Carnival act goes awry for performer

A carnival magician whose schtick was to balance a heavy anvil on his chest and then allow members of the audience to hit it with a sledgehammer rued his choice of career on May 21, 1931, after the act took a sudden, and perhaps not unexpected, turn.

The magician, Jack Rabclown, had been entertaining the crowd with the usual array of sideshow acts, such as swallowing glass and carpet tacks, during a carnival held in Pendleton. Rabclown was lying prone on the ground with the anvil on his chest, demonstrating his main attraction, and invited a spectator from the crowd to take aim at the anvil. Swinging the hammer with all his strength, the spectator was horrified when it glanced off the anvil and landed on the magician's abdomen.

Mr. Rabclown was taken to St. Anthony Hospital and treated for serious injuries.

War effort aided by young metal collectors

The year: May 1942. The program: scrap metal collection for the war effort. The major players: Bobby and Dick Newman of Umatilla County.

Many tons of scrap iron were collected and shipped from Umatilla County in the 1940s as part of the war effort to supply metals for the manufacture of munitions and other materials. The most precious ton and a half of metal donated to the effort, however, was collected by two brothers from ranchlands in the middle Cold Springs area between Hermiston and Pendleton.

On early May of 1942, J.L. Dunham drove into Pendleton with a load of 3,000 pounds of scrap iron on his truck, accompanied by nephew, 6-year-old Bobby Newman. The youngster, assisted by his 4-year-old brother Dick, had spent two months locating and hauling scrap iron from ditches and gullies on their uncle's farm.

The boys would locate a piece of iron, long abandoned, and then transport it in their wagon to Mr. Dunham's ranch house. And since some of the pieces of iron were rather large — at least for boys their age — the ton and a half of metal represented a huge investment of work and sweat.

An East Oregonian reporter was on hand at Joe Luck's place in Pendleton when Dunham and Newman were helping unload the truck, and found Bobby in a willing, but modest, mood. He happily posed for a photo with some of the scrap he helped collect, but was disappointed that his brother, who couldn't come to town, wasn't in the photo.

"Did you help them?" the reporter asked Dunham.

"Not a bit of it," Dunham replied. "Those kids did it all themselves."

How could the Axis hope to beat that kind of spirit?

Six-year-old Bobby Newman of Cold Springs in Umatilla County poses with some of the 3,000 pounds of scrap iron he and his brother, 4-year-old Dick, collected over a period of two months in the spring of 1942 to aid the war effort. (EO file photo)

Balloon aeronaut fails to wow Independence Day crowds

An advertisement from the June 30, 1906, East Oregonian for a balloonist trapeze act taking part in the annual Fourth of July festivities in Pendleton.

 

 

In 1906, in the days before the Pendleton Round-Up, the city's biggest to-do of the year was staged on the Fourth of July. A novel acrobatic act was scheduled for the day-long festivities: a balloonist who performed on a trapeze 1,500 feet in the air and then parachuted to safety on the ground.

The Fourth of July committee pulled out all the stops for the annual event, scheduling a full day of activities for old and young alike. The event began at 7 a.m. with a cannon blast, followed by a parade at 10 a.m. with prizes for the best decorated wheel, best makeup and best sustained character during the parade, and the ugliest float during an afternoon Plug Ugly parade.

Six hours of races and athletic events, dances, and performances by bands from the Pendleton Eagles Lodge, Pilot Rock and Milton ran throughout the day. The local fire department staged hose cart races and other competitions. And a bronco busting contest, held at the city stockyards, boasted $50 prizes for the champion riders.

An illuminated parade featuring members of the fraternal organizations from all over the region also offered prizes of$25 for the lodge with the best float, and $15 for the order having the best showing during the parade.

But one event was a complete bust: the balloon ascension. Aeronaut Paul, as he styled himself, was unable to get his craft off the ground because the balloon would not hold the hot air needed for the ascension.

Paul, describing the balloon as faulty in shape, made a second attempt at his ascension on July 5 after removing 10 feet from the bottom of the craft. Taking off from the O.R. & N. train depot, he climbed aboard his trapeze with the intention of performing his act before a large crowd that had gathered to watch the performance a few minutes after 8 p.m.

In only a few moments, however, it was clear that the balloon again was leaking hot air, as the craft began to droop. As it passed over the railroad's roundhouse the balloonist hit the roof with a thud. At the same time, the ropes hit a guy wire and Paul was forced to let go of his swing. After it had passed over the wire he was unable to catch it again, and the balloon sailed away toward the west end of town, where it landed in the backyard of a house, catching on the chimney as it passed and pulling it down. The balloon crumpled, leaking hot air and smoke out of a tear in the fabric.

The owner of the house, John Van Orsdall, presented a bill to the Fourth of July Committee for $16, to pay for the damage to his chimney. He also retained the balloon in his possession as security for his loss.

On July 15, after securing permission from the Fourth of July Committee to use his confiscated balloon, 

Aeronaut Paul made another attempt, this time launching from the baseball grounds. The balloon, well filled, rose in the air with Paul swinging from his trapeze for about 50 feet. The craft then began to descend again, and touched down within just a few minutes, to the disappointment of the crowd at the ballfields and the residents watching from the surrounding hills.

Frustrated with his failures to achieve a proper ascent, Aeronaut Paul packed up his bags and left town.

Pendleton residents get too-close view of Mt. St. Helens eruption

Four Pendleton residents in Eastern Washington for a rodeo got an up-close-and-personal look at the ash cloud that covered most of the state after the eruption of Mt. St. Helens in May of 1980.

Jim Bosworth, Paul Rogers, Mike Bosworth and Gary Cunnington were traveling to Longview from Yakima on May 18, 1980, after attending a rodeo in the central Washington city. About 50 miles from Yakima, "the sky got a strange black ... not like a rain cloud," Jim Bosworth said.

Then the ground shook. The four heard rumbling, and the sky turned a reddish orange.

The group traveled another half mile before the sky turned pitch black, and by then they could not only see the volcanic ash hitting the car, they could hear it, too.

Unable to pick up a radio station, they continued on another five miles, hoping they would drive out from under the ash and smoke. But soon they decided to turn around and head back to Yakima. Twice they stopped to try to call friends in Yakima to tell them they were all right, but the phone lines were jammed.

During their nightmare drive, one person in the car drove while the other three gave directions — "You're too far to the right"; "A little left" — as they crawled toward Yakima. They had covered the 50 miles toward Longview in about an hour, but the return trip took them 6½ hours.

The four returned to Pendleton on May 19 with an ash-covered car, two first places from the Yakima rodeo — Cunnington in bareback riding and Rogers in bull riding — and a bucketful of ash.

After reporting their experience to the East Oregonian, they headed for home to give the car a thorough washing.

Pendleton Apartment manager Bob Maxwell displays ash deposited on his car as he traveled through Eastern Washington May 18 and 19, 1980, during the Mt. St. Helens eruption (EO file photo).