Posted on 07/20/2024 8:45:32 AM PDT by OneVike
From time to time I reach back into my memory bank and write about my past. This one was a memory that I have been wanting to share for years, and I finally put my memory to type.
Everyone has memories they cherish from times when they were growing up. I have many memories, but none of them are as memorable as the ones I have of the Summer of “73”. That Summer holds some of the most cherished memories of my teen years. Yet it also includes memories of doing things that would lead to more bad behavior in my life. It was a time in my life when I was between being a boy, and wanting so desperately to be a man. I did some stupid things that Summer. The overall culture of a carnival life is one of drugs, alcohol and sex. While I did do some drugs, and yes I engaged in some sex, most of what happened to me that Summer was tame in comparison to what it could have been like if it were not for a certain woman named Mary, who treated me like the son she never had.
In a screwed up family with eight children I was the youngest. Raising eight children from a man who went to prison wasn't an easy task for my Mom. The eldest pretty much raised the younger ones, because Mom had to work to provide us food and shelter. While she did remarry, our stepfather would often drink and gamble his paycheck away before he even got home on payday. I was seven when my father went to prison, and by the time I was sixteen in 1973, I was the only one still living at home. I was to the point in my head, that the last thing I wanted to do was attend any more classes.
When Mom found out I dropped out, she was mad, but she was also tired of fighting. So she took me down to the Army recruiting center to see if they would sign me up. There was no way they were signing up some scrawny kid who barely turned 16 a few months earlier. So my Mom gave me the ultimatum. I was told to either get a job or go back to school.
I was in luck, because the father of the girl I was dating owned a lumber yard, "Anderson Lumber." So I started working for Arne Anderson. Most of it was manual labor, but I did have a chance to learn how to operate a forklift. It was less than a Month later that me and his daughTer, Dawn, broke up. The next day I went to work and I was handed a paycheck and told I was fired. There are some fairly interesting aspects to that whole situation that I may write about some day, but for now I'll leave it at that.
Shortly after being fired, I met a girl named Mandy who's family had come up from Southern Minnesota to spend the week with her cousin's family, which lived next door. Her aunt was getting married, so I ended up being invited to the wedding, which allowed us to get better acquainted. We hung out all week and really got to like each other. Turns out her father took a liking to me.
After the wedding, as they were getting ready to head home, her father asked if I was interested in a job for the Summer, working on his farm. He even told me I could stay with them. I accepted the offer, and was told he would come and pick me up in a few weeks. A few days later, My brother got me a job working on the carnival with him.
When the carnival ended, and I helped them pack things up, I figured I would be heading South in about a week to work on the farm. That's when the owner of the game I worked on, Mary Lou Zeicheck, approached me and told me she liked the way I worked. She then asked if I would like to travel with them. There I was, a 16 year old boy with a choice to either go down South and work on a farm for the Summer, or travel around the country working on a carnival. It took a whole 5 seconds for me to consider my choices, when I blurted out, “You betcha”. I still had that strong Midwest accent that the movie Fargo made fun of. Mary told me that I would need my Mom's approval and that she would have signed legal custody of me over to her. The reason was the Carnival was heading to Canada, so crossing an international border meant paperwork.
I remember approaching my Mom with the idea, thinking there is no way she would sign legal custody of me over to a total stranger. After all, carnivals had a bad reputation, and signing the papers meant that Mary and Lou would become my legal guardians. At the time I figured my best bet was spending the Summer working on the farm for Mandy's father. You can imagine my surprise when I learned my Mom couldn't wait to sign the papers for Lou and Mary Zeicheck to gain custody of me. The next few days were a whirlwind as my Mom packed my bags, put me in the car, drove me to the carnival, and kissed me goodbye. I was going to spend the Summer traveling around Canada and the USA as a Barker for a game called the, “Crazy Ball”.
(Excerpt) Read more at TRFMF.com ...
good story. i read it.
Well, I havd read the first part and will go to the source for the rest. Having been in both a Showman and a vendor on the lot for some 30 odd years, there is a certain magic of the lot.
Personally, I am a vendor before a showman but for severeal brief years I ran and operated America’s Smallest traveling Museum—thus became a showman. Had a Grind Tape running constantly to develop the tip.
“See The Strange Thing—The Strangest Thing You Will Ever See—This Exhibit is Scientifically Designed to Create A Mental Image You WIll Never Forget-—”
All right—back to the rest of the story on page two...
Thanks. Love your story...why does it feel familiar - as does the picture??? Watched “Fried Green Tomatoes” last night and there was a street scene similar to your picture, I think. Have to admit at that late hour, things are pretty fuzzy the next day.
Regards,
Reminded me of “Toby Tyler: Or Ten Weeks With a Circus”
I’d add notes about the summer of ‘69 if I remembered any.
I struggled with how much to share, since my web site is a Christian based one. Many time one can get into telling a story of their past and be tempted by past memories.
I have many things I could share, and some I may at some time since I am considering a book on that Summer.
I could have added the fire started by locals in Butte MT after some ride Jockeys messed with the wrong local girls, or the time in Saskatchewan when I was seeing this girl who worked for a local vendor who has a food tent. He told me that he would rather I get with his daughter since he had to protect the girl I liked not being his daughter He literally suggested I get laid by his daughter instead.
Or the time we had a week in Okl;ahom,a City before the state fair started and so my brother took e with his friend ans we spent a few days in a Motel room checking out the city. They turned me onto acid and I fell a sleep.
To this day he shakes his head at me as if I am weird. Who falls asleep on acid. Well, I am hyper and thus speed reacts negatively on me and the acid had speed in it. Something learned much later,.
At night we slept in the game areas by pulling down the tarps and just slept on the table game tables. One night I barely got this gal out before her father found us. That was in Birmingham.
Or the first image in my head of thou=sands of black people at night. I am from Duluth MN, maybe 5 blacks in the whole city back then, but that night in Birmingham all I saw was eyeballs and teeth.
Some may have been insulted with some of these descriptions which are true. I have many more I would put in a book.
Interesting, would love to see it.
To be honest, this many years later I tried to find old pics, but couldn’t so I just grabbed an image from inline of a carnival scene. No sure what the town is, but the image looked similar to what I remember our carnival looked like in smaller towns were we set up in parking lots near Malls.
At first I thought it was about a ham radio operator. “73”.
Never watched it. But looking at the trailer I may look it up to watch.
Awwe, “69”. I remember in 69 when I was 13. I have a story of walking home 25 miles because I missed the bus. My whole family had gone to my older sisters wedding and I was left behind. I got home about the same time as they did. The trip home for me and my buddy was quite a journey.
Duluth is like 50 mile long and maybe 10 miles wide. The movie house was downtown, and we lived at the end of town across the river from Fondulac Wisc.
I worked summers and fall at an amusement park 79-81. Lots of great stories but we were all about the same age.
If you want to expand it into novel-length, you must first decide: WHAT MESSAGE DO I WANT TO CONVEY?
Will it be the story of your religious awakening? Did some incident that summer later influence / contribute to your becoming religious? Or do the stories at least serve as a warning to live a clean and upstanding life?
Would those stories be of interest to anyone outside your religious faith?
As I already indicated, I (like, I think, a great many of your potential readers) would like to learn more about the "Carnie life" (that's why we'd be reading a book about travelling with the carnival, right?).
If the book contained a lot of interesting characters unlike "regular folk," that would motivate people to buy it. If, in contrast, the characters were just like "regular folk" (sometimes venal, unreliable, irresponsible, etc.) and had no other unique (Carnie-specific) features, the book would be boring.
My advice: Include lots of Carnie lingo (explain the interesting history of certain words), include colorful characters (the Tattooed Lady, the Geek, etc.), and go into greater detail (the linked story would be considered the right length for an 8th-grade composition, but for the work of an adult, it looks more like a "treatment" or a "summary").
Regards,
Oh and I agree.
If I wrote t, it would be written in a way that would reflect my mindset of the time, while reminding the reader I was young and like most youngsters my future was not in my head, although the time did effect me in a way I can now look bak and understand.
For religious Christian awakening purposes, would leave that for my commentaries.
I lived in Duluth for 1980 to 1998
Last time I was there was 1983.
Haven’t been back since
Oh, the summer of ‘68. I was a 17-year old roughneck working on drilling rigs in California and Utah. Like Ness, I was junior to everyone. I learned the ropes, had fun, and was not irrepairably damaged.
The experience made college seem easy - what? Just 16 hrs of classes and a little bit of homework? No problem.
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