It was quite a while ago when I was probably about eleven or twelve years old. Freddie Johnson and I were at the county fair. We always looked forward to it. It was a chance to get out of school early and ride the amusement rides. How could you not have fun on such things as the Wild Mouse, the Cyclone, the Rocket, and our most favorite - - the Bumper Cars. Of course there were other things to see that we just didn't have in our home town.
It was a beautiful fall afternoon in late September, and all seemed right with the world. Freddie and I were at the fair and each had two dollars. Mama said we could be on our own like big boys. I wasn't real sure what she meant by "like big boys", and I didn't ask. I wouldn't want to give her a chance to change her mind. We had already figured out how far our money would go on rides and were headed for the midway. Actually, I had figured it out. I was a year older and a lot better at arithmetic than Freddie. It was going to be a great day, and we had three hours before we had to meet Mama back at the church booth where she was working. The music was coming from the Merry-go-round, and we could smell cotton candy and popcorn. We heard a sound like a siren on a firetruck.
"Let's see what that is," Freddie said, and he started to run.
Since I was bigger and taller I didn't have any trouble keeping up with Freddie as we raced toward the shrill of the siren. We ran past tents that had funny looking animals. Some had some really strange looking people too. There was one place that had this sort of stage with women on it. They had these sparkly little bitty bathing suits on. The man on the stage with them was talking through a loudspeaker saying, "Step right up, Gents. See somethin' you ain't never seen before!"
I don't know what it was, but there was a whole lot of men there, and I believe one of them was Uncle Bill.
We kept right on running til we got to the sound of the siren, which stopped right before we got there. A little crowd of men and boys were in front of this stage that had a man with a loudspeaker and two men with motorcycles on it. Behind it was a tall tent with a big banner saying, "The Wall of Death". It had a picture of a skeleton riding a motorcycle, and it was on fire. I'd never seen anything like it. I elbowed Freddie. The fellows with the motorcycles had on their riding britches and brown high boots. And they both had on brown leather jackets and brown leather aviator helmets. One of the men cranked a motorcycle with a kick starter. Boy, was it loud. "Is that a Harley-Davidson?" Freddie asked.
"I don't know, " says I. "I never saw but one motorcycle before. Me and Daddy was at the seed store one time, and Mr. Carlisle rode by. I think it was a Harley-Davidson, but it had big saddlebags and a windshield. These don't got no saddlebags or windshield."
"I b'lieve that one has an Indian chief's picture on the gas tank," said Freddie.
The rider put the back wheel of the motorcycle on a pair of rollers and hopped on the seat. He revved up the motor, and the rollers turned the siren which made a deafening sound. All this time the man with the loudspeaker was telling us how dangerous the Wall of Death was and how easy it was to get killed riding on it. But captains Brown and Seigler, he said, had been in the war, were afraid of nothing, and would ride through the gates of hell itself. (I could never tell Mama what he said 'cause she would wallop me for saying "hell".) He said it was only fifty cents to see the show, and this could be the last one, because the riders just might get killed doing this stunt.
Freddie and me paid our money and climbed up the steps to the inside of the tent. There was a wooden wall made in a circle about twenty feet across and chest high. We could barely see over the wall. Inside the wall was a pit, kinda like a well, about twenty feet deep and sloping in a little bit at the bottom. The floor looked like it was wood too. There was a little door to the side and the captains pushed their motorcycles into the bottom of the pit. Capt. Seigler cranked his motorcycle first. Something fell off it with a clunk. "What was that?" I asked.
"That was just the kick starter. It don't keep it from running," answered my buddy.
"Wonder what he's gonna do now?" I thought.
The rider gunned the engine, and the motorcycle began to climb and gained speed going around the wall. Soon the motorcycle seemed to be flying around the wall, which would move a bit with the weight of the machine. He was riding the motorcycle only about a foot from the top of the wall. And then he took his hands off the handlebars and held his arms straight out. The crowd cheered. I didn't cheer. I was holding onto a steel cable that held the wall together. My knuckles were white. Some of the men held up one dollar bills and the rider would lean over and snatch them from their hands. Down at the bottom of the wall Capt. Brown was cranking up his motorcycle. He lit out up the wall and commenced to race with the other rider. Round and round they would go chasing each other and passing each other. They put on quite a show. Both riders hit the brakes of their machines, and they came down off the wall quickly.
Freddie and I climbed down the stairs knowing we had seen something few of our classmates had. We took a short cut between the wall of death and another tent. One of the motorcycle riders was leaning up against a post with his helmet off and jacket open. He had a pint whiskey bottle in his hand and was taking a long drink. The man put the cap back on the bottle and stuck it in his jacket
as he saw us. "You kids like the show?" he asked.
"Yessir, we sure did!" we said together.
"Good, come back again, " he said as he turned to go back into the tent.
We walked along a little ways in silence and then I said, "You reckon Mama would let me ride a motorcycle like that?"
Freddie thought a minute and then said, "Naw, she won't even let you drink."
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