I was recently reminded of this story (and several others) by a dear friend. I am not telling you the exact one she suggested, but another one from then. Thank you, my friend, for the reminder. I miss you and hope you are well.
Anyway, it was the summer of my junior year in college. I had the opportunity to work at a summer camp in the Adirondacks. In many ways, it was one of the best summers I ever had. I got to make music all summer, be around talented music students of all ages, and spend every day on a beautiful lake in the heart of the Adirondack mountains. And I got paid!
This camp had many opportunities for both campers and counselors. One experience I did not initially think would be all that important to me was a fully functioning circus with trapeze and all the bells and whistles (except maybe animals). The circus staff was a wonderful group of people (especially Tammy and Susan; I remain friends with Tammy today!).
I have never been especially athletic, especially in the upper body department (marching band kept me toned in the legs). One day, Tammy offered for counseling staff to try the trapeze one evening. After some gentle prodding by the circus staff, I acquiesced. Getting into the trapeze net was its own unique experience—eight or ten feet in the air and no ladder. You have to flip your body over your head to get in. It took several tries and an assist from Tammy and Susan, but eventually, I was in the net.
That alone would have been plenty for me. It was a neat experience laying on the neat suspended 10 feet in the air but still with a complete view of the ground. The gentle bounce of the net as you lay there was oddly soothing. Walking in a trapeze net is more challenging, partly because you are barefoot (no shoes in the trapeze net).
I was content to stay in the net. Tammy and Susan were not content for me to stay in the net as I got prodded to try the trapeze. I conceded again against my better judgement, more just to quiet the two of them.
After getting the harness on, getting to the trapeze platform is no easier than getting into the net. There is no elevator, and instead of a traditional ladder, there is a rope ladder, which was much more difficult for me. After a few tries, I eventually reached the trapeze platform, some 20 feet above the net (30 feet above the ground).
The trapeze platform is not large. If memory serves, it is about wide enough for two small people, and I am not small! As far as your feet, this platform was not big enough to fit the entire length of my foot.so either my toes or heels were hanging off at any given moment.
Tammy was on the ground holding my safety line, and Susan was on the platform explaining the whole process. What little I remember is this:
Susan handed me the bar to be held in one hand (the bar weighs something like 40 pounds).
I swung the bar to be held in the other hand while still being on the platform (Susan was behind me, holding my waist so I didn't fall off the platform)
Susan counts to three, and I step off the platform while still holding the bar.
Seems simple enough, right?
Step one only took two tries, and I succeeded with step two in one try. Then Susan started counting. Three came and went, and I was still on the platform. Susan re-explained the rules and began counting again. Three passed a second time without incident, and I remained on the platform. I had gotten quite comfortable on the platform and had no desire to step off my small spot of safety.
With no explanation, Susan began counting. This time, when she reached three, something different happened. I felt a gentle push from behind me, and I was no longer on the platform. I was swinging through the air. It was mostly a blur, and I believe I let out a well-supported singer's scream the entire time I was swinging through the air.
You would think this is the end of the story, but I still need to get off the bar. As much as I did not want to come off the platform, I had become comfortable with my newfound safety, hanging on to that bar for dear life. I recall hearing Tammy explain from the ground.
"I am going to count to three. On three, let go of the bar," she said. "No [expletive] way I am letting go of this bar, that doesn't make any sense," I thought. She counted. Three came and went, and I was still on the bar, but the swinging arc had decreased significantly. She explained the rule again and began counting. Three came and went again.
Had it not been for Tammy's next action, I might still be on that trapeze bar today, some 20 years later. But she counted to three, and as she approached three, she tugged my safety line. I couldn't maintain my grip on the bar and fell safely into the net. The experience might have been three or four minutes from start to finish, but it felt like an eternity. However, I was safe. I had climbed, swung, and returned to the net without incident.
I would willingly go in the trapeze a couple more times that summer. I spent most of my free time around the circus. In all likelihood, if I had the opportunity to do it again, I most definitely would. I learned a valuable lesson that summer, especially that night. Sometimes in your life, you will be asked or convinced to do something that scares you a lot. But there are always people you can count on to walk you through it, push you when needed, and be there to keep you safe. I have kept in touch with Tammy over the years. I lost touch with Susan. However, I will never forget the strength they helped me find in myself.
Who are your Tammy and Susan?
Be well!
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