When I was eleven years old, the Circus came to our town. A few days before it arrived, color posters started to appear on the numerous wooden telephone poles around the city. They depicted happy and sad clowns, lion tamers, trapeze artists and beautiful women riding horses bareback. However, the thing that caught my eye was the banner on the bottom of the poster. Elephant rides! I had always been enamored with elephants. I don’t know exactly why. Maybe it was their size or the fear that everyone seemed to exhibit when they came close to the huge beasts. I supposed I was just like everyone else, afraid of getting too close, but drawn to their uniqueness. Now, here was my chance to ride one.
I told all my buddies at the ball diamond that I was going to ride an elephant when the Circus got to town. But, I didn’t dare tell my Mom what I had in mind because at eleven she wasn’t aware of the man I had grown to be, she still saw me as, well, eleven.
Back in those days the Circus came to town by coming right down the middle of the street in a Parade announcing it’s arrival. A police escort with flashers ablaze and sirens blaring brought us out of the house and out to the street curb. There it was, in all it’s glory. Clowns passing out candy, a calliope belching out music, lions pacing in a cage and beautiful women riding ornately decorated white stallions. It was enough to make you want to run out into the street and join the fun. Which I tried, but my Mom anticipating that move grabbed me by the belt and ended my opportunity to join in. She assured me that we would attend the festivities on Saturday night. I couldn’t wait for the weekend. I kept my plans to ride the elephant a secret. When Saturday arrived I could barely contain my excitement. I had gathered up every last cent that I had and was patiently waiting for my buddy to arrive so we could get going. I counted all my change again just to be sure I knew how much I had. Counting pennies I had amassed $5.06. That was the sum total of my liquidity at eleven years old and I was going to blow it all on riding my childhood fascination. The time came and my buddy and my brother and his buddy loaded into the backseat of the car and we headed for the fairgrounds on the south side of town. When we arrived my buddy and I were allowed to go roaming on our own but were instructed to return to the main gate in 30 minutes so we could all sit together in the Big Tent for the show. I headed straight for the elephant ride. My heart was pounding as I was about to fulfill a life long dream. Soon we arrived at the sign indicating where the Elephant was waiting for people to be boosted up by the trainer. The sign said elephant rides $10.00. My heart sank, I turned to my buddy, he knew what the problem was and he couldn’t help. He only had 2 bucks and he was holding onto that for cotton candy. There I was about to fulfill a life long dream and I was not able to fund the journey. So with failure in my heart but adventure on my mind we slipped around the folks standing in line and got up to the side area that was roped off for watchers. There he was, this magnificent animal that I had been dreaming about all week and a guy from my school, that was a couple of years older, was up on the elephant’s shoulders. My friend looked like a guy who had just climbed Mount Everest. He had a smile on his face wide enough to be seen from the next county. He was in a word, Proud. I ran into him at the baseball diamond the following week and tried to ask him how it felt. All he could say, with this big wide smile on his face, was “I got to Ride the Elephant”.
I never did get to ride an elephant but years later while in college I ran across a term describing a thrill of a lifetime. It was a description of owning the moment, making it yours, taming your destiny and putting your stamp on it. He said at the end of his life ” I got to ride the elephant”. He had accomplished what he wanted and he did it his way.
An old friend and Mentor of mine was buried today and I want his kids to know. He Got to Ride the Elephant.
