t ta 5.15, and tragedy is etched in Ruhr face. Mary Lou has crashed to concrete floor before his eyes
"Fm Going Back on the Trapeze!"
(Continued from page 5)
He looked at me as if I were just another fresh
brat, but Home of the want inside of me must
have reflected on my face because he waved me
up. I was unsure and uncoordinated on the rig
ging but not afraid. I hated to come down be
cause I thought I'd never soar so high again. But
another performer was waiting below for me.
"Would you like to be an aerialist?" he asked.
"Before you answer, remember, you must be will
ing to accept rigid discipline and hard work."
I didn't hesitate. This was Willie Hustrei talk
ing to me, a member of a world-renowned aerialist
family and a master teacher. Soon I was living
with his mother in California. The family had
aerial rigging in their back yard, and for months
they schooled me. Thanks to the Hustreis' pa
tience, I was able to join Willie in a duo act. It
seemed as if everything I ever wanted was mine
now. Then after one of our performances, Willie
slid gracefully down from the high wire and be
gan to walk off. Suddenly he slumped to the saw
duBt and died of a heart attack.
MY first thought was that part of me had
died, too. But circus people have taught me
wise things. One is that a teacher like Willie never
dies: instead he goes on in his pupils' perform
ances. Like generations of circus people before
him, Willie had passed on some of his great abil
ity. So I went back to the kind Hustrei family and
they helped me prepare a solo act
Willie had once told me: "If you do things
right, you will always be safe." But at the Madi
son show I had not done something right. And I
had no idea what it was. All I could tell people
was that "I goofed." I knew that was not enough
for a professional. Somebody would have to fill
in the blank for me before I could go back up
if I could go back up.
I looked at the crucifix and said another prayer.
I knew now that my mother and father were anx
iously at my side and had been for days. As I be
came better, they told me they were caring for
Thunder and also that I had been in a coma when
Mother Rose gave me the cross; apparently my
mother described the scene to me when I was
semiconscious, and it became so meaningful to me
that it had become like a real experience.
I learned, too, that I had a fractured shoulder
and broken ribs and pelvis. I had slid heels-first
across the concrete and collided with the grand
stand. (I never work with a net. Like many aerial
ists, I don't think they help much in my fall, for
instance, momentum catapulted me far beyond
the reach of any net.) My head had whiplashed
back on the hard floor and had been severely frac
tured. For days I had been near death, and even
now it was uncertain how fully I would recover.
For a while that thought haunted me. Then one
day I told my mother:
"I'm going to get well. I'm going back up!"
But my first attempts to move frightened me.
My limbs seemed detached from my body. And I
still couldn't form sentences well, much less
lengthy thoughts. I lay in bed exhausted by my
first efforts, staring from crucifix to ceiling to
wall. Then I remembered something else Willie
had said when we first stepped into the Hustreis'
yard to begin my long training:
"Have faith in God and confidence in people,
and you don't have to be afraid."
I fell Feb. 15. It was April before I could walk
much. Meanwhile, I was deluged with letters from
people telling of their prayers for me. Technicians
from the movie "Jumbo," in which I had worked,
wrote to me; so did show-business and circus
people I'd never met A little girl in Germany
sent "the trapeze lady" a colored drawing of flow
ers and explained : "I do not have much money to
send you flowers, so I have drawn these for you."
"Rave confidence in people . t ." Willie had said.
One day a young teacher from the University
of Wisconsin visited my hospital room. She taught
calisthenics and asked me about some points in
tumbling. I tried to explain but didn't do too well.
Finally, I almost leaped across the bed "Oh, if
I could only nhow you what I mean!"
Right then I knew I could show her. My body
had healed; I could feel its strength and limber
ness as I stood before her. But I knew, too, that
excitement or strain could cause irreparable dam
age to my brain. I must hold myself back for
months more. More patience, more prayer.
Now, however, I had the courage to look for the
answer to my "goof." I turned to a good friend,
Larry Ruhl. He and a long-time friend of mine,
Sandy Winters, form the act of "Michele & Mi
chael," a top aerial duo who sometimes perform
from helicopters. At the time of my accident,
Larry had been below controlling the lines to my
rig. Nobody had been closer or was more expert
Larry was now on the road, but he wrote immedi
ately to my query.
"Remember the morning of the accident?" Lar
ry said. "Sandy, you, and I had breakfast Then
you and I went over to inspect your new rigging.
I told you it would be a good idea to work out on
it because you had a new crane bar with ball
bearing hangers. This naturally would increase
the tempo of your swing. You agreed and worked
out but you didn't try a roll out
"Mary Lou, I'll never forget that afternoon. I
was holding your cable and looking up. The mo
ment you started the dislocation I knew it would
be impossible to hang on. I couldn't look then I
ran to you.
"The saddest thing I ever did in my life was to
return to the arena and take down your trapeze.
When I put it away, I wondered if you would ever
use it again. Now I know you will. A real perform
er doesn't give up because of a buster, and you're
a real performer in every sense of the word.
"And believe me, you didn't 'goof.' The unex
pected physical force that built up in those ball
bearing hangers was just too much for any per
former to handle."
So now the tormenting blank spot had been
filled in.
ABOUT this TIME I began collaborating on this
L story. In interviews before, I had been con
fused. I would stammer, repeat, forget But
as I worked on this article, I came to realize that
was no longer true. All the fragments fitted to
gether agan and I could translate thoughts into
words. What a wonderful discovery that simple
thing is ! I guess that was one of the tests because
three months after the fall, my doctor said:
"You can go home Sunday. You need more rest
but you can get that with your parents."
And Bill Kay, the circus producer, called from
his headquarters in Sarasota, Fla., and said:
"Mary Lou, we're opening in Eau Claire in July.
We want you on the program if you can make it."
I told Bill I didn't know about that "Well," he
said, "if not Eau Claire, then some other town
soon after. We're waiting for you."
I packed all the wonderful letters and said good-:
bye to the many people in Madison who !;ad helped
me. One of the last things I did was untie the
crucifix that I had turned to so often. It had been
part of Mother Rose's own habit, and I felt it
must have special meaning to her, as it did to me.
When I offered to return it though, she said :
"It isn't mine now. It belongs to you."
It did, too. Just as Willie saidr ". . . have faith
in God, and you don't have to be afraid."
I don't know how long it will be before I hear
the announcer introducing "The Hollywood Sky
rocket" But it will be soon. Meanwhile, old les
sons have taken on new importance for me.
family Wrkly. Jan 90, lffcl