They’re back. My first exposure to David Waller’s collection of circus sideshow banners was when they appeared as set dressing at The Signmaker’s Circus held to celebrate the American Sign Museum‘s tenth year at its Camp Washington location. That was in 2022. The circus occupied the unfinished half of the building and might be considered a step toward the expansion of the museum into that space, which would be revealed just about two years later (New Stuff to Look At). The banners and the multiple tons of signs hung for the circus were always intended to be temporary. However, some of the signs and all of the banners were still there a few months later when the banners’ owner delivered a presentation on them, which I covered as Sideshow Signage.
Although the number of circus acts at Thursday’s opening of the Freaks & Sideshows exhibit was considerably reduced from the over-the-top extravaganza that was The Signmaker’s Circus, their presence was still felt. They definitely enhanced the circusy feel of the event.
That circus tone was also present in the refreshments. I had a nice chat with the Cincinnati Cotton Candy lady and made her aware of my teenage experience making snow cones at the county fair, in case she ever wants to branch out. I don’t know that The 1936 North American Heat Wave’s music was all that circusy, but it certainly matched the time period of the early banners on display. I’d never heard of the band or the weather event it is named after, so I was simultaneously handed two tangents to head off on.
Of course, for the banners, the biggest difference between this exhibit and The Signmaker’s Circus is that they are no longer just decorations hanging in the background. Here they are the stars, with good lighting and informative panels. The Elephant Boy banner in the first picture is the oldest in the exhibit. It is from the 1920s.
Most of the banners on display were also on display in 2022. That includes what might be my favorite single banner, Spider Girl. A nearby panel explains that a woman whose face was the only thing visible operated the not-exactly-alive arachnid body with hidden strings. I think I like the winged creature in the background nearly as much as I like Spider Girl herself.
The last row of the exhibition is tagged “Problematic Alley”. The Garrotte banner is part of a series showing scenes of torture. Some were associated with live actors, but sometimes just the depiction was shocking enough. “Half and half” acts like that shown in the Sex Change banner employed actors displaying both male and female characteristics.
Although not every “half and half” actor was truly gender non-binary, many were, and the circus provided a paycheck that might be difficult to obtain elsewhere. Likewise, many sideshow “freaks” were disabled individuals making a living through their handicap at a time when social services were nearly non-existent. In connection with the Freaks and Sideshows exhibit, on August 27 the museum is hosting a presentation (Beyond the Banners: A look at how the circus impacted the disability community) by Jason Harris that will examine both the exploitation and the opportunity connected with the circus.
An August 20 presentation (Collector Talk: Dave Waller) by the owner of these banners is obviously tightly tied to the exhibit. Full Circle: The Golden Era, Decline and Renaissance of the American Carousel isn’t as tightly tied to the circus, but it clearly shares its spirit. It’s August 3.
Freaks & Sideshows runs through October 4.
I was aware of this book when it was published, and I was interested in reading it. But not so interested, it seems, to actually order it. My interest in the book came from a general interest in early aviation history that anyone growing up in the land of Wilbur and Orville, as I did, should come by naturally. The lack of urgency came from the fact that its proclaimed subject was an airport in another state. It was a nearby state, but it wasn’t my state. It took a visit by the authors to a nearer and more familiar airport to finally put a copy in my hands.
I really was not surprised that Morris and Butkos begin their story long before there were any such things as airports or even airplanes. They do it with a Pittsburgh twist, of course, and tell about early inventors and adventurers connected to the city. I got a chuckle from a quote they share about a 1897 flight by Professor Carl E. Myers and his skycycle. The skycycle appears to be a balloon with a seat and pedals suspended below it. As reported by The Pittsburgh Press, it did fly and eventually floated out of sight while “The professor, if he had any control over the skycycle, did not exercise it.”
Of course, skycycles and other “Fanciful Fliers” fell out of favor once airplanes came along, and particularly after they were proven practical in World War I. Morris and Butko share the stories of several Pittsburghers involved in wartime aviation and the barnstorming that war-surplus aircraft gave rise to after the hostilities ended. It was a group of Pittsburgh barnstormers that gave birth to the airport that would be named Bettis Field in 1926. One of them, Clifford Ball, provided a slogan that would eventually be modified for a different field and some different dreams: “Build the nests and the birds will come.”
Also in 1926, Ball sold his interest in the airport to form Skyline Transportation to pursue a government airmail contract. He did get the contract and purchased three airplanes to service it. Here’s where that WACO connection mentioned earlier comes in. The three planes were WACOs named Miss Pittsburgh, Miss McKeesport, and Miss Youngstown. Miss Youngstown was destroyed in a wreck; Miss Pittsburgh hangs at the Pittsburgh Airport; and Miss McKeesport is in the WACO Museum, parked behind Sue and Brian in the photograph above. There is another view, sans authors, 
Morris and Butko have uncovered and included an impressive number of stories about people and events connected with Bettis Airfield. It was one of the stops on Charles Lindbergh’s tour following his cross-Atlantic flight, but the Spirit of Saint Louis had to be slid sideways into a hangar because its wings were wider than the door. Quite a few black pilots trained at Bettis, but for a period, had to go to another state to be licensed because the designated federal inspector simply refused to pass them. A fairly large number of female pilots, some of whom were rather famous, were associated with Bettis. Passengers were sometimes flown on airmail flights, sitting on bags of mail; then, in 1929, real passenger service — with seats — was added.
