October 17th, 2011
Published by: mooresb
Growing Up Inside University School Growing Up Inside University School October 17th, 2011
A great many books have been written about America's Laboratory Schools. For the most part these books examine the school as an institution. University School Historian Robert Butche breaks new ground by approaching the University School experience from the student's perspective -- and not just any student, but Butche himself. Craig Kridel, Professor of Education History and Curriculum Theory at the University of North Carolina suggested the idea to Robert Butche and Paul Klohr, former Director of the University School, in the spring of 2004. Although Kridel and Butche spoke of a book that would trace several student experiences that could be interwoven with archival materials about their schooling, there were many problems. Concerns about privacy, consistent writing style and presentation soon made clear that a multi-student story had many potential problems. By Summer, Paul Klohr had a better idea. Butche should write a detailed autobiography of his own childhood, organized by grade level. The autobiographical materials, Klohr argued, should reveal in great detail what was happening in young Robert's life. Overlaid on Robert's story would be his complete and unexpurgated quarterly reports as well as information from the vertical file kept on all students who attended University School. The resulting book, Klohr and Butche agreed, would also contain descriptions of the University School system, philosophical model, methods and comments about what the biographical-achievement information said about the school, its faculty, and its contributions to the life of one student examined every step of the way from the first grade through graduation in 1954. Excerpt from Fourth Grade From this time on, my penchant for traveling Frost’s road less traveled, would take me places and engage me in activities far beyond the ordinary. One of my first adventures came later this same year when one of my dad’s Masonic organizations, the Achbar Grotto, sponsored an off-season circus as a way of fund raising. The cost of renting acts was substantial, so the managers sought to use lodge volunteers wherever possible. Most of the men were needed for ticket sales, ushers, and other administrative tasks, so none volunteered for several vacant clown positions. When my dad and his brothers
were discussing this problem one night in our front room, I volunteered. My dad thought this a bad idea, but my uncle Walter pressed forward. Soon, I was named an official clown for the five day run of the circus. My act would be me and our small cocker-terrier named Zoonie. The other clowns were very helpful with teaching me how to use the zinc-oxide makeup. My costume was made of clothes mom deemed ready for the trash. It took me a couple of nights to get the hang of clowning, but by the first weekend performance, Friday night, I was familiar with our activities and roles. I worked hard to earn the respect of the professional clowns and they recognized my efforts by naming me to break in a one-night clown for Friday night. Although I had heard the name from adults, I neither knew nor recognized the most famous newspaper figure of the time, Johnny Jones, of the Columbus Dispatch.
Columnist Johnny Jones with Robert Butche Photo: Columbus Dispatch Jones was an affable and friendly man, full of fun and anxious to learn from his experiences and to later write about them. I taught him how to design and apply his clown makeup. The head clown, Emmett Kelley, one of the most famous in the American Circus world, told me to help Jones put on black-face makeup. In the clown world the black face clowns, like Emmett Kelley, are the sad faced. Black face makeup covers less of the body, is mouth oriented, and takes far less time to apply because there is no white foundation. I gave it my best, but in the end, one of the other clowns had to help get Johnny Jones looking like a clown. Johnny Jones was a great deal of fun that night.
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October 17th, 2011
Published by: mooresb
Shortly after we began the grand parade that opened the circus, the announcer identified Johnny Jones and his friend, Bobby Butche. The crowd roared, and my mom loved it – but even I knew it was Johnny Jones the crowd was recognizing, not me. Emmett Kelly Photo: Clown Hall of Fame By the time the circus ended on Saturday night, I loved being part of the show. I had come to know the animal people, and I had discovered the other kids in the show, or who traveled with their parents in the off-season. The clowns invited me to join their regular act the next year when they were in the Ohio region. For months I dreamed of being in the big tent with the Ringling Brothers Barnum and Baily Circus as it traveled all over the Midwest. Mom put the kabash on me being on the road all summer, but I did get to play the show when it was in Columbus, and one afternoon in Canton. The next fall, Achbar Grotto sponsored a Rodeo in Columbus and I was invited to clown with them. While I loved the rodeo format, the work of a Rodeo Clown was far different from what I learned from the Ringling trained clowns. Circus clowns are for diversion, crowd interaction and comedy. Rodeo clowns play a far different role for they are charged with protecting the bull riders. Although clowns make their safety role appear comical to the audience, Rodeo clowning is very serious business. Once a rider is thrown, he is in danger of being attacked by an angry bull. The job of the clowns is to confuse and divert the bull. The only safety for the clowns is outrunning, confusing or disappearing from view. When the first two don’t work, the only way for the clown to avoid getting gored is to jump into a safety barrel just large enough for a man to get into. Sometimes the clown’s disappearance confuses the bull, but very often the angry animal is not fooled and charges the barrel. The barrel is therefore the clown’s last choice for avoiding the charging bull. The first night I was charged the barrel was on the other side of the bull. Inexperienced as I was, I decided to race the bull to the safety fence. From the moment I began to run I knew I was in trouble, but then I had yet to discover how much faster a person can run when being charged by an angry bull. Both mom and dad were in the Coliseum that night. When I made it safely to the side fence and scrambled above the bull’s level, the ring announcer exclaimed, “. . . Never saw a clown run so fast in my life. So, at the end of the first event, it’s Fat Boy one and bull zero . . . “
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