tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89377816689887360972024-02-21T08:00:46.425-06:00Trunk StoriesJonathan Mitch Freddeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00391796062153387543noreply@blogger.comBlogger41125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937781668988736097.post-81213138804680544672011-02-20T08:07:00.002-06:002011-02-20T08:11:52.869-06:00The Power of the Circus<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGhb3qV6u2hp6bnm7slc90IR9BVS5qiMRB88_jnRlNtWRe8pisyLEF06fMzLp4QIsTho2apKFPImPlOvkJbgCfO75WpLGK0hfOCh5JJUuMbx5sWbac-pj1Ye5m73CWMgMbAzEDuTOaq9fy/s1600/sc00eb1d98.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 262px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGhb3qV6u2hp6bnm7slc90IR9BVS5qiMRB88_jnRlNtWRe8pisyLEF06fMzLp4QIsTho2apKFPImPlOvkJbgCfO75WpLGK0hfOCh5JJUuMbx5sWbac-pj1Ye5m73CWMgMbAzEDuTOaq9fy/s400/sc00eb1d98.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575773630171258642" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 16px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">With Presidents Day tommorow I just wanted to share a story. Working come in for Circus Sarasota yesterday Chuck and I noticed a man by himself with a veterans hat that said WWII and Vietnam. We both thanked him for his service. he got a tear in his eye and started to tell us about how much the Circus meant to him growing up as a child and all through his life. He was so happy that it was still alive in America and that Circus Sarasota was there for him to enjoy. He then reached in his pocket and pulled out $10.00 as if it was his last ten dollars. He said he didnt have much money but wanted to give it to the circus to make sure it keeps going in America. At intermission I went up to him and asked him if he was enjoying himself. he told me that he loved the special tribute to the veterans Chuck made during the picture frame number. He asked me if it was done just for him! Some times we dont realize the power of the Circus.</span></span></span>Jonathan Mitch Freddeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00391796062153387543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937781668988736097.post-33423711780901101202010-07-04T09:22:00.004-05:002010-07-04T12:08:26.575-05:00Frankie Saluto<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9xHZKKsrAb4ps8L_fBBk6hG9jQj8GEPP0FXtcnt-RTYef0KM2EaoDM37agrjRzT28ZfhvWb6izntI5HJFAwY4SMqQKE6uFCd31867_thm3FszZ8Yz5zixv_9aHzZq5CO8Nd8xuLMXXhA0/s1600/Frankie+saluto.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 317px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9xHZKKsrAb4ps8L_fBBk6hG9jQj8GEPP0FXtcnt-RTYef0KM2EaoDM37agrjRzT28ZfhvWb6izntI5HJFAwY4SMqQKE6uFCd31867_thm3FszZ8Yz5zixv_9aHzZq5CO8Nd8xuLMXXhA0/s400/Frankie+saluto.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490093866275188354" /></a><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">This photo is courtesy of Jim Howle</span></span></div><div> </div>Frankie was a clown from the early days on Ringling. Supposedly he was discovered by John Ringling North.<div> </div><div> Mr. Ringling would buy a newspaper every morning outside Boston Garden from Frankie who was living in a cardboard box. </div><div>Mr. Ringling took a liking to him and offered him a job. </div><div> </div><div> From the stories I've heard one thing he always did was go around and fire people with pink slips whenever you upset him. Unfortunatley he had left the show the year before I came. </div><div> </div><div>But I was lucky enough to have met him in Venice. He was staying at the Bonita motel under the care of Fred and Laura Landrum who were the proprieters and always welcomed the circus people in town whenever they were there. I was also the recipient one of his famous pink slips which I still have. I take it out once in awhile and think about how it must have been to work with him.</div><div> </div><div> Below are some comments and memories from people who have written and commented because the picture had stirred some kind of memory from their past. <br /></div><div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"Mitch... were you in Macon, GA when it snowed and we kept finding little foot prints and a hole in the snow all the way back from the bar to the train? We finally found Frankie sleeping on a hot rail next to the train. " Ron Jarvis</span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"> </p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"> </p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> "Down time...you took it where you could get it. A hot rail in Macon, Georgia or on a rotting hammock in a quonset hut outside of the Chicago International Ampitheater. Sleep was sleep...but rest was rare and heavenly! Eugene Pigeon</span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"> </p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"> </p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"> </p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> "I hear you Eugene... but I am sure glad we found Frankie before the next train did." Ron Jarvis</span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"> </p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"> </p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> "I am glad you found him too. It is where Jonathan found Georgie Rollins also...shivering on the tracks. Jesus, life could be so thin on the road. It is a wonder it didn't take more of us. We found a guy in the snow by the train in Greensboro in 1979. Just a townie...looking for food and a place to hide. Eugene Pigeon</span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"> </p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"> </p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> "Sounds like a song lyric from Woody Guthrie..."We found Frankie on the rail asleep, it was cold as hell...he had been kicked out of Macon, Georgia in the snow...and with a pink slip from the Bonita Motel!" Everyday was a song lyric on the Ringling Show!" "Like I wrote this one for a showgirl in Chicago on moveout night. "She strutted past the Pie-Car...looking thinner than the soup du jour, there was more fat on the chicken legs than on her legs for sure. I asked if she would sit with me...and maybe have a bite...she said, Pidgeon, I know what you are hungry for...but this cafe is closed tonight!"" Eugene Pigeon</span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"> </p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:verdana;font-size:23px;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> We just figured Frankie got up to the rail and couldnt get over it so decided to just fall asleep. Jim Howle</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></p> <p></p><p></p><p></p> <p></p><p></p> <div> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></div></div>Jonathan Mitch Freddeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00391796062153387543noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937781668988736097.post-78590635221920215862010-05-20T21:53:00.009-05:002010-05-20T22:40:32.418-05:00THESE ARE STILTS!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdRCUXCPCXlp5eJQ_6wy2GUS8URxsBhkuQvQs3PklGX555sAhj6YcWC04Fad_bDDgel4mX42Z7nerjBtxIPTcupx5-CuE2DP9ngOXIgwV3adBSE4DDwPgtEWvKyNMllmAfl2NUgv-cUlD5/s1600/sc067acc1c.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 306px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdRCUXCPCXlp5eJQ_6wy2GUS8URxsBhkuQvQs3PklGX555sAhj6YcWC04Fad_bDDgel4mX42Z7nerjBtxIPTcupx5-CuE2DP9ngOXIgwV3adBSE4DDwPgtEWvKyNMllmAfl2NUgv-cUlD5/s400/sc067acc1c.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473562972656653906" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:12px;"><table width="100%"><tbody><tr><td width="100%" valign="top" align="left" style=" ;font-size:12px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 15px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">When we were on the Ringling Show in the 70's there were many colorful characters on the show from the tent days. One of these was our electrician named Congo. I did some research to find out his real name but it seems no one knew him by any other name. This story of Congo comes from my good friend Chuck Sidlow who was Boss clown at the time.......</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> </span><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="width: 90%; font-size:12px;"><tbody><tr><td valign="top" align="left" style="padding-top: 7px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 7px; padding-left: 0px; "><div style="padding-bottom: 7px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">IT WAS ANOTHER DAY IN CLOWN COLLEGE AND THE CLASSES HAVE STARTED ALREADY.I WAS WALKING THRU FROM THE PROP SHOP OUT INTO THE ARENA.THE AREA BETWEEN THE WARDROBE AND THE BACK DOOR WAS WHERE THE STILT-WALKERS PRACTICED. THERE WAS A CABLE WITH ROPES TO HOLD AND A PATH ACROSS TO WALK ABOUT 20 STEPS. INTERESTED STUDENTS WOULD WAIT AND TAKE THERE TURN. </span></span></div><div style="padding-bottom: 7px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"> CONGO WAS THE ELECTRICIAN ON THE RED SHOW FOR ABOUT 40 OR 50 YEARS. HE HAD DIABETES AND ENDED UP WITH HIS LEGS HAVING TO BE AMPUTATED. BECAUSE OF THIS HE WAS RETIRED TO WINTER QUARTERS TO WORK IN THE WAREHOUSE. </span></span></div><div style="padding-bottom: 7px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"> THERE WAS ONE OF THE STUDENTS WHO HAD JUST TAKEN ABOUT TEN STEPS ON HIS STILTS WHEN CONGO CAME WALKING IN WITH A BIG PIPE ON HIS SHOULDERS. CONGO LOOKED UP AND DROPPED HIS HEAVY PIPE ON THE GROUND, THE LOUD ECHO FILLED THE ARENA AND EVERYONE INCLUDING THE STILT STUDENT STOPPED IN THERE TRACKS. HE LOOKED AT THE YOUNG BOY AND PULLED UP HIS PANT-LEGS TO EXPOSE TWO CORK STUMPS DUCK-TAPED TO HIS SHOES ON ONE END AND ABOVE HIS KNEECAPS ON THE OTHER.HE YELLED TO THE BOY,"THESE ARE REAL STILTS,LOOK HERE, THIS HIS HOW TO WALK ON STILTS!!!!" </span></span></div><div style="padding-bottom: 7px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"> NEEDLESS TO SAY,THE KID TURNED WHITE AND CAME DOWN QUICKLY, I DONT THINK THE STUDENT EVER WALKED STILTS AGAIN. AND THEN CONGO PICKED UP THE PIPE ,LAUGHED AND WALKED AWAY.<br /></span></span></div><div style="padding-bottom: 7px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"> THE NEXT CHRISTMAS,WE WERE HAVING A PARTY IN THE CLOWN ALLEY.WE DECIDED TO INVITE CONGO IN AND GIVE HIM A FEW PRIZES. HE AND I HAD A LOVE HATE RELATIONSHIP,AS I LOVED TO MAKE FUN OF HIM AND HE HATED ME FOR IT. </span></span></div><div style="padding-bottom: 7px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"> I ASKED HIM TO COME TO THE PARTY,BUT HE REFUSED,SO WE SENT A FIRST OF MAY TO INVITE HIM.AFTER COAXING HIM HE FINALLY SHOWED UP. I PRESENTED HIM WITH TWO BOXES. HE RELUCTANTLY OPENED THE FIRST BOX AND PULLED OUT A PAIR OF SOCKS, HE LOOKED AT ME WITH A PUZZLED FACE BUT, NONE THE LESS HE THANKED ME.</span></span></div><div style="padding-bottom: 7px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"> THATS WHEN I TOLD HIM TO "OPEN THE NEXT ONE" AS ALL OF THE CLOWNS WERE AROUND WATCHING HE OPENED IT AND INSIDE WAS A PACKAGE OF THUMBTACKS. HE SAID "WHAT ARE THESE FOR?"<br /></span></span></div><div style="padding-bottom: 7px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"> I SAID...."THOSE THUMBTACKS ARE TO HOLD YOUR SOCKS UP THE NEXT TIME YOU TRY TO TEACH STILTS WITH YOUR CORK STUMP LEGS!!" CONGO CHASED ME AROUND THE WHOLE ARENA AS THE CLOWNS LAUGHED AND CHEERED! </span></span></div><div style="padding-bottom: 7px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"> BELIEVE IT OR NOT THAT LITTLE INCIDENT BROUGHT CONGO AND I CLOSER TOGETHER AND WE BECAME GOOD FRIENDS FROM THAT DAY FORWARD.HE TAUGHT ME ALOT ABOUT ELECTRICITY, WIRING, AND LOADING WAGONS.HE ALSO HELPED ME TO DESIGN A WORKING TOOL BOX THAT WE TOOK ON THE ROAD FOR THE CLOWN ALLEY .</span></span></div></td></tr></tbody></table></div></td></tr></tbody></table></span>Jonathan Mitch Freddeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00391796062153387543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937781668988736097.post-88490915352825566832010-04-29T08:33:00.006-05:002010-04-29T09:42:07.931-05:00Bread for the masses<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMRy7LlwSPpAPq7486J4sbJjMjMnfYL-zNypY0XAySU2E9JNYAAtyFl5PIDPFeKV7IVZBBVcGHvStm-Go9nreYDp4nvAYmPI2FjMiI9xb_QH5Fwfo15oQt5IcTWqjL9U93gST7bo65ui6h/s1600/frosty.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 295px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMRy7LlwSPpAPq7486J4sbJjMjMnfYL-zNypY0XAySU2E9JNYAAtyFl5PIDPFeKV7IVZBBVcGHvStm-Go9nreYDp4nvAYmPI2FjMiI9xb_QH5Fwfo15oQt5IcTWqjL9U93gST7bo65ui6h/s400/frosty.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465569539973619282" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMj40NL60fWxw-ZT4nJTbQRioubfOskBQiBjUK5Ur16B9gDcK2l4bsSkb95ZhDZKQcY3FEnO1-5mwTJa9Sh9gpYXYsO2IAz3Uj0Os8WXRu7QYLw5j-DOiiFZsQ8iGHM4wZv4giZpHa_LCW/s1600/2622French_bread.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMj40NL60fWxw-ZT4nJTbQRioubfOskBQiBjUK5Ur16B9gDcK2l4bsSkb95ZhDZKQcY3FEnO1-5mwTJa9Sh9gpYXYsO2IAz3Uj0Os8WXRu7QYLw5j-DOiiFZsQ8iGHM4wZv4giZpHa_LCW/s400/2622French_bread.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465555943907060962" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">This story about Frosty Little comes From Angel Ocasio CC '84</span>.............<div> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Here is my Frosty story from Clown College.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">When I went to clown college, there was the weekly french bread pickup at Albertson's, for .50 a loaf. One day he asked me to go with him. I remember entering the store and grabbing a shopping cart, maybe two, and filled it to capacity with hot french bread (you had to get there around 4:00 to get them out of the oven). When we got back to the Vela, all who ordered gathered at the trunk of his car and handed out loaves of bread. Man, the french bread tasted sooooooo good.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">26 years later, whenever I walk into my local Albertson's and pass by the bakery, whether I pick up a loaf of french bread or not, I think of my day with Frosty.</span></div><div> </div></span></div>Jonathan Mitch Freddeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00391796062153387543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937781668988736097.post-67951019113403758182010-04-21T06:11:00.008-05:002010-04-21T08:14:04.227-05:00Frosty Little<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIoYcQmTVYdFxHfzKOXNWQhhxNMaVg9LZQAQCYGWWhbuyTfqiHBjCICA_js3QY5MeYpiM_glg7Oe8_T56pnrz4R5kI4RLRc3E3tktnVPFJ6auw88i2eqabZaLh2LDPkw2bx8ildOOzR2nL/s1600/Frosty+fh"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 294px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIoYcQmTVYdFxHfzKOXNWQhhxNMaVg9LZQAQCYGWWhbuyTfqiHBjCICA_js3QY5MeYpiM_glg7Oe8_T56pnrz4R5kI4RLRc3E3tktnVPFJ6auw88i2eqabZaLh2LDPkw2bx8ildOOzR2nL/s400/Frosty+fh" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462575871692961618" /></a><br /> Frosty Little was my Boss for six years. When I think of Frosty I think of a man who kept things running smoothly in the alley. <div> </div><div>Think about the job he had! Not only as a boss for 30 clowns but as a politician with Mr. Feld. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> He was a perfect bridge between the generations of clowns. Remember we had clowns ranging from 17 to 80 years old. Not only did he keep order, he let us have just enough fun without letting it get out of hand.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> He was always thinking of the clowns. Many of the gags he created were specifically designed to utilize everyone in some way or another. Even if you didn't know what you were doing. If it wasn't for him and these gags many of us would not have had the opportunity to work in the show our first year. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> When it came to Mr. Feld he was a great negotiator. He would always try for the most spots in the show for the clowns. We would show about 50 gags every year and he would be able to get at least 30 of those in the show. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> The alley was like our own little community. What went on and how we did things were under the complete trust in Frosty from Mr. Feld.</div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div> And lets not forget Pat his wife, who was always there with her camera taking photos. If it wasnt for her many of us would not have some of the photos that keep these special days in our memories. She was always beside him for support. They have a special bond that cant be separated.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> He was not just a boss but has remained a real friend. 84 now he's recently come under the weather and his memory is slipping a little, but I assure you he will always remember those days and the many clowns who came through those doors.... </div><div> </div><div>Hotarini!!</div>Jonathan Mitch Freddeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00391796062153387543noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937781668988736097.post-39898896457827021702010-04-19T22:32:00.007-05:002010-04-19T22:53:58.760-05:00Well in that case!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Xhd0WZ1WFjirpXSLNsZVBviUvvFBV0ghUoVuRfaSroJw0yEN_jeh_gvKv9JuK21diI1aqXBXxEXFEA3CjU-ij6ruthCk5VFrW4SikiK-k9Yu_4Er2jtlHuRIVNRV8uC0f2WmYzc2N2xj/s1600/Chuck+at+trunk.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Xhd0WZ1WFjirpXSLNsZVBviUvvFBV0ghUoVuRfaSroJw0yEN_jeh_gvKv9JuK21diI1aqXBXxEXFEA3CjU-ij6ruthCk5VFrW4SikiK-k9Yu_4Er2jtlHuRIVNRV8uC0f2WmYzc2N2xj/s400/Chuck+at+trunk.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462062892606966770" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9ItOM8SXc70okIX_v2aTcDZNCN3ODr42DtI0DarkJRvckiDIrxrYdBbf_ayoRzT0CtasNQ9IUyvRw8RON11sfkD8yzaylQhvVyvqCSPzyCOd2iHZN1HD2Ug5rgp0c0ar6AIytPr2oW6Hb/s1600/9721_155732254263_545124263_2451699_4438001_s.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 130px; height: 97px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9ItOM8SXc70okIX_v2aTcDZNCN3ODr42DtI0DarkJRvckiDIrxrYdBbf_ayoRzT0CtasNQ9IUyvRw8RON11sfkD8yzaylQhvVyvqCSPzyCOd2iHZN1HD2Ug5rgp0c0ar6AIytPr2oW6Hb/s400/9721_155732254263_545124263_2451699_4438001_s.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462062104095250418" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK2mbZyRd1tDM4DnOMO9-Jz1xo5AGusZdK9rrDVQP-CIZEYemflxQNYYn4WNmQUdu0hpILB1w4se0-7qY9TmM-lYtfNt-X8fLFz6ilYK9__5NoPo2sa9nnoLotfYpSK1e_B7A7JzkN7v1U/s1600/7316_147124403089_616738089_2587622_3664366_s.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 130px; height: 97px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK2mbZyRd1tDM4DnOMO9-Jz1xo5AGusZdK9rrDVQP-CIZEYemflxQNYYn4WNmQUdu0hpILB1w4se0-7qY9TmM-lYtfNt-X8fLFz6ilYK9__5NoPo2sa9nnoLotfYpSK1e_B7A7JzkN7v1U/s400/7316_147124403089_616738089_2587622_3664366_s.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462058723931934114" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Helvetica;font-size:12px;"><div><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> It was my third year with the show, when a rookie clown named Chuck Sidlow came on the show. He was a young kid of 17 and pretty crazy! I don't know how... and I don't know why... but before I knew it, I'd taken this kid under my wing.</span></span></span></div><span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><br />Later that year when we were in Indianapolis, I'd received a note that two girls wanted to meet me. I told Chuck I was going to show him how to handle girls and told him to go with me at intermission to meet them. We went out to see them...<br /><br /><br />The girls asked if we could go outside for a few minutes, which we did. We went to the top of the ramp and started talking with them...</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">In those days we always opened the second half of the show with some two minute track gags, while the audience came back to their seats. As we were there talking to these girls, time slipped us by, and all of a sudden we heard the music start! We told the girls we had to go and in a panic we ran down the ramp....</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">We arrived just in time for the music to end.<br /><br />There at the bottom of the ramp, stood Frosty our boss- his arms folded and a scowl on his face. He said to us</span></span><em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">,"You missed the track gags. Where were you guys?"</span></span></em></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></div></span><div><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I looked at Chuck and told him in these situations it was best to tell the truth. So I told Frosty we met some girls and went outside with them. Fearing the worst Frosty looked at the two of us he threw his arms up and just said, </span></span><em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">"Well in that case!....."</span></span></em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> and walked away.</span></span></span></div></span>Jonathan Mitch Freddeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00391796062153387543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937781668988736097.post-69170642906557289372010-04-17T16:52:00.006-05:002010-04-18T07:39:19.295-05:00Coming Home<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Gf9uUWboBeIrSNXqcPfDIuBzSL-a3IErgqkC9rdZhIeuOFU070hqOlBcwkP05eQoUtXKDuX-7t9YGFvHJospem99bOPSqOsa8OU4ZZyUt_vHptUC3fqtQ-9qvdstWWxLGuIt_NhpS-mO/s1600/Photo14372.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Gf9uUWboBeIrSNXqcPfDIuBzSL-a3IErgqkC9rdZhIeuOFU070hqOlBcwkP05eQoUtXKDuX-7t9YGFvHJospem99bOPSqOsa8OU4ZZyUt_vHptUC3fqtQ-9qvdstWWxLGuIt_NhpS-mO/s400/Photo14372.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461258142445786514" /></a><br />Coming home to Venice was something special for us. We would save our money all year long so we could stay at one of the motels just to get off the train. There was the Candelite , The Kent, the Gondolier and the one of choice The Bonita. <div> </div><div> The Myaka bar down the street. A circus bar that was full of old photos from the early days of the circus. And lets not forget Big Daddys a disco on Tamiami trail and ABC liquor with the revolving bar. </div><div> </div><div> There were the local girls who we met year after year who would come and take us to laundry or shopping. Two in particular were Gigi and Jeri who were always there every year, waiting for us when the train pulled in. No matter what time of day it arrived. They became family who we would share stories with from our past season. It was if we grew up with them year after year. They would get joy out of just being able to say they knew us. Grants City with the all you can eat buffet. Publix and of course Winn-Dixie. </div><div> </div><div> Venice didnt even have a movie theatre then. Every week I would hitch hike up to Red Lobster in Sarasota, treat myself to dinner and go see a movie at the theatre next door. This was the theatre that later became famous for the Pee Wee Herman scandal. It was a legitimate theatre then. </div><div> </div><div> There was the pay phone at the end of the train. I would go to the bank and get a roll of quarters just to call home. There was always a line of people waiting to use it. Some times you might wait for hours. Stottelmier and Shoemaker hardware store was also at the end of the train. It was where we would all invade every year to get things to fix up our rooms on the train for the following year. Because once we left Venice our schedule was so busy you could never do it on the road.</div><div> </div><div> There was Smokey the train guy who was covered in black grease all year long . All you could ever see were his eyes. That first day in Winter Quarters he would grab his things and go to the building and take a shower. He would get cleaned up, put on a suit and take himself out to dinner at Smittys Steak house. That was the only time you would see him clean. And then it was back to work for another year. </div><div> </div><div> And Larry Robey who was the person who took care of the band. He had a loft room downtown run by two older women. They would save it for him all year long. When we came in town he would dissapear from the train. You would occasionaly see him around town getting groceries or running errands for the two ladies. He really took care of them. </div><div> </div><div> One year Serf Rocha and I were the only two clowns to ride the train to Venice. It was the six week break so most people went home out of Cleveland. We didnt have much money so we thought we would take what money we had and buy some fishing gear. We figured if nothing else when we ran out of money we could catch some fish out of the canal behind the train and survive. We bought some bait and realized neither of us were any good at fishing. Our money ran out in about a week and no fish. We started to go through all of the abandoned rooms of people who had left the show. We found enough change to get some hot dogs and bread. We survived on these for two more days.</div><div> </div><div> My parents showed up shortly after that took care of us and everything was fine. Those are some of my memories of a time and place I will cherish forever. It truly was our home........ </div>Jonathan Mitch Freddeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00391796062153387543noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937781668988736097.post-25554036986574065622010-04-16T15:46:00.005-05:002010-04-16T21:13:49.167-05:00Mr. Tim<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh6Fubc_tKK_qvSXoLxT5-xNztR6y8SyMXPgUsBhH7wU6V12aE3-rzmfaKIOiFk2o-nA9T3J0ycv0m_FqQRiBphDkpcUiZrE_tEnsUtvUJk_9JnOPyxFERNDYjKvP2ml_Bz9qj42Uqu_yU/s1600/27047_10150158275285052_340312940051_12074970_3889230_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 262px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh6Fubc_tKK_qvSXoLxT5-xNztR6y8SyMXPgUsBhH7wU6V12aE3-rzmfaKIOiFk2o-nA9T3J0ycv0m_FqQRiBphDkpcUiZrE_tEnsUtvUJk_9JnOPyxFERNDYjKvP2ml_Bz9qj42Uqu_yU/s400/27047_10150158275285052_340312940051_12074970_3889230_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460923853584678034" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Helvetica;font-size:12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:23px;">One year ago a legend in our business went on to the great circus in the sky. For many of us on Ringling Tim Holst was always there. From the day he went to clown college in 1971 until 2009 he was an integral part of "The Greatest Show On Earth" From clown to ringmaster on to performance director, and finally Vice President of Talent. What a career! No matter how busy he would be he seemed to always make time for you, even if it was just for a moment. He loved to come to clown alley on the gold show and just talk about clowning. Tom Dougherty,myself and Tim would share stories and memories from the 70s and talk for what seemed like hours. He truly loved the circus, especially clowns. One day he left his briefcase in our dressing room. Being one to not pass up a golden opportunity like that I took some glitter which I used in opening of the show and proceeded to put some in his briefcase. hoping he wouldn't open it until he was gone. Sure enough he got called away and had to leave immediately. While he was on the plane he opened his briefcase and glitter went every where! I saw him a few towns later and he told me what happened. Thinking I was in trouble he just laughed and told me everyone on the plane had a good laugh. Tim was always up for a good practicle joke. I'm so glad he was part of my life. </span><br /><br /></span>Jonathan Mitch Freddeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00391796062153387543noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937781668988736097.post-83399430602765278672010-03-06T07:01:00.007-06:002010-03-06T07:13:56.650-06:00The Day Mike Left Town<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZVsmx2H0nwTBtw2kNTpIJpJDcLvI3x7rQcQjSysBuk__A-nBkCDpzV2cl_T9928iE6qrGww96GHsUb-CtGLm_U23KdBh0m3P81qZ0MNbaHxYDn5aZLyi-t0MQrVtUiZsQpLEjK7fjOa77/s1600-h/mikep01.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 287px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZVsmx2H0nwTBtw2kNTpIJpJDcLvI3x7rQcQjSysBuk__A-nBkCDpzV2cl_T9928iE6qrGww96GHsUb-CtGLm_U23KdBh0m3P81qZ0MNbaHxYDn5aZLyi-t0MQrVtUiZsQpLEjK7fjOa77/s400/mikep01.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445506134629605394" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"><div align="justify"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Mike Padilla was one of the six little people we had on the show one year. He had been a clown for 30+ years and worked with Lou as the cigar smoking baby in the Baby Carriage gag. There was also a time that he worked in the Car Gag with Lou. </span></span></div><div align="justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span></span> </span></div><div align="justify"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Mike was from South America and spoke very little English. He always took the first bus home and when everyone else got home Mike would already be in the kitchen. He would be on a stool at the stove frying a huge T-bone steak. If asked why he ate such huge steaks, he'd reply in his heavy accent, </span><em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"It keeps me young and virile!"</span></em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> When he finished cooking he would put it on a plate and head straight for his room. He'd shut his door tight and while no one saw him for the rest of the night, you'd always hear his TV, and hear Mike laughing hysterically from inside his room. This ritual occurred nearly every every night. One night Mike forgot to close his door, as I walked by I peeked in to see what was so funny. I looked at his TV and wouldn't you know, there was </span><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">no</span></u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> picture and only sound. Instead of a picture he had taken a Sharpie pen and drawn stick figures on the screen. Mike was simply listening to his TV, and laughing hysterically at it!<br /><br />On one Miami stop, some of us walked into the Alley and Mike was there, quite upset. He was ranting and raving in Spanish and none of us could make any sense of it. It sure seemed serious, so we asked Serf (who spoke fluent Spanish) if he could tell what Mike was saying. All he could tell us was that Mike was mad and that even he couldn't make sense of it. </span></span></div><div align="justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span></span> </span></div><div align="justify"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">While Mike was carrying on, we noticed two working men come in with a dolly. The men put Mike's trunk on the dolly and wheeled it out the back door with Mike following still carrying on.. and on... The men set the trunk on the sidewalk, and Mike sat on his trunk with a scowl on his face and his arms folded tight, still carrying on. After a little while, he just stopped talking and just sat silent. He sat silent for quite a while. Then a taxi cab pulled up, and we watched as the driver and Mike loaded the trunk into the cab. Mike got in himself, and the cab drove off.</span></span></div><div align="justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span></span> </span></div><div align="justify"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Later on we found out why Mike was so upset. That year, all of the veteran clowns, Lou, Uncle Soapy, and Bobby Kaye had Spec costumes that were made to match their normal, personal ones. </span></span></div><div align="justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span></span> </span></div><div align="justify"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Mike had felt he deserved the same treatment because of his seniority. </span></span></div><div align="justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span></span> </span></div><div align="justify"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Instead he was cast as Little Bo Peep, and Mike had enough.</span></span></div></span>Jonathan Mitch Freddeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00391796062153387543noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937781668988736097.post-79117321929583524362010-03-05T07:15:00.005-06:002010-03-06T07:09:54.501-06:00Dougie Ashton<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjntM8Z_VU87nhRkC6owQfQw6PWq9PirNNtnzuVT8aM68KFlXyAEbsODsCcznGUyMVHZP_OeF_SCQmofUv1GrGvX22Mvwm7ba9EQO0xFMqmjv1s38H9V4vpN34N4Nms47Pk1SRHN5upPnTv/s1600-h/dougie.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 197px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjntM8Z_VU87nhRkC6owQfQw6PWq9PirNNtnzuVT8aM68KFlXyAEbsODsCcznGUyMVHZP_OeF_SCQmofUv1GrGvX22Mvwm7ba9EQO0xFMqmjv1s38H9V4vpN34N4Nms47Pk1SRHN5upPnTv/s400/dougie.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445138501142974658" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Helvetica;font-size:12px;"><div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Dougie Ashton was a true to life clown. He was "on" all the time. He would come in on Saturday mornings and go up and down the dressing rooms blasting his trumpet and yelling,</span><em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"GOOD MORNING YOU LUCKY PEOPLE!!"</span></em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> Of course this would drive everyone mad, but inside, they knew it was just Dougie. What you see is what you get!</span></span></div><div align="justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span> </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">One evening we had off from show, a bunch of us decided to hit a bar and have a few. We were barely in the door and Dougie started being Dougie. He accidently (was it?) bumped some guy next to him sitting at the bar. So the guy turned to Dougie asked him if he had a problem. Of course the answer was no. With Dougie, it was always no, Dougie never had a 'problem". A few minutes later, Dougie bumped the guy again. Once again the guy asked if there was a problem . Again, Dougie's answer was no. This continued off and on for the next half hour or so...</span></span></div><div align="justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span> </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The guy sitting at the bar was getting more and more irritated and confrontational, and it finally reached the point where Dougie asked the guy if he wanted to take it outside. The guy was more than ready and said "YES!" so the guy got up and started towards the door. When Dougie got up he started for the door all knock-kneed and what looked like a huge limp, basically looking as if both of legs were broken. We all busted out laughing, and I'll be darned if the guy started laughing along with us! </span></span><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Dougie bought the man a drink and we all spent the rest of the night having a great time.</span></span></div><div align="justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span> </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Another Story: One Saturday morning we didn't hear the normal trumpet blast. so we knew Dougie was running late. Great time for an alternate plan!! I decided to get a plain donut from the pie car and a cup coffee and have it waiting for Dougie. Only this would not be your ordinary donut. I took some baby powder and covered it so it looked like powder sugar and set it on his trunk along with the coffee. Doubie finally showed up, came in saw the donut and coffee on his trunk. He looked up smiled, and thanked everyone for being so thoughtful. We all watched in silence as he drank the coffee and ate the donut one bite at a time.</span></span></div><div align="justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span> </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">One by one of us, gave into laughter and soon the whole alley was in stitches. Dougie looked around totally clueless, and wondering why everyone was laughing asked simply,</span><em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"What's so funny?"</span></em></span></div><div align="justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span> </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"That's baby powder on that donut..."</span></span></div><div align="justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span> </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Dougie said nothing more than, </span><em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"I thought it was awful dry!"</span></em></span></div><div align="justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span> </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He then finished getting ready and went to work, never missing a beat.</span></span></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span> </span></div></span>Jonathan Mitch Freddeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00391796062153387543noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937781668988736097.post-61302145964428278012010-03-03T22:57:00.001-06:002010-03-03T22:58:43.526-06:00Tito Montoya<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtC92lRF5SiARO0zB0lzQhYQ6MZCK38T27UCvjyQXkXQyIUTsu7mplaq719iMZ7z5A2b_e0jZCgLO9bEDUDIs2skDKvqPn2ZMVRpM67OziqJn3zEG2D9XK6pTIW3bV51dsVY9Tzh12_zW5/s1600-h/tito2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 387px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtC92lRF5SiARO0zB0lzQhYQ6MZCK38T27UCvjyQXkXQyIUTsu7mplaq719iMZ7z5A2b_e0jZCgLO9bEDUDIs2skDKvqPn2ZMVRpM67OziqJn3zEG2D9XK6pTIW3bV51dsVY9Tzh12_zW5/s400/tito2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444638564097431506" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Tito Montoya is the nephew of Jesus Segrera, catcher for the Flying Segreras. The first time he flew he was quite shy, but soon he got over the shyness and was flying like a real pro. I believe at the time he started, he was six years old, and the youngest flyer in the world. I never knew him as Tito Montoya , only as Tito Segrera. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In the show, the Segreras flew on the one end, and the Farfans flew on the other end with young Tato (Armando Jr.) who was about the same age as Tito. These two loved the clowns and would spend hours in clown alley listening to stories and playing with all of the props. Although they competed as children they remained good friends over the years. My thoughts and prayers go out to the Montoya and Segrera family.</span></span></div></span>Jonathan Mitch Freddeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00391796062153387543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937781668988736097.post-46516964373065125002010-03-01T22:46:00.010-06:002010-03-02T08:02:39.507-06:00The "Bug Man"<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjZprpuQ05NKKvDhN4zMeVMEfFAk3WvuAc7LA4cwka7UV5jHsNkTkaOzGb_pPe0cvApdWWvdaxG-ve0zCvrMbt1HOb4CjV-SFJBs7Al88OPWqndFZMGl4hBG7TnNA62kwqsFG3hMFFAHHl/s1600-h/j+mchugh.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 137px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjZprpuQ05NKKvDhN4zMeVMEfFAk3WvuAc7LA4cwka7UV5jHsNkTkaOzGb_pPe0cvApdWWvdaxG-ve0zCvrMbt1HOb4CjV-SFJBs7Al88OPWqndFZMGl4hBG7TnNA62kwqsFG3hMFFAHHl/s400/j+mchugh.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443893977030050082" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfk2MUNHMtmEdiyKUQE4wxbw6k6vlhdb2cXqiZ9f9DBM7L4hAY2BVAECBHfuevR9szcoVZ5ZH8eTCyA_Mo8URS7_9ANNMq28xRXsZ5GSSH1SpvskNfueu4vGrZMqsMw1frDtlww-zfp-EN/s1600-h/bb.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 360px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfk2MUNHMtmEdiyKUQE4wxbw6k6vlhdb2cXqiZ9f9DBM7L4hAY2BVAECBHfuevR9szcoVZ5ZH8eTCyA_Mo8URS7_9ANNMq28xRXsZ5GSSH1SpvskNfueu4vGrZMqsMw1frDtlww-zfp-EN/s400/bb.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443893973519137586" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Helvetica;font-size:12px;"><div style="padding-left: 10px; padding-right: 10px; word-wrap: break-word; padding-top: 15px; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; -webkit-line-break: after-white-space; "><div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">John McHugh was a clown way ahead of his time. He had scientific approach to his clowning and used modern technology as much as possible.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Even his costumes were advanced!</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">They were made of a very high tech vinyl material he could only get in New York, so every two years when the show was in NYC, he would get enough material to make his costumes for the next two years. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">That’s a lot of planning!</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">One of the them that stands out in my mind is one he made where he sewed flashing lights (similar to Christmas lights) into the front of his costume!</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">When he was in Clown College, he adapted a character similar to Sherlock Holmes. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He would wear a cape and carry around a huge magnifying glass. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He even had a pipe! </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">As with many clowns, he evolved over the years, and that character slipped away completely. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He quit wearing the cape, ditched the lights and the pipe… He added big ears and changed his wig… The birth of a new character!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">One year we came to winter quarters and John had a bunch of battery operated cars.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Of course, we all wondered what he was going to do with them. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">They were the type that when they run into something, or off the edge of something, they would turn. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Maybe some of you old timers remember these? </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Way before remote control…</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">John was always very secretive about what he was building. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">During the day you’d see him working on something but never knew what it was, then at night he would assemble all of the pieces.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">You’d walk in the next day and lo and behold, he had a prop!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">So we would watch him with this pile of fake fur and foam rubber; he’d be cutting away at the fur, and carving the foam… he’d be gluing the pieces of fur to the foam and we just couldn’t figure out what it was! </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">John would never tell you what he was building.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">You could ask a hundred times, and he would just say, “Oh, it’s a prop...”</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">So we kept watching.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">When all was finished, this talented man had made some giant BUGS that fit over the cars!</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He took two pieces of plywood and cut out some discs about three feet in diameter. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">When the bugs were placed on the wood they would turn, move all around and bump into each other. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">If they got to the edge of the plywood, they would also turn, never leaving the plywood.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He would get out his huge magnifying glass from his “Sherlock Holmes” days, and go searching for them.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He’d then shoot at them with a pop gun that shot ping pong balls. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I believe he also had one of those sprayers that he would spray at them as if he were an exterminator.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">This was his Track Gag, and it was brilliant!</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">From then on, we called John the "Bug Man." </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Another year John showed up with a big piece of graph paper and a bunch of electrical conduit. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">On the paper was drawn a bunch curved lines. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We’d watch him take the conduit and hold it to the paper, and bend it just so.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He would never have the whole drawing with him, so we could never figure out what he was making.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Of course asking him never did any good, so we just had to watch, and guess.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">After a week or so of bending the conduit this way and that, it was driving us nuts!</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Then he would stay late after everyone left, and begin his assembly… Finally the day arrived when we walked in, and there was John, with a set of wings that fit on his shoulders. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">They could even flap! It also had a tail like an airplane and really looked like a flying machine! </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">That year for Track Gags, he would be looking for the bugs with his wings on. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He had a hoist lift him into the air, and he would flap around and shoot the bugs from the air. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">His flying machine became so popular that we made a spot for him in the come in. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He would go into the cage at the top of Gunther’s tiger props. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We would stop everything to make an announcement and have the audience count to three. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He would flap his wings and simply jump down the props level by level finally landing in the ring. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">This always got a huge applause!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Leave it to John McHugh to leave us all laughing!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Arial, sans-serif;color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /><br /></span></span><span style=" ;font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p></div></div></span>Jonathan Mitch Freddeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00391796062153387543noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937781668988736097.post-39036242416729168572010-02-18T22:51:00.006-06:002010-02-19T12:10:55.186-06:00All this for $5.00 !<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEAK0xfrt2kP-aUPw43SPtb4H8fCBPoJqDqWCNsxp-5rdgr81So8x6bj6NU0V0mM2yzPj9Md9phhSYaqZndTwRVa5BozM7ZdLOWRU9-kNxnrrAJxEGPpg_8AirHomOUR4tiS4E1H-jOGca/s1600-h/14431_1267435691074_1385264239_30747345_8053832_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 281px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEAK0xfrt2kP-aUPw43SPtb4H8fCBPoJqDqWCNsxp-5rdgr81So8x6bj6NU0V0mM2yzPj9Md9phhSYaqZndTwRVa5BozM7ZdLOWRU9-kNxnrrAJxEGPpg_8AirHomOUR4tiS4E1H-jOGca/s400/14431_1267435691074_1385264239_30747345_8053832_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440018520269769602" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxbAW_dI6wz3HmrdqeYTpJXb9Ud6ecfqfjGQd7mnFA1nyCMN4wFnVh4lIyfqWRMw7a6wfJArnHy1EjkmVyWYNBo7_o0yG2aKc3m_fwpTNuLv1C1qe4RTfYlgZkk2mgjQ6ZX0A_kUfiqsJv/s1600-h/harmonica+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 219px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxbAW_dI6wz3HmrdqeYTpJXb9Ud6ecfqfjGQd7mnFA1nyCMN4wFnVh4lIyfqWRMw7a6wfJArnHy1EjkmVyWYNBo7_o0yG2aKc3m_fwpTNuLv1C1qe4RTfYlgZkk2mgjQ6ZX0A_kUfiqsJv/s400/harmonica+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439813015749999874" /></a><br /><div> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Helvetica;font-size:12px;"><div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;">It was 1977 and it was time to present the new season’s gags to Mr. Feld.<span> </span>I was set to go; I had everything except a walkaround. <span> </span>I had no idea what I was going to do!<span> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;">So on the day we had to present, I just happened to be out and about in Venice and I couldn’t resist stopping in to the local music store. <span> </span>I walked inside, and there hanging on the wall on display was a huge harmonica! <span> </span>My mind started working, the wheels started turning… I figured it was a great clown prop!<span> </span>I had to ask the guy if it was for sale, and he told me I could have it for $5.00! <span> </span>Of course I bought it.<span> </span>What clown wouldn’t buy a prop like that?</span><span style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;font-size:12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;font-size:12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;">So after my day out shopping and scoring a massive harmonica, it was time to head to the arena to prepare for the evening events. <span> </span>I hadn’t even stopped to think about the walkaround I was expected to have that evening!<span> </span>I decided to head upstairs to the Attic, which is a sacred place above Clown Alley where old clown props are stored.<span> </span>I was looking for something… anything that I could use to get through the presentation!<span> </span></span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;">Nothing seemed to catch my eye.</span><span style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;font-size:12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;">Then it hit me!<span> </span>I’m thinking “HUGE HARMONICA!”<span> </span>But what could I do with it besides walk around with it?<span> </span>Think…think…think…<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;">Then it started to come to me.<span> </span>I started to think about some every day clothes I wore almost daily: an old pair of overalls, and my </span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;">oversize mountain climbing boots... <span> </span>Suddenly, an entire character was born!<span> </span>Adding a pillow in my belly was almost an afterthought, but it had to be…</span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;font-size:12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;">At this point in time, Barry Lubin was doing Grandma, and he ha</span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;">d a lot of whoopee cushions. <span> </span>Ideas, Ideas!!<span> </span></span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;">I asked him for one, split it open and put it on my head for a hat. <span> </span><span> </span>At the very least, this character would <u>look</u> funny and hopefully I could get by with that.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;font-size:12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;">Standing at my trunk, I glanced at the bag of ping pong balls I would use fo</span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;">r noses. <span> </span>Hmmmm, could I put them in my mouth… play that giant harmonica… and when I pulled it away, my cheeks would remain puffed out?<span> </span>YES! I had my walkaround!</span><span style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;font-size:12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;">The presentation began and I was nervous about whether or not this would be enough.<span> </span>So often what seems funny to us, just doesn’t go over well.<span> </span>To me, </span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;">it seemed pretty funny!<span> </span>I had great fun putting this character together!<span> </span>Now it was my turn to show it. <span> </span>I walked out with the harmonica in front of my mouth sat on the ring curb and started to rock out to the music. <span> </span>I really went at it stomping my feet and </span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;">dancing around. <span> </span>I waited for a break in the music a</span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;">nd just at the right moment I pulled the harmonica away and wiped my brow. <span> </span>I looked up to see Mr. Feld, and he was laughing hysterically!<span> </span>It actually worked! I knew I had succeeded…</span><span style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;font-size:12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;font-size:12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;">This character became very popular and in the following years I would do it more and mo</span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;">re in the show. It really worked well for the seats in Come In. <span> </span>With this character, I could do almost anything and get away with it!<span> </span><span> </span>At the time, </span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;">I didn't know what I had started but I knew it worked and I was having a blast doing it!</span><span style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;font-size:12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;">Fast forward to 2000: Tim Holst called me to the office </span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;">in Palmetto to settle the contract for that coming season. <span> </span>He specifically asked me if I still did the character with the ping pong balls. <span> </span>I told him I did </span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;">every once in a while but not all of the time. <span> </span><i>“Well, we want you to do it all the time.”</i><span> </span>Holst said.<span> </span>I wasn</span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;">'t sure I could, but told him I would sure give it a try.</span><span style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;font-size:12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;">He handed me the contract to sign. <span> </span>When I read through it, it said, "Jonathan Freddes, clown with ping pong ball in mouth character."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;">Wow!<span> </span>All the time?<span> </span>I wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing.<span> </span>It felt great that a character I had made up on a whim had been so successful and they wanted him all the time, but there’s a lot of pressure in doing that kind of thing.<span> </span>It didn’t take long to figure out that doing it all the time was quite painful with regular sized ping pong balls. <span> </span>I had to d</span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;">o a lot of experimenting until I found something I could use that was less painful. <span> </span>I won't even tell you what I finally found that worked. That’s my secret!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;">For the next seven years it was written exactly like that in my contract. <span> </span>All of this, for $5.00</span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:17.5pt;">!</span><span style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;font-size:12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; "><o:p><span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"> </span></o:p></p></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"></span> </div></span></div>Jonathan Mitch Freddeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00391796062153387543noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937781668988736097.post-12892989262175644632010-02-16T22:57:00.003-06:002010-02-16T23:11:07.065-06:00The Morning Newspaper<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoMsNj2nYXxou0ykYGkr7Ur8mGgTdyu7nP7HDClRDQf-J0td5DFFOnSHqLN-3xAxvexOhn1FpbSUCCR0a1IgsoRc7_bL43ZCqzVx4D16x2lhNZ017EdcKpAdzS1djFtDekzqtH3lpauBLd/s1600-h/mitchkisses.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 305px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoMsNj2nYXxou0ykYGkr7Ur8mGgTdyu7nP7HDClRDQf-J0td5DFFOnSHqLN-3xAxvexOhn1FpbSUCCR0a1IgsoRc7_bL43ZCqzVx4D16x2lhNZ017EdcKpAdzS1djFtDekzqtH3lpauBLd/s400/mitchkisses.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439072518333850130" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Back in 2000, when I returned to the show after 20 years, I expected some changes. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Tim Holst had told me things had changed quite a bit, and to try not to be too surprised.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Walking into the arena for the first time, I noticed there were huge numbers made out of tape laid out on the floor.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">What were these? We never had them in the past. I was soon to find out...</span></span><span style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">That first day of rehearsals was really full of surprises. After going through all the introductions, the director told us to line up at the Portal. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The what?</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I looked around to see if I could figure out what was going on just by watching, but I had to ask what that was. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">“The back curtain…” I was told.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The what?</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In my day, it was called </span></span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">the back door.</span></span><span style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Then, the director gave us each a number and told us he wanted a clown bust out. A what?</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Another term I never heard before. So I just asked him what that was…</span></span><span style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He began to explain to me that it was when all of the clowns would run out screaming and yelling and</span></span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> go to their number spot. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Ohhhh okay.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He told us we would do our skill in that spot. Our skill?</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I really didn’t do too much in the way of “skills”, but I sure knew how to be a clown.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span style=" ;font-family:Tahoma, sans-serif;"></span></span><span style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The director asked each clown what was their particular skill. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">One clown said, </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">“Balancing…”</span></i><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">the next guy said </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">“Juggling…”</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> and he just went down the line </span></span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">until he got to me. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He asked me and I thought about it for a moment… then said, </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"I read a newpaper."</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The director looked bewildered and said to me</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">,"Thats no skill!"</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I had no other reply than, </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"The way I read one takes </span></i></span><i><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">a lot of skill."</span></span></i><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I knew that the director had no other choice but to give me the benefit of the doubt and let me show him. I figur</span></span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ed with all of the chaos of the opening I would be subtle and read a newspaper. Now to </span><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">me</span></u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, THAT was clowning.</span></span><span style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The first time we came out in rehearsal, I obliged this number system, and marched out to my number and started reading my paper. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Yes sir, I was reading my paper and ignoring all that was going on around me. We did it again. This time</span></span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> I brought a chair with me and sat down to read my paper.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We did it again, and this time I brought a chair and a table with a coffee cup. Yes, I sat down and drank the coffee and read my newspaper. This continued over and over, and every time I brought something more with me.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And I read my newspaper…</span></span><span style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I finally en</span></span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ded up coming out with a chair, a table, a coffee cup, coffee pot, an extension cord…and… my newspaper.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I set up the chair and table with the coffee pot and cup. Then I would get all caught up in the extension cord, fight that for a bit, then finally get loose from it. </span></span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I would then look for a</span></span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> place to plug it in… all of this was going on during the Opening Parade.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">After I would finally get the cord plugged in, I would pour a cup of coffee offer it to an audience member.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">When they refused, I would sit down drink the coffee and… read my newspaper. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">This would continue until the opening was over.</span></span><span style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It was obvious that the Director wasn’t used to this type of clowning.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">My how things had changed!</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">After a lot of coaxing, he gave in and let me do it. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Old fashioned Clowing prevailed…</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Someone got a picture of my routine, and put it in the program. Ringling liked it so much they used it on their website for a number of years under Special Offers.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">A few years later, that picture was used for some e-cards you could get for Valentine’s Day, and I was told that picture was the best selling one!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Again, old fashioned clowning prevailed. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I was so pleased....</span></span></p></span>Jonathan Mitch Freddeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00391796062153387543noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937781668988736097.post-56505825209230020242010-02-15T23:15:00.012-06:002010-02-16T13:31:10.622-06:00Biking and Brawling in Kentucky with John Russell<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfGfg5S10w3od1i8p9HyYrFMWaeGeScu4c9xBi3Cweo1o_AqSAxEJ0ZfcNPQ6RBPZvPMjssKu0n4Eh4OWUSoIkcTqSCBZp2M4jY4yNejRDhcgeBiCdZ-D14F82SycTwsjAFS1z80EXijJN/s1600-h/russel.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 313px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfGfg5S10w3od1i8p9HyYrFMWaeGeScu4c9xBi3Cweo1o_AqSAxEJ0ZfcNPQ6RBPZvPMjssKu0n4Eh4OWUSoIkcTqSCBZp2M4jY4yNejRDhcgeBiCdZ-D14F82SycTwsjAFS1z80EXijJN/s400/russel.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438705898375358594" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I had help in editing this story by my dear friend Gigi Paul. She was around then and knew both of us quite well. Thanks for the help.</span></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Helvetica;font-size:12px;"><div style="padding-left: 10px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 15px; "><div><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-weight: bold;font-family:Times;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">One year, five of the clowns decided to</span></span><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">get motorcycles. It was Ruthie, Kerry Griffin, Tim Doody, and John Russell, and me. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">We were a regular motorcycle gang!</span></span></span><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">We would drive them overland and when the weather got bad Carl Wong would carry them on a flatbed trailer for 5 cents a mile. The ramp we used to load them was nothing more than a plank of wood. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Packing up in Norfolk, it was cold and rainy that day so we decided to load the bikes.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">As I rode up the plank, the plank kicked out and came straight back and hit me square in the forehead and knocked me out. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">From then on, I always walked my bike up the ramp.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> Later in the season, we were in Washington D.C. and it was our first time in the Capitol Center.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">The Bullets were in the finals for the NBA.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">John Russell and I were invited to do the halftime show for their home game while we were there. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">What an honor! John walked his stilts and I did the hat catch.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">But that’s not the story I’m telling today, you'll find out later why I told you that part.... </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">When we left D.C., we were headed for Louisville, Kentucky. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">The weather was great that day, so we decided to ride the bikes. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">It was quite a hike and we needed to stop, so we decided a State Park would be a great place to spend the night. We had no idea that Frosty and Ruthie were staying at the same State Park…</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> We really needed to try to get a good night sleep for the drive the next day, but as the night wore on, sleep was not to be.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">The people in the campsite next door were being quite loud. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">John’s idea was to go talk to them and ask them to tone it down.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I agreed. Little did we know…</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> We went over to their campsite, and much to our dismay, it turned out to be six big guys and their girlfriends celebrating their graduation. They were all quite drunk and apparently did not care who knew it.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">As we walked up to them, they were already on their feet; three of them took their places in front of John, and three of them in front of me.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Now bear in mind, John was over 6" tall… and there I stood a mere 5'4." </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Next to these guys, we seemed frighteningly small… but our leather jackets we wore made us both feel that we could conquer the world.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">We were TOUGH!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">So just then, John decided it was a good a time as any to say, </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">“Why don't you guys shut up! We're trying to sleep over there!"</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I knew then we were in trouble. One of the guys got all puffed up and asked John, </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">"Do you want trouble?" </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">John said </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">“No."</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> and immediately hit the guy in the face. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">The only thing I remember after that was three of those guys were on me and three of them were on John. They threw us to the ground and proceeded to kick the livin’ daylights out of us, and hit us repeatedly. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I was on the ground, and I rolled into fetal position and tried my best to cover myself.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I remember at one point, I looked over where John was, and saw him laying there out cold.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Completely knocked out! </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I then heard breaking bottles and saw them coming towards us.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I had no idea what was coming next…</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">But the guys’ girlfriends stepped in and told them to stop and they all got in their cars and started to leave. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">The next thing I know, I’m hearing gunshots coming from a few feet away!</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">By now, I’m wondering if we’re going to make it out of here alive…</span></span></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">But lo and behold, it was Frosty at the door of his trailer shooting and yelling, </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">"What's going on out there???"</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">By now, John had come to, and we got up and ran to Frosty’s trailer. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">We must have terrified Frosty, because all you could see were our eyes… everything else was covered with blood. He didn’t even recognize us at first…</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Once he realized it was us, he put us in his truck and rushed us to the nearest hospital. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">As we were leaving the Park, we could hear the crunching sounds of our bikes being destroyed. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> It was about twenty miles to the hospital, and the drive seemed like an eternity.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> After a few stitches</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">, we started on our way back. That’s when Frosty remembered we left Ruthie back at the Park all alone!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">By the time we got back to the Park, it was daylight. We went straight to Ruthie’s camp to wake her up. To our surprise she never heard a thing! Thank goodness!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">The police arrived and asked if we wanted to press charges. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">They said they knew the boys and their parents, that they were influential in the town. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">One of the boy’s father was actually the Mayor! </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">We were told we’d have to return for court, and that just wasn’t possible, so we decided against it. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Frosty and Ruthie had to leave to get to Louisville, we stayed behind… </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Sure enough, we found our bikes thrown into a creek with picnic tables on top of them. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Since we couldn't put makeup on and couldn't work, we decided to stay to get our bikes in order. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">We were moving awfully slow, so on the way to Louisville we got a hotel to rest and recover.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Relaxing in the evening, we turned on the TV and the 7th game of the NBA playoffs was on. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">At halftime they showed highlights of the last six games. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Well what do you know!</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Right there in front of us was the halftime show we had done just a few days earlier. Watching ourselves on TV was just what we needed to cheer us up and help get us back on track.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; "><b><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">The next day we left for Louisville, and two days later we were back to work, none for the worse!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; "><o:p><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></o:p></p></span></div></div></span>Jonathan Mitch Freddeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00391796062153387543noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937781668988736097.post-39745312070508417582010-02-14T09:47:00.011-06:002010-02-15T16:17:03.731-06:00The King and the Clown<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEittBZgCeFbvTMrOd5E3VL4iK7knOleW8ImRrLNYNZcl6LyqREpdXvcio4-lNLw7d7uMXn4NqIuxAXlfD_VzEc3txcNq73SnZMki8e8qCGsHuhkhp2M3z2drUsNUuF9hQ7xPT-CMxkQ84mn/s1600-h/me+and+okabe.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEittBZgCeFbvTMrOd5E3VL4iK7knOleW8ImRrLNYNZcl6LyqREpdXvcio4-lNLw7d7uMXn4NqIuxAXlfD_VzEc3txcNq73SnZMki8e8qCGsHuhkhp2M3z2drUsNUuF9hQ7xPT-CMxkQ84mn/s400/me+and+okabe.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438279418240607250" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWktrVwB23GNdxmy6Rvrek6tlNSLy_h4RITaxeITovuvfOX9sVyXXT8GD9ij2ENba3XstVARxO8wQbMrog3KgrMdyiTO8IQMQEPrQuWiWjRwfZwQGv5BJXvSglodcQyn70Pi96OAzY7q8D/s1600-h/okabe+writing.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 262px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWktrVwB23GNdxmy6Rvrek6tlNSLy_h4RITaxeITovuvfOX9sVyXXT8GD9ij2ENba3XstVARxO8wQbMrog3KgrMdyiTO8IQMQEPrQuWiWjRwfZwQGv5BJXvSglodcQyn70Pi96OAzY7q8D/s400/okabe+writing.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438279415380508530" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8QOzTYjbr36RH107pyKLWgXrJSY7AqJPtW-uM65Q5zYixvw-l7bn8tw1LYgRJa9t7nbyZ3FaaM6DQvy-zgjGrg8VwkOlGtM_bcNOqbrtQV5KdagfrkKzypkbodly_5C6JA0G2PkiYfCVV/s1600-h/okabe+clown.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 343px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8QOzTYjbr36RH107pyKLWgXrJSY7AqJPtW-uM65Q5zYixvw-l7bn8tw1LYgRJa9t7nbyZ3FaaM6DQvy-zgjGrg8VwkOlGtM_bcNOqbrtQV5KdagfrkKzypkbodly_5C6JA0G2PkiYfCVV/s400/okabe+clown.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438279404307773010" /></a><br />It was a three show day in Japan. The first show I noticed a man in a wheel chair with his wife. They were both dressed very nicely and looked quite distinguished. He was really enjoying the show and was paying particular attention to me every time I made an appearance. People were around him making sure he was well taken care of. <div> </div><div> </div><div> We started the second show and I noticed he was still there enjoying the second show as much as the first one. In between shows I saw him backstage mingling with some of the other performers. I just assumed he was just a circus fan who knew some of the people.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> After the third show the producer of our show told me this man would like to meet me. Who was this person? Perhaps a government person? Or maybe another producer? Either way, I knew he was some one important. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> He introduced himself as Mr Okabe, a well known artist in Japan who especially loved to paint clowns. The first American clown he painted was "Blinko" Ernie Burch. In fact this painting hangs in the Ringling Museum in Sarasota. They became good friends and visited him many times over the years until his Ernies death in 1997.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> Blinko was a clown known for wearing 2 1/2 " long eyelashes. Bobby Kaye told me that those big eyelashes he wore were cut from tin cans! Can you imagine how that must have felt to wear those every day? I shared this with him and he thought that was amazing. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> He first met Chuck Sidlow when he was boss clown for Ringling. Mr Okabe was visiting and asked to meet the clowns, especially Lou Jacobs. Chuck obliged and brought him into the alley. It was something he never forgot.</div><div><br /></div><div> A few years later Chuck went to Japan with Ringling. Mr. Okabe visited the show and found Chuck again. Chuck fell in love with Japan and decided to stay. During that time they had become very good friends. </div><div><br /></div><div> Later Chuck moved back to America and went to work for Circus Sarasota. Mr Okabe came to see the show and once again they were reunited. Out of respect for Lou and his family, and the way Dolly and Pedro were carrying on the traditions of circus. He volunteered to paint the poster for the next years performance of Circus Sarasota. </div><div><br /></div><div> When he heard I not only knew Chuck but that we were good friends and sometimes partners he couldn't believe it . We talked for about an hour about people, circus, and his artwork.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> He had written a chidrens book ten years ago about a clown and a King. The illustration of the clown in the book came from his imagination. He happened to see a poster of our show with a picture of me on it. He realized instantly I was the clown he had dreamed of ten years before! Not exactly me, but a close similarity. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> He couldn't believe he had found the clown from within his mind! They got in his car and drove 2 hours just to be able to meet me.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> He asked if he could come back the next day and do a sketch of me. What an honor this was for me to do this for an artist who was so well known. The next day, as he was drawing me we talked</div><div>about a huge mural he was doing of clowns. One of the clowns was the clown from the book. He wanted to replace that clown with me. </div><div><br /></div><div> After that he presented me with a copy of the book signed for my daughter and a loose interpretation of it in English. It is a treasure I will always keep in a special place within my heart. </div>Jonathan Mitch Freddeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00391796062153387543noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937781668988736097.post-13175909068258521432010-02-13T22:17:00.004-06:002010-02-13T23:29:41.772-06:00HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjeyAv5Nuzwm7hrLocFOTCiWHRRzvLZaF9IpBLdI56Ibow43uWqTTnDkY51LR_3JAbBdkhqKWKxv3RyH0q4V22zSKArQnbqhukHtBA8Gzw8JCTHQJVoDjnhgOpDKlAn7znFnaLPLKGVVM5/s1600-h/lisa+love+shot.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 274px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjeyAv5Nuzwm7hrLocFOTCiWHRRzvLZaF9IpBLdI56Ibow43uWqTTnDkY51LR_3JAbBdkhqKWKxv3RyH0q4V22zSKArQnbqhukHtBA8Gzw8JCTHQJVoDjnhgOpDKlAn7znFnaLPLKGVVM5/s400/lisa+love+shot.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437966978151477954" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglE_XbLvR5JUD_RAGXg-n3ADTWmmUO7qR4qXogfj9y7Cj-BoojJYVgT6C8tCpiL7iVm6j-HkLVsrhZOUvmzYCWo5CaQnShegFditB-VbarZnm-CYQgAK6miuuQqNoDIRQjaeBrVItIz3Yq/s1600-h/lizzy+kiss"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglE_XbLvR5JUD_RAGXg-n3ADTWmmUO7qR4qXogfj9y7Cj-BoojJYVgT6C8tCpiL7iVm6j-HkLVsrhZOUvmzYCWo5CaQnShegFditB-VbarZnm-CYQgAK6miuuQqNoDIRQjaeBrVItIz3Yq/s400/lizzy+kiss" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437966971056619154" /></a><br />Happy valentines day to all of my readers. I'm taking a day off to be with my two valentines Lisa and ElizabethJonathan Mitch Freddeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00391796062153387543noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937781668988736097.post-74613040424076920752010-02-12T08:41:00.022-06:002010-02-13T08:12:27.196-06:00"Those Freddes Boys"<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHXdttMsyD6J28q2e69c3a7JInGvFUiIlaEAhWUzkLn6NVaXg8NmgSPpnwoJXZ6gChkSdz117BCIuQGDh4aH05MnW-akIOKiLgN317FfNHaU2xb634rUUd9jMwiCgWCjOVdILqsT0CQ7G8/s1600-h/early+ringling.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 281px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHXdttMsyD6J28q2e69c3a7JInGvFUiIlaEAhWUzkLn6NVaXg8NmgSPpnwoJXZ6gChkSdz117BCIuQGDh4aH05MnW-akIOKiLgN317FfNHaU2xb634rUUd9jMwiCgWCjOVdILqsT0CQ7G8/s400/early+ringling.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437416599939711682" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiweYClUUj5fYPFPTGnZqGpxflj3yKiZ5EAY6tKEbMR49LAQqH38iIYKQpj6ykZU2w7N4K8_xcJEO70lHkCZp5jwIJ8Vt6M41UzoTNApIq_EPNwMv3T3TTvQ3pbgBtiyPzWQerxjrEOUAPA/s1600-h/The+Freddes+Boys.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiweYClUUj5fYPFPTGnZqGpxflj3yKiZ5EAY6tKEbMR49LAQqH38iIYKQpj6ykZU2w7N4K8_xcJEO70lHkCZp5jwIJ8Vt6M41UzoTNApIq_EPNwMv3T3TTvQ3pbgBtiyPzWQerxjrEOUAPA/s400/The+Freddes+Boys.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437416592833516962" /></a><br /> As young kids in the mountains of Colorado who would have thought we would end up in Sarasota Florida. Two more opposite places you couldn't find, even if you were looking for them. Snowy Colorado and Sunny Florida! <div> </div><div> </div><div> As children we were very close brothers and, this continues today. We are only 17 months apart so, everything we did growing up we did together. We had the same friends and went through the same experiences together as teenagers. I can't tell you how many times we have been referred to as "Those Freddes Boys" In fact many people thought we were triplets!</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> When I went to Clown College and later on to the Ringling show was the first time we would be separated. I never thought how much I would miss them. I just figured it was part of growing up.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> My father had been a very big business man in the state of Colorado. At the height of his career he owned 3 music stores, a recording studio, along with a talent and booking agency.<br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> In the sixties with the influx of rock and roll he was responsible for bringing all of the top groups of the time into Colorado. It was nothing for me to be backstage hanging out with the likes of Eric Burdon and the Animals or The Young Rascals to name a couple of them. He was also responsible for starting the career of Flash Cadillac and the Continental Kids, a popular fifties group of the time. </div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div> He owned a club for teenagers that had 3 floors with a local live band on each floor. There were even mixed drinks that were non alcoholic. Only people under 18 were admitted and I was the doorman for this club. One thing he served was a six foot sub sandwich called the "Yellow Submarine" after the popular Beatles song at the time. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> Always an eye for detail he even went so for as to have the bread tinted yellow. Decorating it with olives and various condiments so it resembled a real submarine! If you ordered it they would present it to you by playing the song "Yellow Submarine." My father was always ahead of his time. </div><div><br /></div><div> Our town was built on the military and during Vietnam the influx of soldiers for training really made it into a boom town. We had Ft. Carson Army base just south of town, and the Air Force Academy just to the north.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> In 1975 with the end of the war, and the failing economy it forced my father to close everything. It was then that my mother called me and told me her blindness was getting worse and about the situation for my father. She told me the boys would be out of school soon and wondered if maybe I could get jobs for them on the show. I was excited to think we would all be together again! </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> I talked to the management and it just so happened they could use someone on transportation and, someone in the wardrobe </div><div>department. I called my mother told her the news. They were put on a bus to meet us in Tucson Arizona, as this would be the closest the show would come to Colorado. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> I remember the anticipation I felt going to the bus station to pick them up. Just like old times. Once again we would be together. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> Transportation was a job that included transporting anything that had to do with the show including loading the train and bringing in the cats for Gunther. Wardrobe consisted of taking care of all of the costumes and props. Mark went to wardrobe. Matt would be on transportation. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> You can imagine what fun we had traveling around the country with a circus and being in all the big cities. This was some thing new and exciting to all of us.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> Towards the end of the season Matt met a really nice girl in New Jersey and decided it was time to leave. Mark stayed on and continued working, eventually becoming the assistant in the wardrobe department under Wally Piper. </div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div> At that time our props were built by a company in New Jersey. Mr. Feld had decided that we should start building our own props since we maintained them on the road anyway. Wally was the one to head up the project. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> Wally told Mark to stay on the show until he had it going. Once it was up and running, Mark could come down and go to work for him in Florida. Hence, the beginning of what we all know as Hagenbeck -Wallace. </div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div> Mark was one of the first employees of the company along with handful of others. They were set up in the back of Winter Quarters in one of the bays. With nothing more than a band saw, welder, table saw, and a few hand tools they were able to build an entire show! I believe it was the undersea adventure for the Blue show. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> Marks first prop was a little red submarine he built entirely by himself and was really proud of. In fact he still keeps that picture and tells people about how it was his beginning. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div> Matt had moved back to Florida a few years later and went to work for Hagenbeck -Wallace. So now the three of us were working for the Feld Family once again. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> As Hagenbeck expanded they moved it to Sarasota. My brothers went with them. By this time the Felds had acquired Ice Follies and Holiday on Ice and were building all of the shows at Hagenbeck. </div><div> </div><div> Sharon Bayer came in 1987 and was hired as secretary to the Vice President of Ice Show operations Dick Haskell. She must have really caught Marks eye. They fell in love and were married in 1990. In 1998 Sharon was offered a job in the Circus Creative area of the company as secretary for Tim Holst, Vice President of talent. </div><div><br /></div><div> By 1979 I had left the circus but not the Feld Family. I went on their first ice show in the concession department. This is were my son Ian was born. I remained on the Ice Shows for several years throughout the '80's </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> I had an older brother Jim who was a painter living in Florida who also went to work at Hagenbeck in the paint department. At one time there were six of us working for the company all with the name Freddes! After a year or so my older brother left and moved back to Colorado. </div><div><br /></div><div> My sister Marybeth still lives there. Never involved in the circus herself she's very proud of her brothers but, vows never to leave Colorado. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> Mark eventually became Vice President of Hagenbeck - Wallace and Matt became his right hand man. In 2000 I returned to the Red Show. In 2004 I went to the Gold Show. Once again we were working together for the Feld Family. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> After 30 years Mark retired from Hagenbeck to start doing some of his own projects. Shortly after that Sharon left, and three years later I left the Gold Unit.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> My brother Matt continues to work for the company. He still carries on the legacy of "Those Freddes Boys" </div>Jonathan Mitch Freddeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00391796062153387543noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937781668988736097.post-43486195324183978452010-02-11T20:39:00.012-06:002010-02-12T11:30:01.694-06:00A beautiful story.......<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_9nNrs4knLRXxskHIbgkcz_VkWjBnt-VvkSnP4fTe_9vaiMYCcbWuilqIHoKMzXY6PjiIi5555HMIXX4U-vvCHV9Ve7RpM7e9OS_ZcBa6jKTb4Vj3_77DdurtqeCj2Y8mbg8IKIx6tiTa/s1600-h/amy.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 303px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_9nNrs4knLRXxskHIbgkcz_VkWjBnt-VvkSnP4fTe_9vaiMYCcbWuilqIHoKMzXY6PjiIi5555HMIXX4U-vvCHV9Ve7RpM7e9OS_ZcBa6jKTb4Vj3_77DdurtqeCj2Y8mbg8IKIx6tiTa/s400/amy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437217057047809314" /></a><br />Sometimes we don't know the impact we have on people by being in the circus. As clowns we meet thousands of people throughout the season as we move from town to town. How many names do we ever remember? Very few. Of course it would be impossible to remember everyone.<div> </div><div> </div><div> The town was Greensboro, North Carolina my first year on the road and I was working the seats. During the come in if you weren't in a gag on the floor you would work the seats doing small bit of business and general meet and greet. Because the audience was not allowed on the floor.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> You meet so many people that most of them are just faces in the crowd. Every so often you have that very special person who you might remember. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> Two years later when I returned to Greensboro I was getting ready for the come in. A note came for me backstage that someone wanted to see me. </div><div><br /></div><div> The note read as follows: My name is Michael Daniels and I met you two years ago with my daughter Amy. We are in seat numbers 22, 23, and 24. Would you please come say hello? Since the audience couldn't come down to us a note like this was not uncommon. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> When I got there, sitting in the seats was a family with a beautiful little girl who was about four years old. As I approached them the girl started to wave and jump before I even got to them. Pointing and saying,"There he is!" I said hello to them and the father started to tell me this story. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> When they came to the show two years previously I had made such an impact on their daughter that when they went home she named everyone of her stuffed animals Mitch. And it was quite a collection of them. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> For the following two years she never left them alone, always asking when the circus would be back so they could take Mitch the clown out to dinner. They asked if I would go out after the show and have dinner with them. Of course I obliged. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> We continued to correspond for the next two years. When the show came back, again we went out to dinner. Now the little girl was about six and telling me her own version and how her animals are still all called Mitch. I left the show in 1979 and lost contact over the years.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> When I came back to Ringling in 2000 we went to Greensboro and I was working the adventure. A woman in her late twenties came up to me with a beautiful little girl. She pulled out a picture of me and a little girl from 1975. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> She said, " Do you remember me? My name is Amy Daniels and this is my four year old daughter Mary." She told me her daughter had inherited some of her stuffed animals and they still call them all Mitch. They asked me out to dinner with them after the show. Of course I said, "Yes."</div>Jonathan Mitch Freddeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00391796062153387543noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937781668988736097.post-66679197638803128572010-02-10T21:17:00.015-06:002010-02-12T16:31:00.888-06:00Henry and my 50 dollar car<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHWACGb3zJxAb6mbkXOdnHQHvd5-rxzSeLinvKZgaisgdArYldjn91oxWAiJBmvaECneH2ZOdU54yp3VNWyXQ7VTnk60_gLoPPOSghPxiKtbP3I9-qK7PvWq4ism58fyfaEsfm1gHn6kB5/s1600-h/henry.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 258px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHWACGb3zJxAb6mbkXOdnHQHvd5-rxzSeLinvKZgaisgdArYldjn91oxWAiJBmvaECneH2ZOdU54yp3VNWyXQ7VTnk60_gLoPPOSghPxiKtbP3I9-qK7PvWq4ism58fyfaEsfm1gHn6kB5/s400/henry.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436853981589265010" /></a><br /><div> It was my third year on the road and I decided I would by a car. It was a little Toyota station wagon that I paid $500.00 for. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> As we left Venice everything went well. We got to Miami and I needed new tires and figured I would get them there before we really got going out of Florida. I decide to get some good Michelins that would cost me $200.00.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> From Miami we would start the trek up the east coast working our way up to New York. This was always the worst part of the tour. Miserable cold with that wet snow up through the Carolinas into Virginia and then Baltimore. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> We left Miami towards Greensboro and my distributer on the car decided to blow up. I had to be towed off the highway to a shop. The towing plus the repair was $500.00.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> After that every thing was going good until the trip to New York. On that trip one of the cylinders on the engine quit working but I was able to limp into New York City. We had a lot of Polish people on the show at the time and, they were all good at mechanics. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> One in particular, named Bogden was really good at rebuilding engines. He told me since we would be in New York for 12 weeks he would have time to do it for $800.00. I was bound and determined I was going to have a car so I said go ahead. We finished New York and my car was done. After 12 weeks in one place I was ready to drive. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> From there it was Philadelphia and then the three day drive to Oklahoma City and on to Phoenix. This marked the beginning of warm weather and sunny California just around the corner. It was the trip to Phoenix when it happened. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> They call it the high desert out there because of the surrounding mountains. Going across the mountains in the desert my engine started to get hot. I didn't know what to do! I saw a sign for a town twenty miles ahead and thought I would just keep driving. I didn't have much choice as I was in the middle of nowhere. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> Just as I finished reading that sign my car stopped running. I tried to start it to no avail. What was I going to do? I stood there trying to think of some way of getting out of this mess. Out of nowhere here comes Henry Schroer. He was Gunthers right hand man. </div><div> </div><div> Gunther had a trailer he would use as a dressing room at the buildings, and Henry drove it from town to town with a beautiful van. It was a black van with tigers and leopards painted on the sides. You couldn't miss it coming down the road.</div><div><br /></div><div> He pulled over to see if he could help. I told him what happened and asked if he thought he could tow me. It was only 20 miles to the next town and I would get it fixed. He said yes but we had nothing to tow it with.</div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div> I looked across a field and out about a half a mile out I could see a tractor. I thought there might be a chain on it we could use, and when we got my car fixed I would return it. So I walked out to it and sure enough there was tow chain sitting on it. I dragged it back, we hooked it to the car and off we went. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> We had gone about three miles and ran into a road block. When we stopped we could see an old farmer standing with the police. They told us that the chain belonged to the guy and he wanted it back. He had seen me go out and take it off his tractor and called the police. He would not press charges as long as we gave it to him. They left us there and told us we would have to figure out some other way to tow it.</div><div><br /></div><div> Thats when we decided to cut the seat belts out and tie them together. We started down the road and Henry started to go pretty fast. Remember we had a van pulling a trailer and my car behind the trailer! Well from my car moving back and forth and me hitting the brakes the seat belts kept breaking. We would stop tie them together and go again. Each time they would get shorter and shorter until I was only 2 feet away from the trailer. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> I think Henry may have forgotten I was behind him, because he started to go about 70 mph. I was holding on for dear life! My knuckles turned white from holding the wheel so tight. We both had CB radios and, in panic I would yell at Henry to slow down. When I did he would come back with, "What? I cant understand you. Your talking to close to the microphone." Or he would say I was talking too loud. He kept repeating this over and over as I tried to get him to slow down. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> We finally made it into this small town with a junkyard that did repairs. The man told me I had cooked the engine and it would cost me another $500.00 to fix it. I asked him if he wanted to buy the car from me.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> He said if I had the title he would give me $50.00 for it. I took everything out of it and put it in Henrys van. I looked in the glove box for the title and couldn't find it. He gave me his card and said if I mailed to him he would send me a check. We got in the van and headed for Phoenix. </div><div><br /></div><div> No, the story doesn't end there.... I went to my train room and looked for the title and couldn't locate it anywhere. Two years later I got a new room on the train and while moving into it I found the title in a bunch of papers. I still had his card in my wallet, so I mailed it to him and got my $50.00!</div><div> </div><div> <br /></div>Jonathan Mitch Freddeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00391796062153387543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937781668988736097.post-81198502461163485082010-02-09T19:53:00.012-06:002010-02-10T06:40:39.712-06:00Roll out the Barrel<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0tHYuFk17foapiPIz3AsGdrVHCTe7ko6cSySX-cxwXny-q_uYJbNjAwP2ldyWZfMMUYsVuUTMixgBaqK8bvnbMU46xE95hR7LZ3qmU8BUym__BkQA-W4jgFXAKjR6Vyc0GTk-57Qs-xQ5/s1600-h/Backwards+feet.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 310px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0tHYuFk17foapiPIz3AsGdrVHCTe7ko6cSySX-cxwXny-q_uYJbNjAwP2ldyWZfMMUYsVuUTMixgBaqK8bvnbMU46xE95hR7LZ3qmU8BUym__BkQA-W4jgFXAKjR6Vyc0GTk-57Qs-xQ5/s400/Backwards+feet.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436457335715094226" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7C-JgDSJH0PoGDbfm8qhI45zfS6lW-Dm1XFlvul-JPMFElFG_zVKBXuRO3dEOT5ge0OE8t5AyOtvKSxJussEOYu4JT6jbmjbswi2kHAFbkFO1_LPUjjtgBxljP_C_iNAK3YJiy6DtoRfW/s1600-h/lou+barrel+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 329px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7C-JgDSJH0PoGDbfm8qhI45zfS6lW-Dm1XFlvul-JPMFElFG_zVKBXuRO3dEOT5ge0OE8t5AyOtvKSxJussEOYu4JT6jbmjbswi2kHAFbkFO1_LPUjjtgBxljP_C_iNAK3YJiy6DtoRfW/s400/lou+barrel+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436457327299650594" /></a><br /> It was my first year on the show. I was still doing the walkaround with the big fish over me, and the levitation stop gag. <div><br /></div><div> I was trying to find that special thing that would be all mine. We were allowed to experiment back then and try different things every day in the walkarounds, come in, or stop gags. This is how you learned. <div> </div><div><br /></div><div> Other than the production gags nothing else was set in stone . You also had the freedom to change your makeup until you found that perfect one. Sometimes this could take years. <br /></div><div> </div><div> Of course this was done under the supervision of Frosty and the other veteran clowns. This policy changed over the years. I suppose because of the passing of Lou Jacobs, Bobby Kaye, and Duane Thorpe. Together the three of them had over 100 years of experience. If they didn't know about clowning who would? </div><div> </div><div> Finally the retirement of Frosty Little who was Boss clown for 20 years. I can only speculate because that was during a time when I had left Ringling. </div><div> </div><div> I was practicing my balancing and hat trick skills trying to come up with some different for a track gag. I would go out and try doing these things and nothing but applause was received from the audience. NO LAUGHS! Where do I get them? I was really getting frustrated about it.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> Lou noticing my frustration came up to me one day holding a wooden hoop About 14" in diameter. He said to me, " Your doing some good tricks but they're not funny." After that he showed me the hoop and told me it was something I could add that would make it funny. Then he doubled up his 6'?" frame and slid through it as if it was nothing! </div><div> </div><div> After that he showed me a few more tricks I would be able to do with it. He told me to take it and work with it, add it to what I was doing, and make it funny. He said I could do a whole act just with that hoop. </div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div> Immediately I started to take it out on the track and try it during the stop gags. I GOT LAUGHS! I continued to keep working at it the rest of the year. I liked getting those laughs.</div><div> </div><div> When we got to winter quarters Lou showed up with a red barrel. He told me it used to be Kinkos barrel and he had it sitting around in his garage. </div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div> Kinko was a clown in the early part of the 20th century who used to do comedy contortion with it. His real name was Glenn Sundbery? Probably spelled wrong. I actually saw a drawing of Kinko using it at the turn of the century. Lou used it sometime in the thirties. He gave it to me in the seventies. </div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div> He told me that the tricks he showed me with the hoop could be done with the barrel and showed me how to do it. I created an act with it that eventually became my signature.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>In fact, when Lou went to Clown College to teach, the show needed something to fill in for the little car gag. They asked me to do it. What an honor this was. Center ring in "The Greatest Show on Earth" all by myself! I sure made Lou proud. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> In the 90's I took a break from clowning and donated it to a small circus museum in Venice owned by Fred and Laura Landrum, along with all of my costumes. In 2000 I got it back from them because I was going back to Ringling. Shortly after that they both died and I heard everything was sold on Ebay! Someone was watching over me and that barrel, I think I know who it was.</div><div> </div><div> I continue to do that gag today 35 years later. To this day, every time I do it I can still feel the spirit of Lou coaching me with his broken German accent and telling me to make it funny...... </div></div>Jonathan Mitch Freddeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00391796062153387543noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937781668988736097.post-78350392650226083032010-02-09T06:29:00.013-06:002010-02-09T10:16:53.674-06:00Me and Gene Kelly<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUjuU2zSqJBiBitxYIyPmJtNzbt605L3OO5X8f13D7w5juP9i3Ps5aP7q78y5IHt-gGiSULBJ5m9J8-fFOQXP8hKmr5JtwO0ZkkCtveE_DFYndYAt1-tUYAzE68bVm4anviTMjOaCEmwo9/s1600-h/gene+kelly.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 282px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUjuU2zSqJBiBitxYIyPmJtNzbt605L3OO5X8f13D7w5juP9i3Ps5aP7q78y5IHt-gGiSULBJ5m9J8-fFOQXP8hKmr5JtwO0ZkkCtveE_DFYndYAt1-tUYAzE68bVm4anviTMjOaCEmwo9/s400/gene+kelly.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436236946600202642" /></a><br />We were on our way to St. Pete Florida for the TV taping . What excitement for a young kid only 18 years old to be on National TV! Before the age of video we always would make a 90 minute special that would air every year. I had the pleasure of doing 3 of them. The ringmaster ways always a big celebrity and one them was Gene Kelly. I couldn't believe it!<div> </div><div> </div><div> He was from Pittsburgh, Pa. and my mother came from Johnstown. Her father was a prominent business man in that town. From the time to time as a child I heard this story...</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> Gene and his brother were looking to open their first dance studio in Pittsburgh and needed some funding. My grandfather was one of the people who helped them out. For this my mother was one of his first students. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> I had heard this story every time a Gene Kelly movie would come on the TV . I knew it well. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> When we did the taping there he was in real life! During one of the breaks I figured I would ask him about it. I collected my nerves and approached this icon of the silver screen. Introducing myself I told him about this story I'd heard all my life. To my surprise he remembered my mother and grandfather as if it was yesterday! <br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> He asked about my mother and I told him about her pending blindness. Thats when he asked for her phone number so he could to call her. I didn't know he meant right then! </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> We went to a phone booth and called her. They talked for a 1/2 hour! As I listened to them talk it was like listening to two kids reminiscing about their youth...... </div>Jonathan Mitch Freddeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00391796062153387543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937781668988736097.post-4945523822546900492010-02-08T06:51:00.006-06:002010-02-09T14:24:39.356-06:00Richard Slayton<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYZowLM7vCUvaz_0TleQY2YyhVDjKi7yfS52szoq55Vx_jFU98A9a2LPrvunxhiRWENolg27HapQNs8SQSNQFXiTTHVHprjTDPb0hY49Yf6gMF5pQZx9ZOYTz_-AVRIFPWzABL9ep1xJt_/s1600-h/s1605033751_30192041_6517034.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 130px; height: 103px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYZowLM7vCUvaz_0TleQY2YyhVDjKi7yfS52szoq55Vx_jFU98A9a2LPrvunxhiRWENolg27HapQNs8SQSNQFXiTTHVHprjTDPb0hY49Yf6gMF5pQZx9ZOYTz_-AVRIFPWzABL9ep1xJt_/s400/s1605033751_30192041_6517034.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436342065741149250" /></a><br />Today marks one year since my dear friend has left this earth. <div><br /></div><div> Richard and I met on" Little Miss Venice". This was a boat the show would lease and have a party for the first of mays to be welcomed. It was on this night I first met Richard. </div><div><br /></div><div> I was talking to him about some one who was going to give me a ride to the train. He warned me about about this guy and said not to go. So I didn't. Sure enough he was right. This person ended up hitting the Venice bridge and injuring everyone in the car. </div><div><br /></div><div> From that day on we became inseparable friends. We even shared the same birthday. This seemed to make our friendship even more special. </div><div><br /></div><div>Whether driving overland together or staying with him in his trailer we always had fun. Richard was born on the show and went from concession vendor to concession manager. He always dreamed of being manager on the Red and it always seemed to elude him. Finally he was able to achieve that dream. He called me personally to let me know how happy he was. This was a true friend.</div><div> I want to share one story I'll never forget. We were in Miami in 1977. It was a cold day and the train was far away so I was staying in his trailer on the lot. In fact it actually snowed. He didn't have any propane so the trailer was freezing . Because of the busy schedule we didn't have time to get any propane. </div><div><br /></div><div> We noticed there was a fly on the curtain that hadn't moved in 2 days. Finally we were able to get some propane and warm up the trailer. We watched the fly and noticed it started to move slowly and stretch its wings. Slowly it twitched until it got warmed up. At first it flew slowly around until it got going. We let him warm up, opened the door and our friendly fly was gone....... - Mitch -<br /></div>Jonathan Mitch Freddeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00391796062153387543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937781668988736097.post-35524338311993564542010-02-07T14:25:00.024-06:002010-02-07T22:18:45.123-06:00Where do I sign?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUGDZqNM57e_la52Wv14wbfteI9UgXMdRxy_CCbmMj42tPw6NJr3pCHCtu-Hr1bwie0GkagAworg_t5pMdJHnfzpMb5TusQkm6HkkZuRM4HkcIJZBP4di0aMzeKj8pl1TRL9nOMJ_4FLLi/s1600-h/G'boroGuestClown_article.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 257px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUGDZqNM57e_la52Wv14wbfteI9UgXMdRxy_CCbmMj42tPw6NJr3pCHCtu-Hr1bwie0GkagAworg_t5pMdJHnfzpMb5TusQkm6HkkZuRM4HkcIJZBP4di0aMzeKj8pl1TRL9nOMJ_4FLLi/s400/G'boroGuestClown_article.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435608760252337154" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> Reflections of a 35 year friendship by Jeff Darnell. Clown College</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> graduate from 1978</span><div> </div><div> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Helvetica;font-size:12px;"><pre style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: 16px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; background-image: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); white-space: pre-wrap; background-position: initial initial; font-family:Arial, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><br /></pre><pre style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: 16px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; background-image: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); white-space: pre-wrap; background-position: initial initial; font-family:Arial, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><br /></pre><pre style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: 16px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; background-image: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); white-space: pre-wrap; background-position: initial initial; font-family:Arial, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It was a Dream come true… the first of many. 35 years ago today, I received the opportunity of a lifetime… to be a “guest clown” with the Red Unit of Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus! I knew for several weeks in advance that this was going to happen, so I did all I could to prepare for such an experience. I was fifteen at the time and had already dabbled in clowning. I had what I guess they now call “Coulro-philia.” (I hate the word coulrophobia…but that’s a topic for another day.) I loved clowns! Lou Jacobs, Coco, Otto Griebling, Pio Nock, and many others were my childhood heroes! They were larger than life. They could put 6000 people in the palms of their hands and make them laugh, cry, and sit on the edge of their seat for as little, or as long, as they wanted to. They were masters of mirth! As early as I can remember, my dad would take me to watch the elephants walk down Lee Street on their way to the Coliseum. The “Elephant Walk” was as big as the Christmas Parade to me, maybe even bigger. People would line the streets back then. Whole classrooms took field trips for this annual tradition. Local newspaper, radio and TV personalities would ride on the backs of these majestic pachyderms as they sauntered from downtown Greensboro to the their home for six days on High Point Road. It was now officially circus week! The shiny silver train was parked on a side track just off Spring Garden Road. My dad and I would drive up and down the road running parallel to the tracks at least a dozen times during show week. You see, I had known since second grade that a career in the circus, and a diploma from Clown College, was what I wanted. By 1975, I had already written to Mr. Irvin Feld several times about my desire to attend this unique institution. Back then, clowns were respected and revered as heroes! It was the big leagues. It was the Greatest Show on Earth! I walked through the back door of the Greensboro Coliseum on February 8, 1975 at the appointed time to find Mitch Freddes waiting for me. He somehow drew the “short match” for this PR event and got assigned the task of herding me around backstage. His job was to keep me safe, and transform me into a guest clown that afternoon. Mitch was a “First of May” in 1975. He was one of 11 from his class that received contracts on the Red Unit that year. I’m not sure what his expectations for the afternoon were, but, for me, it was like meeting my long lost older brother for the first time. We both played drums, we both loved the circus and clowning, and we’ve been friends ever since. My first encounter with Frosty Little came about the time we were powdering the clown white when he yelled “10 minutes… hoterini!” This meant Come In started in ten minutes, so we needed to finish up the make up and get ready for the first of several gags they let me participate in. I was in Come In, did an “antique phone” walk around with Tim Doody, and climbed out of the clown car with over a dozen other clowns and a two man giraffe. It was awesome! A whirlwind of activity made those three hours fly by so fast that it seemed like a dream. I was surrounded by the likes of Lou Jacobs, Bobby Kay, Duane Thorpe, Peggy Williams, Barry Lubin, Frosty Little, Jimmy Tinsman, Jim Howle, Tim Doody, Dougie Ashton, Steve Laporte, Lenny Wholen, Serf Rocha, Jimmy Briscoe, Ruthie Chaddock, Richard Mann, Dale Longmire,Ron Jarvis,Mark Buthman,and a host of others (Mitch, please help me fill in the blanks), and, of course, Jonathan “Mitch” Freddes.</span></pre><pre style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: 16px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; background-image: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); white-space: pre-wrap; background-position: initial initial; font-family:Arial, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Oh how I wish my father had had a decent camera to capture those moments, but in the spiritual realm where I was dwelling that day, no technological device could come close to capturing the moments I lived and breathed that day. I sat beside Papa Lou’s trunk and played with Pee Wee and Knucklehead. I watched Lou prepare for the hunting gag, his walk around, and other spots in the show. I was fascinated by the seemingly effortless way he went about his two show day routine. He was a master at conserving his energy for a long day at the office, where he held court like no other. Going into this, I had just enough knowledge to be dangerous that day…very dangerous. Mitch was the epitome of a “diplomat.” When I showed up with my own idea of how to apply make up, my own gag neck tie rigged with a coat hanger, and a costume that a “yom” would’ve looked down their nose at, Mitch just said, ok, let’s get you made up. Mitch taught me proper make up application technique with just the right amount of grace and poise. I was a stubborn kid. He busted my chops a bit, but cut me just enough slack to calm my nerves and shaking hands to get me ready for and through this experience that helped chart the course of my life as a clown. I eventually made it to Clown College in 1978. After graduation, I got called up into that big office, up the stairs and to the right, the one with the big windows that overlooked the arena floor of the old Winter Quarters in Venice, Florida… and was offered a contract by Mr. Irvin Feld to perform with Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus. Four words… Where do I </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">sign? </span></pre><pre style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: 16px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; background-image: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); white-space: pre-wrap; background-position: initial initial; font-family:Arial, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> - Jeff Darnell -</span></pre><pre face="Arial, sans-serif" size="13px" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: 16px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; background-image: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); white-space: pre-wrap; background-position: initial initial; "></pre><pre style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: 16px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; background-image: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">On this day 35 years ago I first met Jeff.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic; font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">He went on to actually go onto the Blue show in 1979. After his tenure on the show Jeff was asked to continue as an advance clown for both units of "The Greatest Show on Earth." Traveling across the country ahead of the show. Spreading joy with every mile.</span></span></pre><pre style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: 16px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; background-image: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> He couldn't have made me more proud. What a good feeling to know that you helped someone live out their dream. Thank you Jeff for having that dream! </span></span></pre><pre face="Arial, sans-serif" size="13px" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: 16px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; background-image: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); white-space: pre-wrap; background-position: initial initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:20px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></pre><pre face="Arial, sans-serif" size="13px" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: 16px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; background-image: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); white-space: pre-wrap; background-position: initial initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> </span></pre></span></div>Jonathan Mitch Freddeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00391796062153387543noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937781668988736097.post-86474947509587562132010-02-07T07:49:00.008-06:002010-02-07T15:53:30.426-06:00Mr. Irvin Feld<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFIOxKcUpVBfJNIdirEKigYocxj2Hz4j2qqwTwx2MNqB67YVBrjIUbZgSaQIoGSZUa8hJ7upJ2aXQXEQPNwHuIffDVPWIuifXGAAMBi72BqWHDvaReMnk3d_Ahejcfou38QyFqKpvM5b_P/s1600-h/irvin.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 358px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFIOxKcUpVBfJNIdirEKigYocxj2Hz4j2qqwTwx2MNqB67YVBrjIUbZgSaQIoGSZUa8hJ7upJ2aXQXEQPNwHuIffDVPWIuifXGAAMBi72BqWHDvaReMnk3d_Ahejcfou38QyFqKpvM5b_P/s400/irvin.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435513911158170898" /></a><br /> Irvin Feld loved the circus and what it stood for. To him it was true Americana. I remember his excitement as he told me about the Bicentennial show, telling me what a better way to celebrate America than with "The Greatest Show on Earth" He was a true example of someone who had achieved the American dream. He expressed this constantly through his actions. He was always proud to tell you how next years new show would always be "Bigger and Better." And it always was. His heart and soul were in the circus.<div> </div><div> </div><div> As I child from an immigrant family he always dreamed of someday owning "The Greatest Show on Earth" He got his chance in 1967 when he was able to purchase Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus. </div><div> </div><div>Always a true showman he had the papers signed over by John Ringling North in the Roman Colliseum. The home of the worlds original circus. He went so far as to ship some elephants and tigers over there to get that all important photo op.<div> </div><div> </div><div> He understood the importance of the clowns role in the circus, and really loved to laugh at them. Hence, the creation Clown College. He felt it was an art form that needed to continue. Who better to teach this very important role but the Masters. He had them all so why not?</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> When he would visit he'd walk backstage and greet everyone with a smile and a friendly "hello." Even down to the the lowest working man. It didn't matter to him. You were one of his people. And what a memory he had! He knew everyones name and even what color socks they wore! </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> Mr. Feld was a shrewd business man when it came to contracts. You didn't always get a raise but, instead you might get a larger room on the train or, he might give you a better role in next years show. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> Not to say you didn't get raises because we did get them. Most of this was controlled by the union at the time. Even so, I was able to get a few over the years, above and beyond the union scale. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> He took an interest in all aspects of the show. During rehearsals you might see him walking around the track or, standing at the window of his office in the top of the arena. Watching every thing carefully . Every once in a while if he saw you practicing he might stop and offer you a suggestion. He always wanted the best for his show. <br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> His other love was children. He knew they were the future. The children on the show were always showcased somewhere within the show. Even the ones who didn't perform. </div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div> Every show about 15 children from the audience would be randomly selected to ride a float in the Spec. This was the big number just before intermission. And two of them would get to be part of the actual production.</div><div><br /></div><div> Over the years I took care of a lot of children, helping them board the floats with big smiles on their faces. It was the clowns job to make sure all of them got in and out safely. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> The other thing he implemented was a program where you could write in and get a free ticket for your newborn child. It was good for one time during their lifetime. Many years later, a lady around 21 years old came to me and told me how she was able to come to that show free because of one of these tickets. He felt every child should have the opportunity to see the circus. At least once in their lifetime</div><div> </div><div> He was very a compassionate man. When my mother lost her eyesight and would come to the show in Winter Quarters he would personally escort her back to the elephants and other animals and let her pet them. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> One day in Denver he called me in his office. They had come to do the contracts for the following year. He asked if I could get my mothers medical records. He wanted to send them to his eye doctors who were the best in the world to see if they might be able to do something for her. I got the records and gave them to him. Unfortunately, the report came back that there was nothing they could do. </div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div> Years later we started doing backstage tours for the blind and the clowns were in charge of it. We even had braille programs ! A wonderful man who made dreams come to life..... </div></div>Jonathan Mitch Freddeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00391796062153387543noreply@blogger.com1