When the circus ringmaster wails, “...and children of all ages,” he is speaking to me. I love the circus. When it came to my rural hometown when I was a boy, it was an all-consuming experience that embedded “circus” in my heart before it appeared and well beyond its departure.

Long before the circus train arrived, Ringling Bros. sent front men to my town to put stirring signs on telephone poles, place exciting ads in the local newspaper, and provide captivating materials for teachers to use in imparting lessons on circus animals. We watched men with large muscles and hammers put up the giant tent. The wild animals were paraded down Main Street. By the time the ticket booth opened, schools closed and businesses shut down so all could go to the circus! The whole town sat amazed at the funny clowns, thrilling trapeze artists, and clever acts cavalcading under the big top. Outside there were fearless men, without shirts, swallowing knives and daredevil motorcycles racing around a small cage. 

But, the experience didn’t end with the departure of the pretty lady riding on top of the jeweled elephant. We all took home a colorful souvenir that gave us a perpetual memory of that special experience. We wore a grin for days, and “circus” dominated our conversations in the school hallways and got reenacted on the playground.

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