an end of it. - A check-up at the end of the first season without parades showed a general increase in the morale, health and appearance of people and animals. Yet it used to be fun at the start of the season to watch the new members of the troupe trying to “catch up with the parade.” If one of them moaned the lack of time, there was a chorus of reminders that people who would troupe with a circus inust not expect their breakfast to be -served in bed, that they euzht to consider all the country they were seeing, that nothing was so healthy as an in- vigorating morning ride and that it was some- thing to wear a beautiful costume for the crowd to admire. Comforting, for a harried acrobat or horse- back rider, trying to wash tights, clean shoes, fix riggings, mend clothes, bathe or accomplish other odd tasks before the bugle blew to mount! PARADE had few compensations, but often it led to an unetxpected thrill. Once I was riding on a cage filled with bears, along with half a dozen other girls, and it upset on a piece of sandy road at the far corner of the show lot. It turned over slowly, and we all followed the turn of the cage and did not get thrown off, but the bears did not like us scrambling over the bars. They were not friendly at all, and we had to do some quick moving to keep from being clawed. It was a noisy tangle; the driver was swearing, the bears were howling, we were yell- ing and the elephants were coming right be- hind us; but nothing at all happened. And we did not go in the parade that day! 3 One thing people never fail to say about the circus is true. They say that the circus is one big family. I can think of nothing that will describe it any better than just that. An im- mense family, who eat and sleep and dress and live together season after season in the close confines of the tents and railroad cars. Hun- dreds of people from all parts of the world, all nationalities, all beliefs, bound by one com- mon bond—the show. From the advertising placed by the cars ahead to the tearing down of the tents when the performance is over, the show is the thing. The departments of advertising, commissary and admissions, the side show, the menagerie, the big top, the wardrobe and concessions, all exist only to promote the big show. Hostlers and grooms, property men, candy butchers, light and chandelier men, waiters and cooks for the cook house, truck drivers, wagon mak- ers, sailmakers for the canvas of the tents, black- smiths, water-wagon men, seat men and canvas men, exist for the same purpose. The center of activities is the back yard, the space surrounding the back door of the big top, where the show goes in and comes out. Nothing must be al- lowed to mar the show, nothing must inter- fere with it, nothing must stop it. It starts with its glittering tournament around the track in the big top. Tournament is as carefully drilled and presented as any act in the performance. Its members are acrobats, clowns and riders; its places are assigned at the start of the season and are maintained throughout, unless accidents prevent. - About a half-hour before the show is to start a bugle call is blown. Just before the performance begins, a second call is blown. The equestrian director blows the whistle that actually sends the show into the tent. When the show has been delayed in getting to town the three signals follow each other closely, and there is a mad scramble to get ready. One such day a surgeon, the guest of one of the staff, was going to watch the show from a seat placed beside the band leader. He strolled out of the back door to watch the gathering when the first bugle blew, and stood beside the leader, who told some of us after- ward about the conversation. The manager of the show came out of the back door with his watch in his hand, approached the leader, and said: “Do you think they are ready in the dressing room? It looks like rain, and we are late now in starting.” ° “Oh, I think so,” answered the leader; “they have had 15 minutes, and they all know we are late. Shall we have the second?” “Yes,-let's get it on its way.” HE bugle blew the call and followed it by two short quick notes, which mean, “Hurry up.” And this is what the surgeon later told the leader: “What you folks call the back yard was to my notion very small and crowded. When the bugle blew, into that space poured—yes, poured—from all the dressing-room tents and some of the wagons, men and women and an- imals, a wild hurrying mass, brilliantly clothed. Almost instantly the whistle blew, the band formed and entered the big tent, and after it came the rest of the procession. Men and women ran to their places under the very noses of camels and plunging horses and huge ele- phants, trumpeting their nervousness. An original beauty climbed into a palanquin swung between two jerking camels and called out; ‘Somebody hold these two ships of the desert so I can assume my languid air.’ “The king—I knew it was the king, because he carried his crown in his hand—dashed wildly out of the dressing room and mounted his prancing steed, adjusted his false mustache with one hand and his crown with the other, aided by two grooms. He caught up with his queen and entered the tent with a truly royal air, Men in armor ran with spears and shields, women dressed as butterflies and flowers piloted WASHINGTON, D. C.,. APRIL 20 v Down through the open space hurtles a flash of white and gold, while up above the bar swings crazily, huge costumes with enormous wings and petals —at risk of their necks, it seemed to me. “Floats detached themselves from the maze, their human burdens climbing on all over them; elephants knelt to allow their riders to get up to their backs. Expecting to see some of the men and women get trampled to death right before my eyes, I hurried into the tent to see what it looked like in there. Around the track the procession went slowly and unhurried, sparkling and glowing and in the most perfect order. I stared at it in amazement. At my hospital I thought I had a system, but here before me was a miracle.” People have sometimes asked me how it feels to fall from a great height. Such an experience is commonly supposed to be thrilling, It is when it is all over, and if the performer who falls is still able to feel a thrill. My past life never floated through my mind during the falls I have myself undergone, I was too much occupied with the immediate present. I know that all successful aerialists have a sort of sixth sense that makes it possible for them to keep a clear head and perfect presence of mind while performing high in the air. I know that I am not dizzy on my rigging, or at any height, and that I never was. An aerialist from long and arduous practice acquires a keen sense of balance—so very keen that any slackening of the rigging is felt at once. From the same practice comes the ability to decide instantly what is to be done in such a case, and also the instant response of a finely trained body. An aerialist with a head full of fear and a wavering judgment will not stay in the air very long. The perilous moment that demands quick thought usually finds the true performer with a mind in good working order. An emer- gency comes, a decision is made and acted upon. Sometimes when the accident is averted the audience sees what appears to be a fumbled trick, and again, when Lady Luck has a day off, it sees a fall. Occasionally the rigging breaks, and that will come under the heading “just too bad.” But the percentage of fatal and serious accidents in circus life is very small, and the number of lucky escapes is legion. For my own part I did my work because I likéd it. The thrill of a fall or two affected me little except to make me more careful. Once there was a story of a young woman who desired to commit suicide. She chose to jump off a 16-story building, and she was soon on her way to the sidewalk. The paper said that in some way while she was falling she learned how to fall, as the circus performer learns. An automobile was parked near the curbing and she went right through the top of it and escaped with a broken shoulder and a dislike for high dives, E circus people read the account, and after a careful check-up in the dressing room we could not find a performer who knew how to fall. We agreed that you just fall and that you usually land on what happens to be under you. Once I was gayly balanced on my trapesze when a steel ring at the top of the center pole broke with a loud snap. The break, occurring on one side, turned the rigging and threw me sideways and right toward the center pole. I did not think of anything at all—simply opened my arms imploringly and met the pole, and slid down its length to the ground, acquir- ing slivers and blue paint all the rugged way, and leaving little pieces of my skin and tights and the whole front of my white satin costume. Down on the ground, I gathered the remnants of my tights and costume around me, took one look at the tangled mass of my rigging on the ground, and crept out of the back door to the dressing room. Later, the band leader told me that the next time I put a long slide for life in my act I ought to let him know in advance and he would have the drummer co-operate with a stirring roll on his snare drum. - The doctor picked splinters out of me for an hour or so, and every once in a while during the rest of the season I would find one or iwo he had overlooked. I must have been too eager to get started on my slide, for I had a bump on my forehead, black and blue and very prominent. Many people believe that after a hard fall it is a dreadful struggle to climb back on the rigging. I know that where the fall has been due to a-trick that has miscarried the performer practices it as soon as he can, to find out how the mistake happened. And after a fall the “acrobat goes back to work as soon as he is able, because muscles soften quickly without regular practice. If the performer is fearful of the trick, then he works to regain confidence. 1 think that Hilary Long, the head balancer, gets about as many falls as any one in the business. He slides down a wire while balanced on his head. To carry his weight and give the needed resistance the wire is guyed down very tightly. He has to watch every part of his whole rigging constantly for overstrain. And he has to examine the slope of the ground, so as to determine how gravitation will act, and its texture to see whether it will hold the stakes. He is a calm little chap, hard to ruffle. He climbs his rope ladder up to his pedestal and looks down the slide wire while the announcer is telling the audience that he is about to slide down that slender wire balanced on his head. He takes his position on his head and away he goes. Part way down, perhaps, he loses his balance and cannot recover it. He catches the wire with his hands, turns over, slides to the ground hanging by his arms, goes patiently up the rope ladder again and gets ready to do it all over. Down again he comes after an assistant has adjusted some part of the ap- paratus. If he makes it this time he steps off on the ground beneath his wire, takes a bow and departs. He hears the applause, but his mind is busy with the reasons why he did not succeed the first time. He does not give a single sign’ that only the quickness of his eye, his hands, his body, has kept him from a broken neck. If you should ask him about it he would prob- ably tell you, as he told me, that, of course, he grabs the wire if he can—that nobody wants a broken neck. 'HE big show dressing room accommodates most of the performers, clowns and animal trainers. It is divided into two parts, for the men and the women, and in the center are ranged the wardrobe tables and trunks con- taining the tournament clothes. Outside in private tents and sometimes in the wagons are the dressing rooms of the stars and feature per-" formers. Inside the big dressing rcom the trunks are arranged in rows with an aisle be- tween. They are all numbered and are in the same place every day. Each member of the circus is allowed a small folding chair, and’ each has his own buckets for washing and bathing. Outside on the guy lines of ‘the tent clotheslines may be strung. Nearly all the larger towns have one-day service for laundry and cleaning, and that is arranged by the porters in the sleeping cars. > One day when the high perches were working the band suddenly went into the fast music of their finish. The number that followed was a riding number, and, of course, it was ready. I was in the next number to that one, and I hur- Continued on Twenty-second Page