Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus, 1924

Home , Abomination (character), Barnum (musical), John Ringling, Leader (character)

“Be cautious and bold … there’s a sucker born every minute.” —P.T. Barnum

Dear Delegates,

Hello and welcome to WUMUNS 2018! My name is Miranda Reed Twiss and I am thrilled to be your committee director for the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey majoring in Psychology and Islamic Studies with a minor in Arabic. As a former circus performer who almost went pro (I went to circus camp for a few summers in middle school), I’m extremely excited to kick off our very first circus committee! The committee begins in September of 1924. You are all members of the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Combined Shows circus troupe, and you as a committee have full control over the circus. As both performers and administrators of the troupe, you are taxed with working together to make your traveling circus troupe as successful as possible. Your collective goal is to keep your circus running and successful and to increase profits both as a whole and individually. From traveling choices to split loyalties, from questionable motives to financial managing, the challenges you face stand to be a real three-ring circus. If you navigate the politics and inner workings of circus life well, you will find yourselves rich and powerful. If you fall into disarray, you could lose your jobs and your futures. Every delegate in the committee has equal voting power but varying access to individual resources, including money, outside connections, and specific abilities within the circus. Note that this is the circus, a business built around big personalities; ability to portray a character both in interests and in personality will be a key component to success in this committee. That being said, please remember that while the 1920s was a period of great social and political upheaval we expect all delegates to act with a certain decorum at WUMUNS. Get engaged and immersed in the spirit of the time, but do not advocate racial, religious, or gender discrimination. Disrespectful behavior towards other delegates or social groups will not be tolerated. Again, I am so thrilled to share this experience with you all. With a bit of luck and your hard work through preparation, this truly will be a weekend to remember. Please feel free to reach out to me with any questions or concerns about the committee. Good luck preparing, and I look forward to seeing you all at WUMUNS 2018!

Mira Reed Twiss [email protected]

Contents

Committee Mandate……………….…………..……………………… 5

Historical Background…….……………………………...…………. 6 The Early Days of the Circus Industry………………………….……. 6 The Ringlings and the Golden Age of Circus….………………….. 7 Social and Political Issues 1920’s……………………………….…….. 8 Technological Innovation….…….…….…….…………………...... …. 9

Topic A: Circus Management and Competitive Strategy………………………………………………..……………………… 11 Topic B: Internal Tensions………...... 11 Topic C: Profitability………..………………………………………… 12

Delegate Positions………………………………………………………. 12

Committee Mandate

A plaque nailed to the center main pole in the performer’s tent reads as follows:

THE CIRCUS CODE, as Dictated by PHINEAS TAYLOR BARNUM in the Year 1872

1. As a member of this troupe, I swear to work for and safeguard the collective benefit of all members of this organization as if they were my own blood and kin.

2. As a member of this troupe, I swear to carry merriment and wonder to whatever city, village, or town I currently call home.

3. As a member of this troupe, I swear to further the financial, moral, and spiritual survival of the circus in my daily and professional life.

4. As a member of this troupe, I swear to heed and obey the mandates of my superiors while granting every possible courtesy and kindness to those working under my supervision.

5. As a member of this troupe, I swear upon my undying soul my affirmed loyalty to this organization and my contempt for rival organizations and for detestable ideologies that tempt and beguile the sanctity of my moral character.

AS A PERFORMRER, AN ARTIST, AND AN AMERICAN I REAFFIRM MY DEDICATION TO THE POINTS ENUMERATED ABOVE, SO HELP ME GOD.

Historical Background The Early In 1768, London entrepreneur Philip Astley created the very first circus. Types of entertainment, including acrobatics, juggling, and comedic clowning, Days of the that had once been sperate spectacles became one show. The popularity of this Circus Industry novel entertainment format grew rapidly, inspiring competing circuses within a few years. Soon, circus troupes dotted the British countryside. This competition and the general novelty of the circus format mandated that circuses be crucibles of innovation. Performers regularly worked to refine and master their arts while administrators hunted for the next big selling point or ways to cut costs. Within a few decades, the circus model was honed and mastered, and profits were soaring. A quarter century after Astley’s innovation, the concept spread to the United States. Philadelphia was the first American city to raise the big top, capturing American hearts and imaginations in a way that had never been done before. Animal roles in the modern circus began in 1806 when a farmer named Hachaliah Bailey began to tour the East Coast of the United States with an African elephant. As many American farmers and townsfolk had heard only rumors of such an animal, many were willing to shell out a pretty penny to see the exotic beast. Bailey’s success sparked the trend of animal exhibitions, but it wasn’t until the twentieth century that animals were combined with the performance arts of Astley’s circus concept. In the circus’s full form, spectators could expect to see everything from synchronized pony shows to dancing elephants to intrepid beast-masters who went head-to-head with and subdued vicious lions and tigers. Around the same time the animal act was becoming a staple, the idea of a traveling circus with its signature circus tent entered the scene. Circuses would perform in a new town every few days, traveling at night to maintain intrigue around their shows and sending envoys ahead to spread excitement for their next show. Ticket sales boomed when a troupe first set up shop in a city but faltered as the excitement of such a spectacular show wore off. Such diminishing patterns in revenue could be offset by advertising efforts but generally demanded regular relocation. Regular relocation required the use of mobile furnishings, so tents of treated colorful canvas supported by massive wooden poles became the preferred material for the main act and for sideshow attractions. Packing up and deploying the circus enterprise in less than twenty-four hours required extreme logistical competence. Most circus troupes employed as many as two or three times as many engineers, riggers, and handlers for background logistics than they employed actual performers. Hachaliah Bailey’s adopted nephew, James A. Bailey, managed logistics in one such traveling troupe in the 1860s. His success

6 eventually earned him the status of partner and his last name was incorporated in the title of the show: Cooper, Bailey and Co.’s Circus. In 1871, P. T. Barnum added his name (and money) to the circus industry. A well-known Connecticut businessman and politician, Barnum embodied many of the archetypal elements of circus culture. He was a boisterous man of great enthusiasm and more than occasional hyperbole but a fantastic salesman and entertainer. A staunch supporter of the Thirteenth Amendment, Barnum ignited a wave of inclusivity in circus culture that opened his and rival companies to a greater diversity of performers from around the country and the world. Yet Barnum’s influence was also rather dogmatic. Loyalty to the circus company became an expectation. Older performers and employees of the company still whisper of the days when Barnum would regularly fire and blacklist troupe members for offenses ranging from letting travel plans slip to consorting with unsavory political groups. These expectations were the foundation of an exceptionally managed troupe. Barnum expected excellence, and excellence is what he achieved. Within years of his initial investment in an existing circus, Barnum had bought out his partner for full ownership and had begun traveling the eastern United States. Growth was rapid. A small troupe of acrobats and clowns blossomed into a show that featured numerous skilled performers, an animal menagerie, and a “museum of freaks.” Soon, Barnum began to view Bailey’s circus as a serious competitor, and he reached out to suggest a merging of the two shows. After a few weeks of negotiations and bid offers, Barnum & Bailey’s Greatest Show on Earth was born.

The Ringlings While the Barnum & Bailey company was achieving great success, five and the Golden brothers in Wisconsin decided to start their own circus. The Ringling Brothers Circus began traveling in 1884. Their show was a hit, and the momentum of Age of Circus success enabled expansion of the company’s traveling range. Because Barnum & Bailey’s ruthlessly efficient company still dominated New England, the Ringlings focused their efforts on Midwestern cities. Due to a circuit that ranged from Cincinnati to the Rocky Mountains and from Detroit to New Orleans, the Ringling name was soon known throughout the heartland. P. T. Barnum died in 1891, but Bailey kept their circus alive and well. But when Bailey went to tour around Europe in 1897, the Ringling Brothers seized filled the gap Bailey left, gaining even more ground in the United States. By the time of James Bailey’s death in 1906, the Ringling Brothers circus equaled the Barnum and Bailey company in size, range, and profit. In 1907, the Ringling Brothers purchased the Greatest Show on Earth. The two circuses were kept separate for a while, but it became increasingly difficult to manage two shows so large and successful. In 1919, the shows merged, forming one of the most powerful and efficient circus troupes in history: Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Combined Shows.

7 Circuses rode the crest of the entertainment industries’ boom that followed the First World War. Wartime local governments restricted and condemned the spending on the luxury entertainment; some mayors and city councils were outright hostile to their circus guests. But when the war ended, many towns changed their tune. America, largely unscathed, experienced an economic surge. People sought to forget the war and spend the money in their pockets. Circus officials capitalized on this opportunity by increasing advertising efforts and investing in logistical capabilities. By hiring additional technicians and purchasing and operating dedicated train cars (rather than renting space on other freight lines), circuses across the country were able to travel faster and more often. Shows in more cities meant more profit. This period also saw the growth of sideshow acts. Tent rows of individual performers, including strong men, fortune tellers, and “circus freaks,” warmed audiences up for the main performance under the big top and provided a healthy profit stream from concessions and tickets to special exhibitions. Many sideshow performers were drawn from immigrant populations from eastern or southern Europe, and the shows often featured skilled talents, like juggling and magic tricks. This “Golden Age” of circus entertainment also saw the emergence of new sponsorship deals. Many industries, from textiles to consumer goods, were eager to use the circus as an advertising opportunity. By 1921 most large circuses had signed at least one contract with a sponsoring firm. The additional profits provided by these contracts were generally reinvested into improving logistical operations or creating more dazzling, dangerous, and exotic shows. This investment generally led to more revenue but also increased operating costs. This led to a pattern which still worries circus administrators: business models are increasingly dependent on sponsor support. Many circus founders and directors fear this gives sponsors too much power over the day-to-day operations of the circus.

8 Shortly after the end of the Great War, the Red Scare swept through Social and America. Members of trade unions—and segments of the population at large— Political were suspected of being communists or anarchists. These perceived threats were branded “Reds” in reference to the symbolic color of socialism. Russian issues of the immigrants were said to be plotting to overthrow the United States government, 1920’s which increased suspicion of foreigners tenfold. This had unfortunate consequences for circuses, which often contained many southern and eastern European immigrants of Slavic descent. When May Day passed uneventfully despite fear of a Bolshevik uprising, the first Red Scare began to die out. In the present year of 1924, the period of greatest fervor has passed but suspicion lingers. Labor unions also grew during the 1910s and 1920s. Despite it being “un-American” to go on strike during a time of social unrest such as the Red Scare, unionization was important to help workers get the rights and fair wages that their employers might otherwise not offer them. In a circus, where workers were often outcasts from “polite society” and especially powerless, the prospect of unions was very alluring. The railroad freight industry, in many ways a sister sector of the traveling circus, provides a rich history of unionization. Unions gained momentum among railway workers throughout the later decades of the nineteenth century, much to the displeasure of the Gilded Age tycoons who owned most rail lines. Some of these groups, such as the American Railway Union (ARU), embraced radical means to disrupt business to fight for worker rights. The Pullman Strike of 1894 was one such action. Spanning twenty-seven states and over a quarter of a million workers, the Pullman Strike escalated into labor riots that caused over $80,000,000 in damages and took thirty lives before they were subdued by the United States Army. While this strike led to the dissolution of the ARU, Railway Brotherhoods continue to exist across the country. While not technically unions, these moderate and well-organized fraternal organizations have grown and prospered in the past fifteen years. Now, they exhibit a considerable amount of influence in the transportation world and in American politics. While the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus now operates its own rail line, friendly relations with the Railroad Brotherhoods never hurt the circus and may be a means to expedite and insure transportation efforts. Unionization in circus companies is still relatively rare and is a very taboo subject, but whispers continue to circulate among performers and logistics employees. Although notable leaders like Samuel Gompers, the man who founded the American Federation of Labor, died in 1924, the labor union movement seems far from over. Prohibition, the ban on all alcoholic beverages mandated by the Eighteenth Amendment, is currently in full effect. Despite this law, America’s appetite for the devil’s nectar persists. Organized crime rings such as Al Capone’s Chicago Outfit or the Five Families of New York City operate rum-running operations in most major American cities. The Ringling Brothers and Barnum &

9 Bailey Circus has no official ties to any bootlegging rings but is often viewed with suspicion by local regulatory agencies. It is not uncommon for city council meeting minutes to casually refer to the circus as “a carnival of moral degenerates.” The glitzy, revealing costumes of many performers and the Bohemian culture that stereotypically defines groups of young performers living and working together does not sit well with the Victorian values of many older Americans. Some aggressive teetotalers have even accused the circus as operating as a distributor for contraband beverages. Given that investigations and regulatory fines are bad for the bottom line of an entertainment industry, many administrators put great emphasis on the importance of public relations and government liaison efforts.

Technological Journalism has undergone a revolution in past decade. Every city now has Innovation at least one major newspaper, and the headlines of these papers shape conversations, opinions, and citizen actions in immeasurable ways. This may be the age of advertisement, but no poster or flyer can compete with the influence of a newspaper. Accordingly, sufficient coverage by newspapers can make or break an entertainment company. Much of this newspaper surge has been attributed to the proliferation of photography. An image is worth a thousand words, and a graphic or moving photo can catch a reader’s attention in ways a snappy headline never could. Images could be particularly beneficial or harmful to the circus; photos of daring acts or high-flying acrobats could evoke interest in potential customers, while less-than-flattering images from backstage showing just how the sausage gets made may cause scandals. After all, photographs can have social impact. No one has forgotten the impact of Jacob Riis, a “muckraking” journalist whose photographs of tenement slums in New York City led to increased regulation and reform. A couple scathing articles have recently been written about animal mistreatment in other circuses that follow the same practices as the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus. If the issue is left unchecked, costly regulations or animal bans may be implemented by legal authorities—certainly a dangerous possibility for show business. While journalism may provide tremendous opportunity, its best to remember that not all press is good press. Radio is the newest medium of the era. With the flick of a switch, news, entertainment, and music were suddenly available in living rooms across the country. While radio sets are still a luxury good, production is surging, and prices are falling. Radio is not currently a direct competitor of the circus; many circuses use radio advertising spots to announce their presence when they first come to a town. But if radio shows, plays, and musical performances continue to grow, show designers and performers may find themselves in trouble. Action must be taken to prevent the circus from becoming the entertainment source of yesteryear.

10 Topic A: Circus Management and Competitive Strategy

Selection of host cities is one of the biggest issues in circus management. Location determines profitability, especially given how difficult travel can be with such a large troupe. Show attendance hinges upon the public perception of a circus in each city. You are currently stationed in St. Louis, where Mayor Henry Kiel has been accommodating of your presence so far. But you won’t be able to stay forever. Your best options include Detroit, where the pull of Ford Motor Company jobs has increased the population and created a thriving city culture, New York, where crowds of the wealthy have flocked for the speakeasies and nightlife, and Chicago, where the Roaring Twenties are more alive than ever, along with jazz and illegal alcohol sales. But we do not exist in a vacuum. The American Circus Corporation (ACC), a consortium of four of the largest circuses in the country, is our main competitor. Formed in 1921, the American Circus Corporation is enjoying meteoric upward momentum. It has hundreds of animals and performers and unparalleled logistical operations. The speed at which the ACC travels has allowed them to “steal” a town from the Ringling Bros. by sending one of its circuses a few days earlier than Ringling had planned to arrive. To stay competitive, committee members will have to both outmaneuver and outshine the ACC. Circus management also includes handling public image and advertising. People will not come to your show if they do not know about it. Furthermore, they also will not come if they do not know good things about it. If the audience is not impressed with what they see or, even worse, if there is a mistake during a show, it reflects badly on the company and will decrease sales. By and large, Ringling/Barnum & Bailey have avoided any massive scandals, but one never knows what risks lie just over the horizon.

Topic B: Internal Tensions

There is a natural tension in any power hierarchy, and the structure of the circus is no different. Administrators (sponsors, coaches, and founders) have very different priorities from the performers (acrobats, clowns, and magicians). While the performers are dedicated to their art, sponsors care far more about profit. Performers want higher wages while administrators resist letting go of that extra money. Both are united in their desire for the circus to succeed, but their methods may differ due to their contrasting submotives. Thankfully, positions such as the ringmaster and other coaches serve as mediators between the two groups due to their close interactions with performers.

11 Starting with the founding of the American Federation of Labor in 1886, workers have had an increased chance of negotiating with their employers. In the present year of 1924 there are no circus worker unions, but they have become increasingly common in many other fields. While voting powers will be equal between delegates in the committee, events that occur in the circus community may affect members in different ways. At the beginning of the committee, there have only been unconfirmed whispers of unionization, the biggest internal threat of all.

Topic C: Profitability

The name of the game is profit. Performers may or may not love their art, but everyone needs the money. Profit will be affected by almost every action you take. With radio and movies becoming more commonplace, advertising offers new opportunities. Ticket prices could vary to optimize sales depending on the wealth of a town. Committee members will need to find the best way to generate a profit in any given circumstance. At the time the committee begins, profits have been rising steadily the past five years since the merger of the two shows, but they are starting to slow down. Sponsors are unhappy with the changing trend.

Delegate Positions

Circus Management:

Charles “All the world's a stage, and the men and women merely players.” Charles Ringling, Ringling has always been a dreamer. There are few things he holds more dearly than his vivid memories of childhood in Wisconsin, where his hard-working but Founder and caring father would read gather his sons around him and the work of “the world’s Co-Owner finest entertainer,” William Shakespeare. That line from As You Like It has become Charles’s personal mantra. The years of founding the Ringling Brothers circus—decades of establishing a name, recruiting talent, and surviving cutthroat competition—were exhausting. A sentimental man, things only grew more difficult as time passed and the number of living brothers dwindled. But throughout the hard days and long nights, Charles quietly repeated Shakespeare’s words to himself. Sharing joy and childlike wonder through entertainment is what the circus is all about. It’s why Charles works as hard as he does. Charles’ dedication has certainly paid off in many ways. He’s beloved by the performers and workers of the circus, who affectionately call him “Mr. Charlie.” This strong relationship makes him an unofficial liaison between the average peanut seller and upper management, and it gives him a great deal of influence over employee morale. While he acknowledges that profitability is critical for the circus’s survival as an organization, it is merely a means that enables more spectacular shows and entertainment.

12 John John’s memories of his childhood are very different than those of his older brother, Charles. Perhaps that is because John always fell asleep during his Ringling, father's stories or because John was often teased by the oldest siblings. In any Founder and case, John remembers one thing: the Ringlings were poor. For many years, he Co-Owner slept on a pile of straw that never seemed fully dry and always smelled faintly of a wet goat. On those lonely nights, surrounded by the stench of leather and sweat, he thought of P. T. Barnum, a man who built an entertainment empire for the purpose of achieving personal wealth. Determined to rise above this base existence, John spent as much of his free time as possible working in his father’s harness-making workshop. There he developed a pragmatic worldview and an uncompromising scrutiny for the bottom line—skills that have served him well in his circus management career. P. T. Barnum is dead and gone, and his circus has been battered into submission and outright purchase. This is the Ringling Brothers’ show now, and John has become the primary profit-driving force on the Executive Board. Company failure at the hands of competitors is his biggest fear, and he is willing to actively use his considerable influence to prevent it. This dogmatic and miserly outlook does not win John many friends. Aside from a few trusted allies on the Board and in the general circus apparatus, John sees most workers as expendable. As he rationalizes it, the customers do not care about the person under the clown’s makeup when they buy tickets, so why should he when he pays their wage? If his head-in-the-clouds brother provides the soul of the circus, John imagines himself as the fiscal-minded backbone, the backbone that will keep them out of the unwashed rabble from which they rose.

Theodore Theodore King is a self-made man. Born Bodek Kilwaszki to a family of King, Director Polish immigrants in San Francisco, Theodore’s childhood was mired in hard work and poverty. At the first chance he got, he left the family’s tenement and of Logistics joined a traveling Vaudeville troupe. Shrewd, pragmatic, and cunning Theodore quickly got involved with managing and organizing of troops; he never got anywhere near the stage due to his fear of public speaking. Increasingly experienced and charismatic over time, the newly christened “Theodore King” quickly became one of the best talent managers in the West. As the profits rolled in, Theodore celebrated his status as an entertainment mogul. Things took a turn for the worse in 1911 when a labor scandal rocked several of his star acts. Long-latent issues erupted into open conflict over the matters of workplace accommodations, safety, and wages. Theodore despises such labor movements; he responded to the Vaudeville revolt with force, firing performers, hiring security, and pushing back hard. Though he was met with success at first, the crackdown failed, and Theodore lost his job. He insists failure only came because others let up the pressure on the workers. Now working in one of the circus’s most senior roles, he is determined not to make the same mistake again. With oversight over all logistics of the circus and a close partnership with John Ringling, King is now one of the most powerful people in the company.

Martin Martin is a British citizen born in Calcutta, one of the largest cities in British-controlled India. Growing up in the Raj shaped Martin’s worldview in Longfellow, many ways. As a child he often wandered the city’s bazaars and markets against Artistic Director his parent’s wishes. There he saw merchants and shoppers and people of all faiths, cultures, and walks of life. He delighted in the musicians and performers

13 that frequented the city squares and was amazed by beast-masters selling wild animals and fragrant spices. Perhaps it was that sense of wonder that convinced Martin to enter the world of art and entertainment; whatever the cause, Longfellow is now revered among the avant-garde and artistic types around the world, especially in the circus. Longfellow entered the circus world six months after moving to the United States as a twenty-two-year-old. Now in his late forties, Longfellow’s decades of experience have earned him the loyalty and respect of many of the circus workers. Many performers see him as one of their strongest advocates given his lofty position and follow his guidance with a strong sense of loyalty. A spiritual man, Longfellow professes the circus will prosper if each man believes he does what is right first and foremost. While this may bring financial issues, Longfellow believes there is no other way to promote the true cultivation of art.

Louie Louie Fazarelli is a man of habit. Every morning, he slicks his hair back Fazarelli, with Brilliante hair gel, dons one of his characteristic pinstripe suits, and drinks two cups of black coffee. He takes the same methodological approach to finding Chief Talent new talent. No employment contract gets Lou’s stamp of approval before it clears Scout three hurdles: 1) Are they applaudable? 2) Are they marketable? 3) Are they loyal? Louie boasts that he is unparalleled in finding employees who pass all three tests with flying colors. Few can argue otherwise. Born and raised in New York City but with friends and contacts in every major city in the United States, Louie has the knowledge of a grade-A headhunter. He also has the skill; Louie is charismatic and charming enough to convince a Wall Street banker that he might have a future under the big top, but so tight-lipped that not even the twinkle of genius in his eye betrays how he feels about a potential hire before their contract is signed. Beyond finding new performers and managers for operations and shows, Louie is also one of the primary contacts when the circus officials require certain “extracurricular” services. Whether it is a bottle or two of celebratory contraband after a successful tour or a little bit of regulatory-palm greasing, chances are that Louie knows a guy who can get the job done. How does the sausage get made? Louie’s got a few friends back in New York who may or may not be involved in some organized crime rackets. He is also more than willing to call in favors with people whose employment contracts he has pushed through or whose jobs he has helped protect. Be it through standard employment efforts or below-the-table fixing, Fazarelli serves as an asset that helps the circus stay innovative and flexible.

Archie is as American as they come. When he is not scarfing down apple pie or Archie cheering at a baseball game, he is probably reading the miniature Constitution he Birdheart, always keeps in the breast pocket of his suit. You see, Archie was not born into Local the classic picket-fence American family that he fantasizes about while falling asleep every night. Like the Ringling brothers, Archie is the child of German Government immigrants. When his parents first immigrated from Bavaria to Cincinnati, Ohio, Liasion the spelling of their last name was changed from “Berghardt” to “Bergheart.” When the Great War broke out and patriotism swept the nation, Archie hopped on board and legally changed his name from Adolf to Archie. By 1920, the war was over the nation had relaxed, but Archie had not. Before the year was out, he had changed his name a second time, from Bergheart to Birdheart. With the last

14 vestiges of his Germanic identity all but erased, Archie kissed his mother goodbye and left his job in the Cincinnati mayor's office to work with circus management. Despite his persecution-free experience and entirely voluntary assimilation, Archie remains a nervous man. This is a double-edged sword. His absurd insecurity and obsession in his American-ness is often mocked by his peers and coworkers, yet Archie’s belief that an American should be hardworking means that he can execute his demanding and crucially important job very successfully. As government liaison, Archie must ensure the local authority and regulators are happy to have the circus in town. If he fails, they may kick the circus out, dooming any chance the company has at recovering steep operating costs.

Mary Elizabeth’s history is one of social engagement. Twenty years ago, Mary she was the president of the Chicago chapter of the Women’s Organization for Elizabeth Sobriety, Temperance, and Moral Decency. A hawkish teetotaler who knew the Brownstone, dangers of the devil’s nectar from her childhood with an alcoholic father, she organized marches and demonstrations to further the temperance movement. Director of When her bid at the national presidency was sabotaged by her rival, the vicious Ethics and shrew Eustace Marie Thornewood, she left the temperance movement and joined Regulatory the ranks of the American Suffrage and Female Enfranchisement Movement. Compliance Rising through the ranks, she was soon a leading voice for women’s suffrage in the United States. She marched from state to state until the landmark amendment was ratified. In 1920, Thornewood (that vile, conniving harlot) received the Chicago Tribune’s Award for Outstanding Civic Engagement. Disgraced and humiliated, Brownstone moved to Toronto, Canada. There she met the famed British suffragette Emmeline Pankhurst. The two women formed a strong partnership working together in the Canadian National Council for Combating Venereal Diseases and spending summers together on “productive holidays” in London. Brownstone would have continued her life with Pankhurst if the opportunity for sweet, sweet vengeance didn’t fall into her lap. But as fate would have it, the Chicago Tribune’s lead story of 1924 described the moral bankruptcy and vulgarity of the abomination known as the “circus.” That article was written by none other than the elitist she-devil Eustace Marie Thornewood. The American Circus Corporation’s Harbeck-Wallace Circus had just been in town. Seeing the opportunity, she reached out to her old friend Charlie Ringling who promptly appointed her to her current position. Brownstone’s goal is now simple; she is on a crusade to make the circus a beacon of moral propriety. She believes that a visiting circus should not only provide entertainment but charity and moral improvement to its patrons. This won’t be an easy task in the circus; employees come from a variety of backgrounds, many of them far from squeaky clean. First on her personal regulatory chopping block are the magic acts; perhaps such tricks are entertaining, but at what cost to decent Christian values? Brownstone doesn’t care about the financial risk; she’s a woman on a mission, a woman who won’t be satisfied until the she leads the circus in a parade down Michigan Avenue, right in front of the apartment of the detestable Eustace Marie Thornewood.

Gary has always been a bit of a disappointment to his father. Before Gary T. running off to join the circus, Gary was a Chess Grandmaster. It began innocently Cohen, enough; chess—like piano, violin, Greek, Latin, and waltzing—was just another Director of skill Gary perfected in his studies with the long line of tutors that paraded past Safety and Risk 15 Management the sweeping bay windows of his family’s Potomac-view parlor twice a week. People quickly noticed Gary had a natural skill and passion for the game. Within weeks, his father was boasting of Gary’s skill at every socialite cocktail party he attended. Within months, he was the best in DC. The fall from the family’s latest social asset to rejection and embarrassment was an ugly one. Gary does not like to talk about it. Suffice it to say that in his father’s eyes, chess mastery is an admirable hobby but not a respectable career. The obsessive propriety and self-aggrandizement of upper- class society was never comfortable for Gary anyway. Gary is much more content at the circus, a setting where the strategic thinking he developed at the chessboard serves him well. As Director of Safety, Gary’s approval has significant weight. Administrators and performers alike will not find much traction with their newest plan if it does not have Gary’s approval. He has stonewalled projects that he sees as too risky. Because he lives in constant fear of something going horribly wrong and causing a scandal, he performs his job meticulously. Always prompt to remind feuding parties that everyone shares a common desire for profit and employment, the etiquette Gary learned as a child allows him to function not only as a watchdog but as an arbiter on the committee.

There are three passions in Loretta’s life: Mahjong, the finest Cuban Loretta cigars, and sales. At the ripe old age of eighty-seven, she is an aberration of her O’Leary, generation. Many of her peers (those still living, that is) remain mired in the Director of strict conservative Victorian mindset. Loretta is cut from a different cloth. Born to a family of Irish immigrants and raised in a rural community outside Concessions Cincinnati, Ohio, she learned how to dominate tabletop games and not mince her words at an early age. When the Civil War erupted in 1861, the twenty-four-year- old Loretta became Lawrence and went undercover as a soldier of the 104th Ohio Infantry Regiment. Her determination and tough attitude as well as her sense of duty and discipline were shaped during the war years. Now, whenever Loretta sets out to accomplish something she ensures that it is done and that it is done well. After the war she operated an inn and tavern in Chicago. Famous for its food and drink, The Crossed Rifles was a favorite for numerous Chicagoans, including many young Irish-American men who would eventually become leaders of the infamous North Side Gang. Crime never was Loretta’s style, though she has been more than happy to take up friendly young smugglers in their offers to travel down to Cuba (since the end of the Spanish–American war, Loretta has built up quite a reputation among cigar sellers in Havana). Still, many of her Mahjong rivals and former business competitors claim O’Leary’s sizeable fortune came from these underworld contacts, but she knows it stems from her business savvy. Loretta did not keep her food confined to the store; she sent vendors out to the streets, to the common working man looking for a cheap and hearty lunch. It was that creativity and willingness to advertise aggressively that drew the attention of circus recruiters in early 1900s. After a very positive experience at The Crossed Rifles in 1909, the Ringling brothers hired Loretta as the Director of Sustenance and Nutrition for the Barnum and Bailey company, which they had recently purchased. Rather than retire, the seventy-two-year-old took the job and left the family business in the hands of her son, Leland. She later transferred out of logistics and into sales. She thrives in the job. If you walk down sideshow row on the average evening, you can see Loretta, hobbling along with her cane and a spring in her step, hawking corndogs, cotton candy, and popcorn to every man, woman, and child in sight. Now more than ever, O’Leary is gritty and authentic to

16 herself and far beyond caring what anyone else thinks of her. She will run her operations the way she sees fit and will not let anyone tell her otherwise. Always thinking creatively, she is looking to boost sales by expanding her operations into new products. She is a great-grandmother now and wants more profit that she can use to care for her large extended family.

Have you ever watched the sunrise over the Aegean from your perch in Dorothea the high branches of an olive tree? Dorothea has. Her fondest memories are of Demopolous, her childhood spent in a village overlooking the city of Smyrna, an ethnic Greek Director of city located on the Western coast of present day Turkey. Under the Mediterranean sun, she spent mornings working on her grandmother’s farm, her Security afternoons in the classroom, and her evenings selling olives and dates in one of Smyrna’s many buzzing, frenetic market places. She misses those simple, sun- stained times. But golden ages end; sometimes you need to grow up. When Dorothea was thirteen, officials of the struggling Ottoman Empire began centralization reforms in the wealthy but autonomous region of Smyrna. Taxes increased, and new taxes were levied against non-Muslim families. Suddenly, her family could no longer make rent on their farm. Determined to help her family get by, Dorothea joined a ring of petty thieves and pickpockets operating in the City. While it hurt her heart to go against her grandmother’s teachings, she knew she had to act. Demopoulos was a fantastic thief. A shadow in a bright market and a charming and unsuspecting rogue, she had developed quite the reputation among the regional underworld by her fifteenth birthday. Things took a darker turn in 1908 when the Ottoman military began actively repressing Greek communities in the Smyrna region. Many thieves and thugs in the region found the violence unacceptable. At age eighteen, the Shadow of Smyrna became one of the only female commanders of the resistance troops that defended Greek neighborhoods. For the next ten years, Dorothea operated as a vigilante soldier keeping the neighborhoods of her people safe. She became a skilled soldier and excellent firm-but-fair leader in that time. Duty and service was the most fulfilling experience of her life. In 1919, the Greek Army, with instrumental assistance from local militias such as Dorothea’s, seized Smyrna from the crumbling Ottoman Empire and occupied the city. The Greek population rejoiced. But again, darkness awaited on the horizon. Turkish nationalist forces under the command of Mustafa Kemal Atatürk attacked and captured the city in 1922. This was not a peaceful occupation. Dorothea watched, helpless, as her forces crumbled before the Turkish onslaught. She watched as the city she loved burned. She watched as civilians were slaughtered. She watched as her family and her life were annihilated. Dorothea does not like to talk about that time or months that followed. She left Turkey for Athens, but things did not feel right there. She needed a new start. Ultimately, she immigrated to Boston where she attempted to join the police department of her Greek neighborhood. Though skilled and disciplined, she was blacklisted from entry due to her gender. Frustrated and disillusioned, she approached the Ringlings after seeing numerous pickpockets raiding the circus grounds. The brothers jumped at the opportunity and in 1923 Dorothea was appointed director of security, despite pushback from talent scout Louie Fazarelli. Still struggling with her grief, Demopoulos must balance her loss and hardened resentment with the duties and responsibilities of her office. While some are taken aback by her shady past and her somewhat militant nature, her

17 expertise in crime and disciplined nature are evident and admired by many. This is Dorothea’s opportunity for a new life; she must only find the energy to seize it.

Catherine Catherine has had a passion for art for as long as she can remember. As a de la Cruz, child, her mother took her to an art museum in her hometown of New York City every weekend; her favorite was always the Metropolitan Museum of Art. In her Director of teenage years, she has mastered a variety of media, from watercolor to oil paints Public to charcoal drawings. Many of her teachers criticized the hyperbole of her work. Relations Many of the scenes she depicted bordered on the absurd, featuring bold lines and bright colors. The work resonated with many of her peers, however, and and Catherine quickly found herself a member of the growing Bohemian scene of Advertising artists in the city. Now, Catherine has friends who excel as musicians, performers, and writers. By the time Catherine was thirty years old, she began to encounter financial troubles. She and her husband, Dominic, an actor in the city, struggled to make rent and afford the price of everyday life. Catherine faced a choice: she could abandon her passion or change her way of living. The choice was easy. In 1919, she left the city and took a job as an advertising agent for the Ringling Brothers’ circus company. Catherine has since become one of the most successful and admired artistic agents in all the entertainment industry. She has received a variety of job offers from everything from vaudeville shows to movie theaters. She has denied them all as she has both the comfort of living and the freedom she thrives on in her current job with the circus. Henry has taken up work as a clown and her three children eagerly practice their juggling, tightrope, and knife-throwing skills every night before bed. It is a happy life but not one free from struggles. Catherine has never had the skill with numbers and business management that her parents once hoped she would have. This has yielded complications with her current managerial role in public relations. Due to a series of slip ups in the past, many other leaders in the circus see her as a skilled artist but poor communicator, and she fears for her job security and worries one big slip-up might be the last straw. De la Cruz is also concerned by the pace of technology these days, especially photographs. Drawn and painted art is structured; its use in advertising gives her control over what people see and how they feel about the circus. Photographs break the spell. They are outside of her expertise and threaten to unveil dangerous scandals that threaten the circus’s bottom line. Moving forward, Catherine must balance her skill and her passion with her duty if she is to help the company effort and continue her personal prosperity.

Performers:

Humphrey Few can match the enthusiasm, charisma, and deep resonant baritone of Hobsworth, Humphrey Hobsworth. For many fans, he is synonymous with the spectacle that is Ringmaster the three-ring circus. Humphrey adamantly claims that this is no accident; after all, the ringmaster is “the Prophet of Entertainment.” He is the pillar of order in a show defined by bizarre and extraordinary chaos. He is the angel that invites the audience to escape of the outside world’s purgatory and embrace the blissful salvation that the circus offers. In short, Humphrey is not a humble man, but he is very good at his job. Given this confidence, it is surprising that Humphrey is still relatively new on the job. Only three years ago, Humphrey was working as a news announcer in

18 the nascent industry of radio broadcasting. Though his golden voice was a million-dollar asset, he was sacked rather promptly due to his habit of embellishing the daily news in his hometown of Kansas City, Missouri. Luckily for him, the circus happened to be in town that week. When talent scout Louie Fazarelli overheard him drunkenly blustering about his post-termination blues in a local speakeasy, Humphrey suddenly found himself with a job offer. Now a valued employee of the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey family, Ringmaster Hobsworth has established himself as a household name in circus- going families and has cemented many strong friendships among performers in many acts. Given his access to managerial positions, the talent hopes that Hobsworth can represent their views accurately and earnestly and that he does not get caught up in the vapors of his own hot air.

Zolton the First things first: Zolton is not Russian. He is Hungarian. There is a Mighty, the difference. Zolton jokes that if his tongue could gain muscle every time he makes “Modern this clarification, his sideshow act would catapult to the center ring under the big Atlas” of top. It is not his fault that his thick and throaty Hungarian accent is indistinguishable from generic Slavic tones to American ears. Do not be mistaken; Strongmen Zolton is a simple, self-contained man. He could not care less if you have never heard of the Budapest slum where he grew up or if you are completely oblivious that he is the holder of several weight-lifting titles in central European competition circuits. Just do not call him Russian. The reason for Zolton’s anti-Slavic strain is unclear. Perhaps his national pride is tired of being misattributed to an entirely different cultural group. Perhaps the opportunity-seeking immigrant in him cannot stand the idea of a Communist regime. Or perhaps the rumors of Zolton fighting the Tsar’s men on the front lines of Eastern Front in the Great War are true. No one can be sure; Zolton does not talk about his past much. So long as he has his show and his trusty set of barbells, he’ll be happy. And if he’s happy, he’ll continue to be one of the most popular and most profitable attractions at the circus.

Ellara the Not much is known about Ellara the Enchanting, one of the most Enchanting, mysterious and aloof members of the circus’s troupe of performers. Employment records show she was born Elena Sokolov, a Russian Jew whose family Master immigrated to Philadelphia when she was twelve. No one has verified that Illusionist information, though. Perhaps because they are too scared to ask; when the circus sets up shop, Ellara always camps out away from the other performers in a solitary tent with midnight blue canvas. Rumor has it that the interior is swathed with fine silks and fabrics the color of the night sky, and if someone were to look up while inside, he might see the stars. The management loves Ellara because her shows drive audiences wild; her skill at making objects appear and disappear or levitate is unparalleled on the circuit. Conversely, other employees are not too comfortable around Ellara. Many are not sure her magic is only an act. In either case, she remains one of the company’s most serene and mysterious figures until you put her head-to-head with rival magician Maximo the Magnificent. Ellara does not like Maximo. In fact, she insists Maximo is a pompous fool who has no respect for the mystic arts and even less skill at it. After every one of their clashes, she can be seen storming

19 off to her tent with her long flowing cloak fluttering as she mutters in Russian that she doesn’t do magic; she deals only in illusions.

“Magic Max” has wanted to be a magician since he received his first deck Maximo the of trick cards as a Hanukkah gift at age nine. Called the most energetic boy in Magnificent, class by many of his grade-school teachers, Max has always approached the Magician endeavors of his life with enthusiasm. Magic is no exception. He poured his every Extraordinare cent (usually earned from working odd jobs and occasional pickpocketing) into his passion. Musty top hats. Velvet cloaks. Genuine hickory wands. A succession of rabbits and birds (the starting days were rough and somewhat smother-prone). By the time he was fourteen, Max was playing late-night shows in theaters all over Cleveland. Maximo the Magnificent was born. Yet Max’s upwards climb was soon halted by tragedy. In September of 1903, Max’s parents perished in a tenement fire, leaving Max orphaned and alone. Fleeing the threat of orphanages and his wicked extended family, he fled to the streets where he encountered Clark Stanley, famed western cowboy and snake oil elixir salesman. For the next seven years, Max traveled the country with Clark’s show, mixing up piecemeal batches of the magic elixir in repurposed beer barrels before barking the Rattlesnake King’s snake oil in town squares and street corners. It was in this public forum that Max turned lifelong enthusiasm into marketable skill. On a cold winter day in 1910, John Ringling spotted Max blustering and preaching to a mesmerized crowd. Over gin and tonic that evening, the two got to know each other. Max opened up about his long desire to become a magician, and the rest is history. Maximo the Magnificent is now one of the circus’s Big Three personalities: tiger tamer Mabel Stark, clown DimDim McTickles, and he. Generally, he is an amicable personality and is well-liked by his co-performers and by management. The exception to his energetic charisma is Ellara. The magician and enchantress can’t stand each other. In fact, Magic Quarterly resent referred to them as “the snake and mongoose of the performative occult world.” After especially aggressive fights, Max finds comfort in the knowledge that the other magic acts are regulated to the sideshow, while he gets his own time in the spotlight. But Maximo does not let it go to his head—at least, not that often.

Madame Shoshana is one of the oldest and most respected members of Madame the circus troupe. Born and raised in a tiny town in the Louisiana Bayou, her Shoshana, Creole-accented speech is rough and her manners rougher. But no one can claim Fortune Teller Shoshana is not resourceful. Before being recruited to the circus, she lived in the far outskirts of New Orleans, hunting and cooking her own meals and making her own clothes. She only ventured into town to operate her fortune-telling stand near a prominent graveyard in the French Quarter, where she met talent agent Louie Fazarelli. No one is quite sure how Louie convinced Madame Shoshana to join the company, but many think it might be one of the only cases where the general trend of people owing Louie favors is reversed. Shoshana’s independent streak continues to this day. It is public knowledge that she has had clashes with upper management. The standard issue is marketing; the showrunners generally want more fortunes told, but Shoshana insists her art cannot be rushed. Her visions cannot be conjured up; they must come to her. Wages are not the issue here because all Shoshana cares about is personal autonomy and as little interference as possible. Many in upper management see her as a thorn in their side, but Charles Ringling (a regular client and close friend) has halted more than one termination attempt in the past.

20 Despite her rough demeanor, Madame Shoshana remains a respected figure. Fearing her experience and mysterious capabilities, no one really wants to get on her bad side. And when she has a vision, people listen.

People come from far and wide to see DimDim, one of the most skilled DimDim practitioners of the clowning arts in America. DimDim and his troupe of Goofy McTickles, Goons are, in many ways, escapism incarnate. Their carefree antics soothe a fast- Clown paced world with too many worries. Together, they are the primary face of the circus experience; they delight and amuse audiences from the pre-performance sideshow antics to the final crescendo of the grand finale. It does not matter if they are juggling, tumbling out of tiny cars, or taunting some of the circus’s exotic animals: DimDim’s acts almost always get a standing ovation. Silly, wholesome, and energetic, the charm and charisma of DimDim’s onstage persona is beloved by guests of all ages. When the curtain falls, a different DimDim emerges. The buoyant hills and valleys of his voice are replaced by a gruff no-nonsense growl. Often found chain-smoking cigarettes by the tiger cage, DimDim gets reflective and a tad cynical after a show. Years of toil and hard work have led to the perfection of his craft. Yet as the circus has grown and prospered, his standard of living is largely the same. Unlike the guests, he has no Sunday best; his finest set of clothes is his oversized costume. His meals still consist primarily of cabbage broth and stale bread. He cannot remember the last time he had a vacation. DimDim is usually a patient man, but he has been talking with the other performers, and they are all getting a little fed up. If these conversations continue, DimDim figures it will not be too long until enough is enough. Sooner or later, the time for jokes will be over. It will be time for action.

Mabel Stark grew up the daughter of poor farmers in Princeton, Kentucky. Mabel Stark, Orphaned at age seventeen, transience and turbulence have defined Mabel’s Master of story. She entered the world entertainment as a dancer in a small traveling Exotic Beasts vaudeville act that was ultimately absorbed by the Al G. Barnes circus, a regional troupe based in California. Her experience with horseback riding led to an apprenticeship as a stunt rider under the tutelage of animal master Al Sands. But horses were not enough for the thrill-seeking Stark. Every night she dreamed of the big cats who prowled their iron cages with eyes that glinted in the lamplight. Those close to her (if anyone could claim that) might say that she related to the tigers and panthers. Most only saw that the big cats were powerful and spectacular. Mabel saw that they were trapped and confused by their present circumstance but remained undefeated. Mabel trained under Louis Roth, a famous “cat man” whom she later married. By 1916, her manifest skill had earned her the frontline spot in the Barnes circus’s animal-act lineup. Accompanying Mabel’s skill as a presenter is her bravery in the face of outright danger. She has been mauled several times (primarily by leopards with a few lions sprinkled here and there) yet remains dedicated to her art. In fact, Mabel has gone so far as to adopt and raise a tiger of her own, and Rajah, once a mangy runt of a cub, is now one of the most fearsome and loyal beasts in the entire circuit. Hired by John Ringling in 1922, Mabel has quickly made a name for herself in the Ringling Brothers circus. As the primary animal act, Mabel has a tremendous amount of influence over the other performers in her division and over the fans who line up around the block to see her daring deeds. A fiercely independent and self-made woman, Mabel is perhaps

21 the truest example of an artist in the diverse group of performers that makes up the circus’s talent pool.

Guillermo Guillermo does it all. From high flying trapeze to juggling on the tightrope Fernandez, to his special act (doing backflips on the back of racing stallions), the Spanish- born performer is a rising star in the circus. Guillermo’s background is largely the Castilian unknown. He speaks (in his thick Castilian accent) of his childhood performing in Cavalier Toledo but has never explained how he came to the United States. Debonair yet mysterious, many suspect this “bad boy” of the troupe to have a shady past. No one can be certain, and Guillermo remains a widely controversial yet extraordinarily popular figure in the circus troupe. Having spent his entire life in the spotlight, it is natural Guillermo now finds himself at the center of one of America’s most successful circus troupes. He is a newcomer to the Ringling Brothers’ show; he was recently hired from a small- circuit company running through New England and Quebec. In the few months that Guillermo has been active, he has seen a meteoric rise in popularity. While many circus veterans crack this success up to advertising boosts and the fact that Fernandez is new talent, some performers are starting to get envious of his success. Guillermo must use all his charm and skill to balance productive relations with his coworkers with his own personal desire to practice his art and hear his fans go wild.

Logistics:

Crosby is a staple of the circus staff. No one is quite sure when he started Crosby working at the troupe, but one can be certain that it is impossible to imagine a Smirkovsky, company climate without the integral role Crosby plays. Fluent in five languages, Coordinator he is a curious man who is shockingly well-read in everything from classical Chinese fables to avant-garde French poetry. Crosby is also an amateur for Aerial and globetrotter; rumor is he spent several months during his prime in the 1890s as a Acrobatic Acts performer at the famous Moulin Rouge in Paris. It is certain he had the skills to do so; a retired performer himself, Crosby is a master of skills ranging from contortion to the flying trapeze. Now in his early sixties, he has put his days of daring acrobatics behind him and is employed as coordinator and coach for a critical division of circus acts. This intermediary role makes Smirkovsky a critical link between the performers and the upper management, two groups that are prone to friction over financial and company-culture issues. Many management officials value Crosby’s dedication and expertise. The talent has a loyalty to Crosby that is without limit; after all, many of the circus’s current stars learned to excel in their art as a direct result of Smirkovsky’s tutelage. Crosby hopes to use this unique position to mediate conflicts and keep the circus operating so that the art of the spectacle can continue. It is this wonder, the glint of excitement in a child’s eye or the way a grown man may lose his stoic composition when witnessing a jaw- dropping feat, that keeps Smirkovsky going. That, to him, is the purpose of the circus, and he will continue to safeguard it as best he can.

Mikey Mikey MacGregor is not a nice man. He is a man who works hard. He is a man who tells it like it is. Above all, he is a man who does his job. Raised in MacGregor, Aberdeen, Scotland, Mikey survived a turbulent childhood with a family that was Coordinator of Rigging and 22 Construction anything but stable. At age eleven he began working at the Aberdeen harbor as a dockhand, loading and unloading cargo. This was the 1880s, a period when the shipping industry found itself in a strange flux of changing times; both old- fashioned sailing ships and cutting-edge steamships frequented the port and Mikey used both steam-powered machinery and his own human strength to move freight. All the hustle and bustle of these changing times was too much for MacGregor. As time went by, he became increasingly traditional and increasingly gritty. He has now cultivated a general aversion to new-fangled gizmos and gadgets. Rather than a retirement in the city with an automobile or an electric washer, Mikey would prefer a quiet cottage by the sea with a hardwood chair and a cliffside view. Despite his gruff and standoffish nature, MacGregor is unparalleled in his job performance. Perhaps it is the experience with sailing ships or the numerous survival skills under MacGregor’s belt, but whatever the cause no one is as knowledgeable in raising tents or securing tightropes as Mikey. MacGregor is also responsible for overseeing the logistical team that moves the circus. From packing up the entire operation to loading tents, animals, and employees onto the train, to setting everything back up in a new city, Mikey runs his operation with ruthless efficiency. Time is money in MacGregor’s book, and he does not want to waste a dime.

Olaf Olaf is a first-generation American born to a family of Swedish Svensson, immigrants residing in the outskirts of St. Paul, Minnesota. While he has fond memories of growing up with his grandparents, parents, and many siblings, he Head has always been a bit of a black sheep in his family. His brothers are all tall and Custodian of burly Scandinavian men with bulging muscles and long, tangled beards. Little the Olaf, on the other hand, was always the runt of the litter; small and frail, his Menageire parents did not end up naming him until his second birthday as the feared so dearly for his health. Because his constitution precluded him from working in the Minnesotan iron mines with his brothers, he joined his sisters in caring for the livestock on the family farm. There, Olaf formed a deep love for animals. From cows to chickens to horses, he felt comfortable in the barn and found that disciplining animals came easily to him. By the time he was fifteen, he took up an apprenticeship at the Como Park Zoo. The job gave him unprecedented contact with animals, and Olaf loved every second of it. These days, Olaf has joined the circus as the logistical head of all animal acts. Under his purview are ferocious tigers, swift stallions, regal lions, dancing bears, and majestic elephants. While he still may be rather thin and short, his heart is full of love for his work. Svenson is an ideal boss; he knows the name and story of each animal and employee under his supervision. If things were all up to Olaf, these would be the only people he interacted with; he still tends towards shyness. But his job mandates that he work closely with other logistical directors to see that the animals’ food is shipped on time and that the beasts are transported from city to city efficiently and safely. Thankfully for the circus, Olaf is very good at his job. The only time animals are mistreated under Olaf’s watch is when another custodian does not do his job. Sometimes people get lazy or angry, and sometimes the animals feel the brunt of that irresponsibility. If Olaf wants to avoid any scandals, he must balance his natural shyness and avoidance of conflict with the need to run a tight ship.

23 Henry Goldstone has a unique role. Back when P. T. Barnum founded his Henry circus, he instituted a Circus Code to which he expected all performers and Goldstone, employees of the circus to adhere. The intent was to set workplace standards Keeper of through which all could find common ground and set common goals. The Keeper of the Code was a largely ceremonial role that Barnum created and occupied the Circus himself; through it he organized semi-popular camp-style bonding activities and Code occasionally enforced employee standards when a clown or acrobat skipped one too many rehearsals. Over the years, the role faded to the point where it was almost completely forgotten, until Henry Goldstone came along. Born to a wealthy family of London bankers, Goldstone is a man who thinks highly of rules and very highly of himself. His family was one of the first to invest in Philip Astley, the man who began the circus craze in the mid-eighteenth century. For that reason, he often claims the art of the three-ring circus is in his blood despite that he has absolutely zero performance-worthy skills. In spite of his talk of the “noble art of the circus,” Goldstein sees profit as the true purpose of the circus. It was precisely that attitude that convinced John Ringling to offer him a high- paying job as Keeper of the Circus Code. Goldstone worships the Code as if it were a set of divine laws. While most of his preaching of its merits and the penalties of violation is just talk, he has been known to bring serious offenders to the Ringlings. His primary role is officially to promote loyalty to the circus and to guard against collusion with competitors. Goldstone’s moralistic bent emphasizes this responsibility almost to the point of radicalism. His other responsibility, as John Ringling often reminds him, is to push the employees to work hard for their salaries. John and Henry have a close friendship that is in equal parts authentic and productive; Goldstone sees his boss as a mentor and Ringling sees Goldstone as a way to squeeze every inch of productivity out of his workforce. Yet as time has gone by, Goldstone has become increasingly autonomous. As time moves on, he is beginning to see himself as the true moral and spiritual authority guiding the circus culture. Today, the circus is a ship sailing in fair water. Tomorrow, storms may come. In such a case, Henry Goldstone is more than willing to step in as the steady-handed captain the company needs, even if it does not know it yet.

Big Bart has earned his nickname; the man is a big deal. In his youth, Bart Bartholomew was one of the most successful chefs and restaurateurs in all the Midwest. The “Big Bart” only thing this “moderately” overweight St. Louis native treasures more than a Bagsby, nice ribeye is his own business savvy. Back before Prohibition, he began his Manager of business supplying the Gateway City’s many bars and taverns with snacks and food that would appeal to a drinking customer base. The profits were lucrative, Sustinence but bar food was never enough for Bart, a big man with bigger ambitions. In time, and Nutrition Bart had built up enough of a fortune to diversify his trade and pursue his true dream: steak. Now, Big Bart’s Steak House is a St. Louis icon that draws visitors from around the country. What sets Bart’s steaks above the competition is his mix of domestic and foreign flavors. The finest cuts of Missouri beef are shipped via refrigerated cars from Kansas City and are prepared in Bart’s kitchen with spices and herbs from all over the world. Though the roaring twenties have brought many conveniences to life, it can still be difficult to find exotic spices like Indian black coriander or Indonesian galangal at your average grocer’s. Don’t worry though; Bart knows a guy. It was that expertise in food preparation and shipping logistics that drew Louie Fazarelli’s attention a few years ago. The Ringlings had been looking for a

24 new company chef after the beloved Chef Doyarbee perished tragically in a skiing accident last year, and Bart fit the bill perfectly. Though he has only been on the management team for a year, Bagsby’s jovial demeanor and cooking skills have quickly earned the love and respect of well-fed employees across the troupe. Bart is thrilled to be back home in St. Louis and would love to see the circus stay in town for as long as possible; traveling to a new city would not only mean the normal slew of logistical juggling to ensure enough ingredients materialize in his kitchen everyday but also result in separation from his beloved steakhouse. But even if things do not go as he would like, Bart knows he will be all right. If he calls in enough favors from his extensive contacts outside the circus and leverages the powers of his office properly, he can always expect a delicious strip steak waiting for him after every long day on the job.

Theodore Bertelsby IV may not be literally be made of money, but in all Theodore other ways he is. Born and raised a southern gentleman, many of the Bertelsby IV, metropolitan elite look forward to the monthly steak-and-whiskey nights he hosts Proud in his penthouse apartment atop one of New York City’s newest skyscrapers. The lavish lifestyle that Bertelsby leads stems from the family business: Carolina Sponsor Textile Company. Now sixty-four years young, Theodore is making history in the company. Not only is he the massively successful firm’s fourth president, he is also the fourth president to be named Theodore. The road to the top was not easy. Before he was president, Theodore had to pull himself up from Senior Executive Partner. Before that was the humiliatingly low entry-level position of Junior Executive Partner. Those were ghastly days, when his office was smothered by drab panels of oak and his chef regularly overcooked his nightly porterhouse steak. Things are much better now: his office is paneled exclusively in the rich hues of endangered brazilwood and Jean-Claude would not dare to over-sear Theodore’s scallops lest he go the way of Pierre, Guillaume, and François-Xavier before him. Profit is the sole reason Theodore has chosen to sponsor the circus. Two decades ago the upstart Ringling brothers signed an exclusive supply contract with Theodore Bertelsby III. This mandated that all big-top canvas, clown outfits, and cloth-based circus paraphernalia would be supplied exclusively by the Carolina Textile Company. As the circus expanded, the profits rolled in. The partnership thrived. But things have started to change since Theodore IV succeeded his father five years ago. Now the shareholders (and Theodore’s ego) are clamoring for increased profits. For that reason, he thinks the mighty enterprise that is the Carolina Textile Company must exert its influence over the Ringling Brothers/Barnum & Bailey circus. Through increased advertising, contract renegotiation, or the threat of sponsor withdrawal, Theodore is determined to pad his profits and secure his legacy.