Schlitzie (alternatively spelled "Schlitze" or "Shlitze"; September 10, 1901 (or c. 1892) – September 24, 1971), possibly born Simon Metz, and legally Schlitze Surtees, was a American sideshow performer and occasional actor, best known for his role in the 1932 movie Freaks and his life-long career on the outdoor entertainment circuit as a major sideshow attraction with Barnum and Bailey, among others.
I turned 18 in August of 1965. I had a job that summer working for Conklin and Garrett Shows at the Canadian National Exhibition in Toronto, where I lived with my family and attended high-school. It was there that I first came to know Schlitzie, who was billed as "The Missing Link" on the midway sideshow. It would break my heart - and piss me off - to see him abused by so-called "normal people" in the audience. He was taunted mercilessly and had bottles and lit cigarettes thrown at him.
ReplyDeleteWhen the show moved on to London and the Western Ontario Fair, I went along. You might say I was dissatisfied with life at home and at school. I figured life with the carnival would beat the hell out of Grade 13. The carnies stayed at the Clarendon Hotel on the tenderloin. I had a room next to that of Schlitzie's and his guardian, Frenchy - a former lion-tamer and sword-swallower. He claimed to be a "Gypsy prince" and sported an impressive ring to bolster this claim. I had no reason to disbelieve him. At night, we would all hang out together after a long day on the fairgrounds, maybe play some cards and just relax. Frenchy would drive us all to work, stopping off first each day to pick up a bottle at one of the government-run liquor stores, which would be closed after the carnival shut down for the night. One time, Frenchy stopped the car in front of a pawn shop displaying knives and swords in the window. He wanted to go inside and swallow a sword. "To keep in practice," he said. Schlitzie and I lingered in the car for a few extra moments, waiting for the song on the radio to finish. He loved music and would rock and wave his hands to the rhythm and tap me on the arm, saying? "You see?"
When we entered the shop, hand-in-hand, I observed Frenchy cleaning a sword with a handkerchief and some liquid from a small bottle
and then proceed to swallow it. The two elderly women running the place gasped in horror and disbelief. When they turned and saw me (sporting rather long hair for the times) and Schlitzie (dressed in his mu-mu) I could see the blood drain from their faces. Frenchy thanked them for the use of the sword and we continued on our way to work. Later, I would see Frenchy practice his art using a straightened coat-hanger from the hotel closet, disinfecting it first, of course.
Schlitzie, like all children, craved tenderness and affection. He would snuggle up to me and I would put my arms around him. This simple contact and just plain warmth caused him to moan and sob. I was too young and inexperienced at the time to fully grasp the totality of what he must have been feeling. Once, Frenchy saw me giving him a hug and told me (gently) not to do so in the future, explaining to me that Schlitzie would come to want these embraces all the time and that he would just never let me go. Reluctantly, I did as I was told.
I'm 63 now, and across the many years and over all the miles, I've never forgotten Schlitzie and Frenchy and the days I "ran away with the circus."
Wolf Krakowski
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