Thursday, February 27, 2020

Bear Act


There is no recording of this. There was no videotape. It was Chicago.

I think I was four years old, which would put this at 1956. A group of kids from the Neighborhood Club, that was the name, went to be on television. I had never seen a television.  Lee Phillips was the producer. There was a bear act. The trainer grabbed me out of the group of kids to ride behind the bear on a scooter.

The bear had silver curly hair. I didn’t smell anything. I held onto the big massive wall of curly hair. There were extremely bright lights. I squinted at the cameras and looked away. I wondered what the cameras were. I waved to the kids. Then the dog showed up. The dog perched its paws on my shoulders while we rode around in a circle. The dog’s big head was next to mine; I could smell the dog.  I didn’t know from bears or scooters, but I was afraid of dogs.  Perhaps the bear was affected by my fear because it roared, which also startled me. I had a feeling like:

-uh oh

The trainer called the dog off. The dog was like:

-What? I’m working here.

The trainer took me off the scooter.  I went back to the kids. One of the kids said:

-You rode behind the bear!

I nodded. I felt I had let down the act. Later I saw the trainer smoking and he glanced at me.

We got to all run into a cave and each get a present. I opened mine and got a dolly. A girl got a Tommy gun style squirt gun. Lee Phillips made us switch.

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