I have been in a blue funk ever since hearing about the closure of an iconic childhood event.
Every September circa the late 1950s, the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus rolled into Portland. It came by rail. The huge tents were set up in Northeast Portland on vacant city lots. (That property was owned by the Lloyd family and was finally developed into one of the first shopping malls in the West.)
My aunt, uncle, mother, daddy and I visited annually. We saw wonderful acts — clowns, lion tamers, elephants dancing with beautiful showgirls riding on them. Then there were the flying trapeze artists doing those remarkable feats so high above the ground.
The circus band played while attendees walked around trying to locate their seats, and a clown named Emmett Kelly was in the midst of all these people doing his funny stuff. Mother, Daddy and I had already found our seats and were enjoying the impromptu show. We spied Auntie and Uncle walking side-by-side looking for their seats and talking. Uncle stopped to scan the seats while Auntie continued walking, oblivious to the fact that he was no longer at her side.
