Tearful Old Men

Harry had a gigantic fan club. This is Denise and their daughter Casey. He spent pretty much his whole adult life working on the carnival. He dodged my camera for a long time but finally gave in around the time this baby was born. Babies give you a whole new perspective. Harry died of a heart attack in Alabama, in September of 2008. Or was it 2007? I can't remember now but I remember very clearly being the one who inadvertently told Pops. It was three days later. I assumed he knew.

Some of you may already know this but for anyone who hasn't had the experience - when you accidentally tell an eighty-year-old man that someone he loves has died - he's going to cry. And so are you. And so is anyone else who happens to be there.  Doesn't matter how big a bad ass they are. Tearful old men: one of the world's great equalizers. Rest in peace Harry.

Call me in the morning

Leo

Ring of Fire

 

 

  

Little Karen

Old School

Charles "Pops" Norwell
1933-2012

Rest in Peace Pops.
We love you, mucho. xxO

Card game, Tampa

I finally brought this photo out of the flat file to frame in my office. It was taken at winter quarters in Tampa in 2000. If I'm not mistaken and again, someone tell me if I am, the man in the middle of this shot (holding a beer) claimed to be some sort of minister. He was living in a bunkhouse at the time and wore these big fuzzy bunny rabbit slippers.

I'll never forget the utter joy I felt the first time I  saw those floppy ears pad down the metal steps and realized they were attached to a full-grown African American man. There just aren't that many men that could pull that off in ordinary circumstances let alone on a carnival lot.

Teardown day

Thanks for memories and Happy Birthday

See you down the road Larry..

I am sorry to report that Larry Brown a long time employee and friend of Bluegrass Shows died yesterday at the hospital after having suffered a stroke. He would have been sixty nine years old today. His family is in our thoughts and prayers.

Ten years ago today

The crew of the Dream Machine takes a few minutes to reflect on the days events; September 11, 2001

On the morning of September 11, 2001, I woke up in the doghouse of the Skywheel at the Tennessee State Fair.  It was cool and damp as it always seems to be that time of year and I remember sitting up in the hammock and wishing for a clean pair of socks before heading out with my camera to Gracie's cookhouse for roll call. The early risers were already there Lefty, T.J. Smitty, Wayne Kunz.

Always cheerful in the morning, Lefty poured me a big cup of coffee. I handed him a dollar and sat down at the nearest table. A small television situated on the counter, rattled off the morning news and traffic reports. They were showing the national radar when the first newscaster broke in. In the minutes that followed we didn't know what we were looking at. After that no one could believe it.

Hardly anyone came out to the fair that day. At seven o'clock in the evening, right after the lights on the midway had been turned on, all the ride jocks stopped their rides and stood facing the Skywheel for a few minutes in a mutual show of respect to those whose lives had changed forever that morning, while we were all at roll call.