Vacation Vintage Continued

[Here's another traumatic story, although at least this one wasn't of my own making.  Tomorrow, we'll move into adulthood and see how growing up hasn't changed my propensity toward self-humiliation much.]

When I was in first or second grade, my mom took my brother and me to the circus.  It was the whole three-ring RIngling Bros. extravaganza at the Omni in Atlanta.  I wasn't super into the circus (I preferred the ballet); but I remember getting to eat cotton candy and popcorn, which was amusing in its own feeble way.   

About halfway through the Greatest Show on Earth, a woman came out to perform her amazing feat, which consisted of being hoisted by her hair (!) about 50 feet above the ground -- with no net -- and then flinging her body around, twirling and doing trapeze-like maneuvers in midair, held in suspension only by her hair and a long wire. 

I am powerless to speculate how one comes to know that they have such a talent, but there it was.  She wore a green spangly leotard and performed to some kind of early 80s pop instrumental.  To this day, I can't figure out how she attached her hair to the wire (a giant, extra-strength scrunchie, perhaps?). 

The rest of the rings were darkened for this, the magnum opus of the circus.  With the spotlight trained on her, the woman was hoisted into position.  She started her routine, spinning wildly and doing leg and arm flourishes and generally making larger and larger concentric circles as she rotated.  The music reached a triumphant climax, and the woman went flying through the air at top speed.  The audience, for a brief moment, believed this was her dismount.  Everyone prepared to reward her efforts with wild applause.  Except that she didn't land on her feet -- ta da! -- but instead hit the ground at an astonishing velocity and crumpled to a heap. 

The audience sat in silent horror.  Some performers who were watching from the side of the ring ran over to her and huddled over her motionless body.  The spotlight winked off, ashamed to illuminate this disturbing spectacle, as the audience began to murmur their shock and disbelief. 

My mom sat stunned for a while, unable to believe that she had unwittingly brought her young, impressionable children into this grave display of human fragility.  Suddenly, the spotlight blazed again, this time tracking the movement of about twenty clowns, who came rollicking into the ring, doing clown things in an attempt to distract and appease the traumatized audience. 

"Look at the clowns!" my mom urged, somewhat desperately.  She pointed at the clowns and feigned enthusiasm for their strenuous efforts at levity.  "Look...look at the clowns!"

My brother and I stared in the general direction of the clowns, but our eyes were inevitably drawn back to the fallen Hair Twirler, who was by then being strapped to a stretcher and wheeled out of the ring.  Her husband, a high wire artist, hurried alongside her, his hand gripping her limp fingers as he whispered comforting things into her ear.  She didn't move once.

When I was in first or second grade, my mom took my brother and me to the circus.  It was the whole three-ring RIngling Bros. extravaganza at the Omni in Atlanta.  I wasn't super into the circus (I preferred the ballet); but I remember getting to eat cotton candy and popcorn, which was amusing in its own feeble way.   

About halfway through the Greatest Show on Earth, a woman came out to perform her amazing feat, which consisted of being hoisted by her hair (!) about 50 feet above the ground -- with no net -- and then flinging her body around, twirling and doing trapeze-like maneuvers in midair, held in suspension only by her hair and a long wire. 

I am powerless to speculate how one comes to know that they have such a talent, but there it was.  She wore a green spangly leotard and performed to some kind of early 80s pop instrumental.  To this day, I can't figure out how she attached her hair to the wire (a giant, extra-strength scrunchie, perhaps?). 

The rest of the rings were darkened for this, the magnum opus of the circus.  With the spotlight trained on her, the woman was hoisted into position.  She started her routine, spinning wildly and doing leg and arm flourishes and generally making larger and larger concentric circles as she rotated.  The music reached a triumphant climax, and the woman went flying through the air at top speed.  The audience, for a brief moment, believed this was her dismount.  Everyone prepared to reward her efforts with wild applause.  Except that she didn't land on her feet -- ta da! -- but instead hit the ground at an astonishing velocity and crumpled to a heap. 

The audience sat in silent horror.  Some performers who were watching from the side of the ring ran over to her and huddled over her motionless body.  The spotlight winked off, ashamed to illuminate this disturbing spectacle, as the audience began to murmur their shock and disbelief. 

My mom sat stunned for a while, unable to believe that she had unwittingly brought her young, impressionable children into this grave display of human fragility.  Suddenly, the spotlight blazed again, this time tracking the movement of about twenty clowns, who came rollicking into the ring, doing clown things in an attempt to distract and appease the traumatized audience. 

"Look at the clowns!" my mom urged, somewhat desperately.  She pointed at the clowns and feigned enthusiasm for their strenuous efforts at levity.  "Look...look at the clowns!"

My brother and I stared in the general direction of the clowns, but our eyes were inevitably drawn back to the fallen Hair Twirler, who was by then being strapped to a stretcher and wheeled out of the ring.  Her husband, a high wire artist, hurried alongside her, his hand gripping her limp fingers as he whispered comforting things into her ear.  She didn't move once.

Comments

[hnrjmpr]

Jesus, that's awful. Do you think she was dead?

[Jonniker]

This is basically the most traumatic thing I can imagine and OH MY GOD, the trauma. Seriously.

[amyjami]

HFS!!!! so did you ever find out what happened to her?!?!!?!?!

i would have had nightmares for weeks!

[CraigNY]

Lawyerly's brother, here, with an update:

Amazingly, the woman apparently survived (although I question whether she resumed her odd occupation). We had gone to the circus on a Saturday and the next day I remember somewhat frantically paging through Atlanta's Sunday paper to see if there was anything in there on the horrific event we had witnessed (in my 11-year-old mind, an incident of this magnitude should have been front page news in 40 point type -- after all, we MIGHT HAVE SEEN SOMEONE DIE...IN PERSON!!). Surprisingly (in hind sight), the Atlanta Journal-Constitution reported on the circus debacle, stating that the woman was "in serious condition" but was expected to pull through. Still, I never attended another circus as a child.