19 of 48 DOCUMENTS
The Indianapolis Star
September 5, 2002 Thursday Online Edition
Making the trip to 'the pile'
BYLINE: By Tom Spalding tom.spalding@indystar.com
SECTION: INDYSTAR.COM;
LENGTH: 859 words
Reporter Tom Spalding, who spent six days with Indiana Task Force 1, recalls a trip to the heart of the disaster.
The first time I see 'the pile,' I'm hunched in the back of a minivan.
It's around 3 p.m. Thursday, Sept. 13 -- some 53 hours after the sprawling World Trade Center complex is leveled by suicide hijackers who crash two planes into the twin towers' upper floors.
Rescue workers dub the heap of debris the pile.
I had plenty of notes from hours of interviews with members of Indiana Task Force 1, whom photographer Mpozi Mshale Tolbert and I are following. But access to Ground Zero eluded us for a variety of reasons -- until now.
Two search dogs and their handlers are summoned for an assignment not far from the intersection of Park Avenue and Broadway, where building No. 7 once stood. We ask to go, and they say yes.
I'm not prepared. I have on dress shoes and lack eye protection and a dust mask. But we hop into a six-seat red van with emergency red lights on top. I cram into the back, my heart racing, as we drive the three miles to Ground Zero.
It is as if this part of New York is a construction site on a hot summer day, and we are driving through a cloud of dirt particles. Everything is the same color, like somebody haphazardly spilled beige paint everywhere.
Along Hudson Street and Broadway, the cars parked at the curb are flattened, some upside down on top of other cars. Ash is piled up to their tires and it looks like an Indiana street after a heavy snowstorm.
We drive in a zig-zag fashion through checkpoint after checkpoint on the streets that aren't damaged, and none of the traffic cops can give us the exact directions, or unimpeded access, to the crash site.
One of the cops defends his lack of knowledge, telling our driver, "I'm from the Bronx."
Another rescue worker sees the IFD on our red van and yells to us, "You drove all the way from Indianapolis? We appreciate it."
In the van are three members of Indiana Task Force 1: a transportation aide, and the two dog handlers.
One of the handlers, Marti Vanada of Newburgh, Ind., sees two women holding a U.S. flag, which are selling like hot cakes around the city.
"The patriotism is amazing," she says.
I keep taking notes, but I'm in the back of the van, perched in kind of an awkward kneel so I can see outside. I remember noting how calm Vanada's dog Polly is. I remember Lebanon, Ind., native Tony Zintsmaster stroking his German shepherd Kaiser, who is not bothered by the chaos.
Past the checkpoints, the scene is so busy that the authorities have no time to do anything but suggest ways to combat a heavy layer of dust, asbestos parti-cles and other irritants that fall like windswept flurries.
We reach our destination. Vanada and Zintsmaster and the dogs walk toward what's left of building No. 7. It is lying like bent cardboard; the exterior of six or seven floors is intact, simply because it can't lean in on itself any further. I realize that the dust mask I wear, which attaches above my nose and under my mouth, would work better with two thick straps rather than a thin blue rubber-band.
I see lots of people without masks, so caught up with adrenaline they aren't protecting themselves from possible airborne dangers.
Our driver, Jason Silvey, is a stocky 30-year-old truck driver with a blonde goatee. He is considering smoking a cigarette amid all that floating ash, but thinks better of it. He's worked the Federal Emergency Management Agency in dis-asters before. But this event had made him very nervous. He is not wearing any kind of protection. He's in shorts, dressed as though he is ready to zip off to an Indianapolis Indians game.
I can only imagine what stories he is going to tell friends back home in In-diana.
"This is just blowing my mind ... I'm completely amazed," Silvey tells me. "Everything's just flat ... just to get here and breathe the air, it lets you know."
I scribble more furiously, and he tells me: "I would rather be here than at home, being upset and mad. At least I am here doing my part, trying to help."
We chat a bit a little more as the dog handlers fade from view. I had de-serted the safety of the transport van to see if I could see anything beyond building No. 7. I can't. It's too dusty, too large, and I plan on coming back again for another look. As we drive back to the base camp I am thankful for the chance to get a snippet of detail for our readers back in Indianapolis.
So many people ask me what it was like, and I sense envy in their voices be-cause they didn't get to see it. Take some comfort. I was in the shoes of most of our readers before that Sept. 13 trip to the pile.
I can remember asking Jim Riley, a New Jersey firefighter serving on that state's FEMA task force, what it was like.
Riley looked at me and described it as if it were ingredients in some recipe. Concrete. Steel beams. Body parts.
"You saw it on TV. You know what the deal was."
Call Tom Spalding at 1-317-327-7939.
_______________________________________________
Library Note: This story was published on the IndyStar.com website, but was not printed in The Indianapolis Star.
LOAD-DATE: October 6, 2002
LANGUAGE: ENGLISH
Copyright 2002 The Indianapolis Star
All Rights Reserved
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Monday, September 6, 2010
FAMILY PICKS UP ON CIRCUS LEGACY TODAY IN DETROIT,
FAMILY PICKS UP ON CIRCUS LEGACY TODAY IN DETROIT, THE NEW WALLENDAS WILL PERFORM THE 7-PERSON PYRAMID ACT FOR THE FIRST TIME IN 21 YEARS.
Sarasota Herald-Tribune (FL) - Friday, March 6, 1998
Author: Tom Spalding STAFF WRITER
Shortly before other performers straddled horses or paraded costumed llamas into the circus ring Thursday, Tino Wallenda-Zoppe talked about the beast his own family has to tame.
Quiet reflection and concentration may normally be how the hours prior to a public performance are spent. But the Flying Wallendas , the famous high-wire specialists from Sarasota, found themselves fielding question after question from reporters.
For the first time in 21 years, the Wallendas today will perform the seven-person pyramid, a five-minute act that left two of the troupe dead and three injured during a performance Jan. 30, 1962.
It isn't just the feat; it's the same family, resurrecting the same act at the same location - the Michigan State Fair Coliseum - 25 feet above the ground without a net. The family has performed the stunt three times since the accident, but not in Detroit since 1962.
No wonder the cameras are rolling.
``I'll be watching and kind of holding my breath to make sure they survive,'' said Joseph Ritok, 80, a Detroit man who was an usher when the fall occurred 36 years ago.
It was a disaster detailed in the next day's newspapers, front-page news complete with pictures and banner headlines.
``When that pyramid collapsed, it was like slow motion,'' remembers Ritok, who as the usher helped break one performer's fall. ``A picture like that stays with you forever.''
He's still working with the circus, as a volunteer, and will be there to witness the pyramid again.
On Thursday, the smell of hot dogs and popcorn were in the air at the 90th Moslem Shrine Circus, where the crowd will be entertained by trapeze artists, strongmen and a Russian horse-riding act.
But the showstoppers will be the Wallendas , who will perform at least twice a day for the next 17 days for about 200,000 people.
``A repeat performance the world's been waiting for,'' reads a circus poster in the arena. If all goes well, the Wallendas will continue performing the pyramid on tour.
The Wallendas feel the undercurrent of tension but say they aren't fearful. They've graciously responded to the obvious questions like ``What are you trying to prove?'' and ``Are you nervous?'' They've relished the spotlight provided this week by - among others - ``Hard Copy,'' ``Inside Edition,'' ABC's ``Good Morning America'' and a Hollywood film crew making a documentary.
``I don't think we're here to prove anything to ourselves. We know we can do it. But to the world, we're here to make a statement,'' Wallenda-Zoppe said. ``We're here to re-establish our legacy in circus history.''
A deadly fall
The Wallendas will, as tradition dictates, walk above a concrete floor without a net.
They expect nothing to go wrong.
It was much the same Jan. 30, 1962. Wearing white satin with green spangles and led by family patriarch Karl Wallenda, the Flying Wallendas had built the pyramid and were moving in formation to the platform when Dieter Schepp, Karl Wallenda's nephew, who was on the bottom tier, reportedly lost his footing and fell, toppling the pyramid.
Schepp and Richard Faughnan, Karl Wallenda's son-in-law, were killed. Mario Wallenda, Karl's son, also fell to the sawdust- and straw-covered floor. He was paralyzed.
Gunther, Karl and Herman Wallenda grabbed the wire and Karl snared Jana Schepp - Dieter's sister, who had been sitting in a chair at the top of the pyramid - as she fell. Karl Wallenda held on to Schepp until people on the ground could find a net.
The crowd of 7,000 gasped in disbelief.
Dick Mayer, a Detroit resident and frequent visitor to Longboat Key, had gone to the circus that night with two of his children.
``It was horrifying to see. You knew up there, without the net, they'd be injured or killed,'' he said. ``I'm sure everybody there realized that.''
Alex Brown, 77, of Detroit said circus organizers ``were dumbfounded. They didn't know what to say. When they found out two were dead, it was worse.''
Circus clowns quickly ran onto the coliseum floor to try to keep the crowd calm.
In the midst of such tragedy, according to news accounts, Karl told his wife: ``I feel like a dead man on the ground. I can handle the grief better from up there. The wire is my life.''
So the Wallendas regrouped and performed the trick the next night. They did it again on two subsequent occasions, in 1963 in Texas and in 1977 in Sarasota, re-created primarily by Karl's grandchildren at Robarts Arena in Sarasota for the movie ``The Great Wallendas .''
At Robarts, after the last member of the pyramid made it to the safety of the platform, with 2,000 people watching in amazement, Karl Wallenda was asked if he had been nervous. He responded by displaying his noticeably damp palm.
He also said the act would never happen again.
But the new Wallendas - 13 family members, friends and loved ones of the original performers - got together 11/2 years ago to try again. The organizers of the Moslem Shrine Circus, celebrating a 90th anniversary, urged them to come back.
``Maybe some will think it's morbid, because we are celebrating the anniversary of their fall,'' said Bill Petrocy, the circus' director. ``In fact, we are celebrating a totally new act by the grandchildren.''
The new Wallendas acted no differently Thursday than they have in the months of practice leading up to the first performances, at noon and 7 p.m. today at the arena near Interstate 75.
``You can't go up there with the mind-set, `They fell; well, are we going to fall?' '' said Nikolas Wallenda-Troffer, 19, one of the Wallendas performing today. ``If I wasn't 100 percent confident, I wouldn't go up there. I have no doubt that we're going to conquer, that we're going to make it through the 17 days.''
`Great' before they were ` flying '
The Wallenda name is the stuff of circus history.
Family patriarch Karl Wallenda, born in Germany in 1905, was performing in the family circus show at 6 and doing stunts at beer halls by age 11. In 1922, he recruited his brother Herman, a teen-age girl named Helen - who later became his wife - and Josef Geiger, an aerialist, into the act.
They toured Europe for several years, featuring an amazing four-person, three-level pyramid.
In that pyramid, Karl precariously balanced on a chair on top of a bar between the shoulders of two men on bicycles on a wire 50 feet in the air while Helen stood on Karl's shoulders. The act was such a sensation that when John Ringling saw them performing in Cuba, he immediately contracted them to appear with the ``Greatest Show on Earth.''
The Great Wallendas debuted their act without a net - it had been misplaced in shipping - at Madison Square Garden in 1928.
The Great Wallendas were headliners with Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus much of the 1930s and 1940s. One performance, in Akron, Ohio, the wire slipped. All four fell to the ground but were unhurt.
A reporter wrote that they seemed to be flying so the headline read: ``The Flying Wallendas .''
In 1947, Karl began a circus of his own. At the Wallendas ' Sarasota home that winter, he created the crowning achievement - the seven-person pyramid that became a staple until 1962.
It's essentially the same formula the 1998 troupe will use.
Four men stand on a taut cable tethered to vertical platforms 44 feet apart. On the cable, the two pairs are yoked together by shoulder bars. On top of the bars, on the second level, stand two more performers, again yoked together with a shoulder bar. At the top of the pyramid, sits a person in a chair who stands briefly.
The group walks once across the wire. The top of the pyramid, the lightest person of the group, is 40 feet from the ground.
Then, if all goes as planned, applause.
Flying Wallendas today
Karl Wallenda is no longer around. He fell 120 feet to his death in 1978 at the age of 73 during a promotional wire walk in San Juan, Puerto Rico.
His descendants, the sixth and seventh generations, kept a legacy alive by learning the daunting high-wire.
The current Flying Wallendas include: Tino Wallenda-Zoppe, Terry Troffer, Nikolas Wallenda-Troffer, Sacha Pavlata, Alida Wallenda, Tony Hernandez, Delilah Wallenda, Lijana Wallenda, Rietta Wallenda, Aurelia Wallenda-Zoppe, Dieter Galumbo, Andrea Wallenda-Zoppe, and Alex Wallenda-Zoppe, who at 9 is the youngest in the act.
``I've given them a few tips,'' said Mario Wallenda, 57, in a wheelchair as a result of the 1962 fall. Mario called them ``crazy,'' but he understands their passion to perform.
The director of Florida State University's Flying High Circus, Richard Brinson, calls the pyramid ``an awesome trick, absolutely incredible, probably one of the most difficult of all circus tricks throughout history.''
Sarasota Sailor Circus high-wire trainer Charlie Hartery notes that with four high-wire walkers on the cable, trying to keep balance while bearing the weight of three people, ``it is fairly dangerous.''
That's why national media are here.
The Wallendas , performer Alida Wallenda said, have motivation beyond showing the world that ``our family just didn't quit after the fall.''
``We want to leave Detroit with triumph rather than tragedy.''
Caption: PHOTO 2 DRAWING 3 (C)
The Flying Wallendas polish their Grand Pyramid act with a dress rehearsal Thursday at the Michigan State Fairgrounds in Detroit. Two family members died and three were injured during a performance of the stunt in the same arena in 1962. AP PHOTO The Jan. 30, 1962, tragedy was detailed in the next day's papers.
Though there are 13 members of the Flying Wallendas , seven will perform in the first show today. Tino Wallenda-Zoppe (7), Terry Troffer (4), Nikolas Wallenda-Troffer (5), Sacha Pavlatta (6), Alida Wallenda (2), Tony Hernandez (3), and either Deliah Wallenda or Lijana Wallenda (1). How It's Done Working without a safety net or safety ropes, four performers begin to walk straight on a taut cable smaller in width than their shoes; the lowest performers stand some 25 feet from a concrete floor, with the top performer (1) in a chair about 40 feet in the air It's toughest on the first row; performers not only have to keep their balance and move in sync, but also hold the weight of three people. The first performer (4) leaves the elevated post yoked with performer (5), walking out with performer (2) standing on a bar at the second level. The remaining four performers line up on the platform and walk out almost simultaneously to complete the pyramid. STAFF GRAPHIC/LIMBERT FABIAN
Sarasota Herald-Tribune (FL) - Friday, March 6, 1998
Author: Tom Spalding STAFF WRITER
Shortly before other performers straddled horses or paraded costumed llamas into the circus ring Thursday, Tino Wallenda-Zoppe talked about the beast his own family has to tame.
Quiet reflection and concentration may normally be how the hours prior to a public performance are spent. But the Flying Wallendas , the famous high-wire specialists from Sarasota, found themselves fielding question after question from reporters.
For the first time in 21 years, the Wallendas today will perform the seven-person pyramid, a five-minute act that left two of the troupe dead and three injured during a performance Jan. 30, 1962.
It isn't just the feat; it's the same family, resurrecting the same act at the same location - the Michigan State Fair Coliseum - 25 feet above the ground without a net. The family has performed the stunt three times since the accident, but not in Detroit since 1962.
No wonder the cameras are rolling.
``I'll be watching and kind of holding my breath to make sure they survive,'' said Joseph Ritok, 80, a Detroit man who was an usher when the fall occurred 36 years ago.
It was a disaster detailed in the next day's newspapers, front-page news complete with pictures and banner headlines.
``When that pyramid collapsed, it was like slow motion,'' remembers Ritok, who as the usher helped break one performer's fall. ``A picture like that stays with you forever.''
He's still working with the circus, as a volunteer, and will be there to witness the pyramid again.
On Thursday, the smell of hot dogs and popcorn were in the air at the 90th Moslem Shrine Circus, where the crowd will be entertained by trapeze artists, strongmen and a Russian horse-riding act.
But the showstoppers will be the Wallendas , who will perform at least twice a day for the next 17 days for about 200,000 people.
``A repeat performance the world's been waiting for,'' reads a circus poster in the arena. If all goes well, the Wallendas will continue performing the pyramid on tour.
The Wallendas feel the undercurrent of tension but say they aren't fearful. They've graciously responded to the obvious questions like ``What are you trying to prove?'' and ``Are you nervous?'' They've relished the spotlight provided this week by - among others - ``Hard Copy,'' ``Inside Edition,'' ABC's ``Good Morning America'' and a Hollywood film crew making a documentary.
``I don't think we're here to prove anything to ourselves. We know we can do it. But to the world, we're here to make a statement,'' Wallenda-Zoppe said. ``We're here to re-establish our legacy in circus history.''
A deadly fall
The Wallendas will, as tradition dictates, walk above a concrete floor without a net.
They expect nothing to go wrong.
It was much the same Jan. 30, 1962. Wearing white satin with green spangles and led by family patriarch Karl Wallenda, the Flying Wallendas had built the pyramid and were moving in formation to the platform when Dieter Schepp, Karl Wallenda's nephew, who was on the bottom tier, reportedly lost his footing and fell, toppling the pyramid.
Schepp and Richard Faughnan, Karl Wallenda's son-in-law, were killed. Mario Wallenda, Karl's son, also fell to the sawdust- and straw-covered floor. He was paralyzed.
Gunther, Karl and Herman Wallenda grabbed the wire and Karl snared Jana Schepp - Dieter's sister, who had been sitting in a chair at the top of the pyramid - as she fell. Karl Wallenda held on to Schepp until people on the ground could find a net.
The crowd of 7,000 gasped in disbelief.
Dick Mayer, a Detroit resident and frequent visitor to Longboat Key, had gone to the circus that night with two of his children.
``It was horrifying to see. You knew up there, without the net, they'd be injured or killed,'' he said. ``I'm sure everybody there realized that.''
Alex Brown, 77, of Detroit said circus organizers ``were dumbfounded. They didn't know what to say. When they found out two were dead, it was worse.''
Circus clowns quickly ran onto the coliseum floor to try to keep the crowd calm.
In the midst of such tragedy, according to news accounts, Karl told his wife: ``I feel like a dead man on the ground. I can handle the grief better from up there. The wire is my life.''
So the Wallendas regrouped and performed the trick the next night. They did it again on two subsequent occasions, in 1963 in Texas and in 1977 in Sarasota, re-created primarily by Karl's grandchildren at Robarts Arena in Sarasota for the movie ``The Great Wallendas .''
At Robarts, after the last member of the pyramid made it to the safety of the platform, with 2,000 people watching in amazement, Karl Wallenda was asked if he had been nervous. He responded by displaying his noticeably damp palm.
He also said the act would never happen again.
But the new Wallendas - 13 family members, friends and loved ones of the original performers - got together 11/2 years ago to try again. The organizers of the Moslem Shrine Circus, celebrating a 90th anniversary, urged them to come back.
``Maybe some will think it's morbid, because we are celebrating the anniversary of their fall,'' said Bill Petrocy, the circus' director. ``In fact, we are celebrating a totally new act by the grandchildren.''
The new Wallendas acted no differently Thursday than they have in the months of practice leading up to the first performances, at noon and 7 p.m. today at the arena near Interstate 75.
``You can't go up there with the mind-set, `They fell; well, are we going to fall?' '' said Nikolas Wallenda-Troffer, 19, one of the Wallendas performing today. ``If I wasn't 100 percent confident, I wouldn't go up there. I have no doubt that we're going to conquer, that we're going to make it through the 17 days.''
`Great' before they were ` flying '
The Wallenda name is the stuff of circus history.
Family patriarch Karl Wallenda, born in Germany in 1905, was performing in the family circus show at 6 and doing stunts at beer halls by age 11. In 1922, he recruited his brother Herman, a teen-age girl named Helen - who later became his wife - and Josef Geiger, an aerialist, into the act.
They toured Europe for several years, featuring an amazing four-person, three-level pyramid.
In that pyramid, Karl precariously balanced on a chair on top of a bar between the shoulders of two men on bicycles on a wire 50 feet in the air while Helen stood on Karl's shoulders. The act was such a sensation that when John Ringling saw them performing in Cuba, he immediately contracted them to appear with the ``Greatest Show on Earth.''
The Great Wallendas debuted their act without a net - it had been misplaced in shipping - at Madison Square Garden in 1928.
The Great Wallendas were headliners with Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus much of the 1930s and 1940s. One performance, in Akron, Ohio, the wire slipped. All four fell to the ground but were unhurt.
A reporter wrote that they seemed to be flying so the headline read: ``The Flying Wallendas .''
In 1947, Karl began a circus of his own. At the Wallendas ' Sarasota home that winter, he created the crowning achievement - the seven-person pyramid that became a staple until 1962.
It's essentially the same formula the 1998 troupe will use.
Four men stand on a taut cable tethered to vertical platforms 44 feet apart. On the cable, the two pairs are yoked together by shoulder bars. On top of the bars, on the second level, stand two more performers, again yoked together with a shoulder bar. At the top of the pyramid, sits a person in a chair who stands briefly.
The group walks once across the wire. The top of the pyramid, the lightest person of the group, is 40 feet from the ground.
Then, if all goes as planned, applause.
Flying Wallendas today
Karl Wallenda is no longer around. He fell 120 feet to his death in 1978 at the age of 73 during a promotional wire walk in San Juan, Puerto Rico.
His descendants, the sixth and seventh generations, kept a legacy alive by learning the daunting high-wire.
The current Flying Wallendas include: Tino Wallenda-Zoppe, Terry Troffer, Nikolas Wallenda-Troffer, Sacha Pavlata, Alida Wallenda, Tony Hernandez, Delilah Wallenda, Lijana Wallenda, Rietta Wallenda, Aurelia Wallenda-Zoppe, Dieter Galumbo, Andrea Wallenda-Zoppe, and Alex Wallenda-Zoppe, who at 9 is the youngest in the act.
``I've given them a few tips,'' said Mario Wallenda, 57, in a wheelchair as a result of the 1962 fall. Mario called them ``crazy,'' but he understands their passion to perform.
The director of Florida State University's Flying High Circus, Richard Brinson, calls the pyramid ``an awesome trick, absolutely incredible, probably one of the most difficult of all circus tricks throughout history.''
Sarasota Sailor Circus high-wire trainer Charlie Hartery notes that with four high-wire walkers on the cable, trying to keep balance while bearing the weight of three people, ``it is fairly dangerous.''
That's why national media are here.
The Wallendas , performer Alida Wallenda said, have motivation beyond showing the world that ``our family just didn't quit after the fall.''
``We want to leave Detroit with triumph rather than tragedy.''
Caption: PHOTO 2 DRAWING 3 (C)
The Flying Wallendas polish their Grand Pyramid act with a dress rehearsal Thursday at the Michigan State Fairgrounds in Detroit. Two family members died and three were injured during a performance of the stunt in the same arena in 1962. AP PHOTO The Jan. 30, 1962, tragedy was detailed in the next day's papers.
Though there are 13 members of the Flying Wallendas , seven will perform in the first show today. Tino Wallenda-Zoppe (7), Terry Troffer (4), Nikolas Wallenda-Troffer (5), Sacha Pavlatta (6), Alida Wallenda (2), Tony Hernandez (3), and either Deliah Wallenda or Lijana Wallenda (1). How It's Done Working without a safety net or safety ropes, four performers begin to walk straight on a taut cable smaller in width than their shoes; the lowest performers stand some 25 feet from a concrete floor, with the top performer (1) in a chair about 40 feet in the air It's toughest on the first row; performers not only have to keep their balance and move in sync, but also hold the weight of three people. The first performer (4) leaves the elevated post yoked with performer (5), walking out with performer (2) standing on a bar at the second level. The remaining four performers line up on the platform and walk out almost simultaneously to complete the pyramid. STAFF GRAPHIC/LIMBERT FABIAN
FLYING WALLENDAS : TROUPE RISES TO THE OCCASION PERFORMERS SOAR IN DETROIT
FLYING WALLENDAS : TROUPE RISES TO THE OCCASION PERFORMERS SOAR IN DETROIT
Sarasota Herald-Tribune (FL) - Saturday, March 7, 1998
Author: Tom Spalding STAFF WRITER
A clown walked over to the man in the wheelchair, next to some aged bleachers with chipped green paint, and put his arm around his shoulder.
``You taught them well,'' said the clown, a man named Happy who wore a white jumpsuit, a big red nose and a face covered with makeup.
Mario Wallenda, 57, who was paralyzed when he fell from a tightrope 36 years ago, smiled.
He had reason to be proud.
His friends and relatives in the new Flying Wallendas had just completed the high-wire trick that permanently injured him - a seven-person pyramid 25 feet above the ground without a net.
``I was scared,'' said Wallenda, who took Polaroid snapshots of the performance.
At the Moslem Shrine Circus, 3,000 people watched in awe, then gave a standing ovation for the performers who had not performed that stunt publicly in Detroit since the Flying Wallendas ' pyramid collapsed here Jan. 30, 1962.
Two members of the troupe died in that accident.
The pyramid was created for a performance only three times after the crash - until Friday. The new Flying Wallendas are 13 Sarasotans who are descendants, friends or loved ones of the original performers.
Cal Purvin, 75, who witnessed the fatal accident, returned to the State Fair Coliseum to see the new Flying Wallendas perform.
``Look at 'em,'' the Michigan man said as they dazzled the crowd. ``If that's not nerves . . . .''
The Wallendas ' two performances Friday were promoted in newspaper ads, on television and on billboards throughout the Detroit area. The performance drew national media attention and a documentary film crew.
Other circus performers said they didn't feel upstaged.
``It's to be expected, particularly with the public with the Wallendas - and rightfully so,'' said Dolly Jacobs, of Sarasota, who performs in the circus with an acrobatic act that includes the rings.
She and her sister watched the Wallendas ' rehearse Thursday and she made a point to catch at least a part of Friday's performances.
``It was very impressive, all the people up there . . . we had tears in our eyes,'' she said.
Before the act began, the Wallendas - the women dressed in white outfits, the men in black tuxedos - gathered in a circle. A pastor led them in prayer. Flying Wallenda leader Tino Wallenda-Zoppe uttered, ``Everybody take courage.''
In the darkness, the 13 troupe members moved into the first performance ring and one by one climbed up to the elevated platform and waited for another act - tigers jumping through a fiery hoop - to finish.
After some more hoopla, the spotlight was turned on them. On the wire, members of the Flying Wallendas walked backward, stood on a bicycle or on their heads.
Then came the pyramid, a technically dangerous stunt - the showstopper. The Wallendas were a bit ``nervous'' and shaky during the rehearsal Thursday, but they worked out the kinks for Friday's premiere.
The seven performers - four walking the wire, two on their shoulders and one in a chair on top - moved 44 feet across the high wire.
Now, it's on to 36 more performances in Detroit through March 22, then to a show in St. Louis. Other performances are pending. The Wallendas plan to keep on performing long after the cameras go, pleasing the people they most like - the audience.
Purvin, who witnessed the '62 fall, said the first thing he thought of after Friday's performance was, ``Great job. They lived.''
Sarasota Herald-Tribune (FL) - Saturday, March 7, 1998
Author: Tom Spalding STAFF WRITER
A clown walked over to the man in the wheelchair, next to some aged bleachers with chipped green paint, and put his arm around his shoulder.
``You taught them well,'' said the clown, a man named Happy who wore a white jumpsuit, a big red nose and a face covered with makeup.
Mario Wallenda, 57, who was paralyzed when he fell from a tightrope 36 years ago, smiled.
He had reason to be proud.
His friends and relatives in the new Flying Wallendas had just completed the high-wire trick that permanently injured him - a seven-person pyramid 25 feet above the ground without a net.
``I was scared,'' said Wallenda, who took Polaroid snapshots of the performance.
At the Moslem Shrine Circus, 3,000 people watched in awe, then gave a standing ovation for the performers who had not performed that stunt publicly in Detroit since the Flying Wallendas ' pyramid collapsed here Jan. 30, 1962.
Two members of the troupe died in that accident.
The pyramid was created for a performance only three times after the crash - until Friday. The new Flying Wallendas are 13 Sarasotans who are descendants, friends or loved ones of the original performers.
Cal Purvin, 75, who witnessed the fatal accident, returned to the State Fair Coliseum to see the new Flying Wallendas perform.
``Look at 'em,'' the Michigan man said as they dazzled the crowd. ``If that's not nerves . . . .''
The Wallendas ' two performances Friday were promoted in newspaper ads, on television and on billboards throughout the Detroit area. The performance drew national media attention and a documentary film crew.
Other circus performers said they didn't feel upstaged.
``It's to be expected, particularly with the public with the Wallendas - and rightfully so,'' said Dolly Jacobs, of Sarasota, who performs in the circus with an acrobatic act that includes the rings.
She and her sister watched the Wallendas ' rehearse Thursday and she made a point to catch at least a part of Friday's performances.
``It was very impressive, all the people up there . . . we had tears in our eyes,'' she said.
Before the act began, the Wallendas - the women dressed in white outfits, the men in black tuxedos - gathered in a circle. A pastor led them in prayer. Flying Wallenda leader Tino Wallenda-Zoppe uttered, ``Everybody take courage.''
In the darkness, the 13 troupe members moved into the first performance ring and one by one climbed up to the elevated platform and waited for another act - tigers jumping through a fiery hoop - to finish.
After some more hoopla, the spotlight was turned on them. On the wire, members of the Flying Wallendas walked backward, stood on a bicycle or on their heads.
Then came the pyramid, a technically dangerous stunt - the showstopper. The Wallendas were a bit ``nervous'' and shaky during the rehearsal Thursday, but they worked out the kinks for Friday's premiere.
The seven performers - four walking the wire, two on their shoulders and one in a chair on top - moved 44 feet across the high wire.
Now, it's on to 36 more performances in Detroit through March 22, then to a show in St. Louis. Other performances are pending. The Wallendas plan to keep on performing long after the cameras go, pleasing the people they most like - the audience.
Purvin, who witnessed the '62 fall, said the first thing he thought of after Friday's performance was, ``Great job. They lived.''
FAMILY PICKS UP ON CIRCUS LEGACY TODAY
FAMILY PICKS UP ON CIRCUS LEGACY TODAY IN DETROIT, THE NEW WALLENDAS WILL PERFORM THE 7-PERSON PYRAMID ACT FOR THE FIRST TIME IN 21 YEARS.
Sarasota Herald-Tribune (FL) - Friday, March 6, 1998
Author: Tom Spalding STAFF WRITER
Shortly before other performers straddled horses or paraded costumed llamas into the circus ring Thursday, Tino Wallenda-Zoppe talked about the beast his own family has to tame.
Quiet reflection and concentration may normally be how the hours prior to a public performance are spent. But the Flying Wallendas , the famous high-wire specialists from Sarasota, found themselves fielding question after question from reporters.
For the first time in 21 years, the Wallendas today will perform the seven-person pyramid, a five-minute act that left two of the troupe dead and three injured during a performance Jan. 30, 1962.
It isn't just the feat; it's the same family, resurrecting the same act at the same location - the Michigan State Fair Coliseum - 25 feet above the ground without a net. The family has performed the stunt three times since the accident, but not in Detroit since 1962.
No wonder the cameras are rolling.
``I'll be watching and kind of holding my breath to make sure they survive,'' said Joseph Ritok, 80, a Detroit man who was an usher when the fall occurred 36 years ago.
It was a disaster detailed in the next day's newspapers, front-page news complete with pictures and banner headlines.
``When that pyramid collapsed, it was like slow motion,'' remembers Ritok, who as the usher helped break one performer's fall. ``A picture like that stays with you forever.''
He's still working with the circus, as a volunteer, and will be there to witness the pyramid again.
On Thursday, the smell of hot dogs and popcorn were in the air at the 90th Moslem Shrine Circus, where the crowd will be entertained by trapeze artists, strongmen and a Russian horse-riding act.
But the showstoppers will be the Wallendas , who will perform at least twice a day for the next 17 days for about 200,000 people.
``A repeat performance the world's been waiting for,'' reads a circus poster in the arena. If all goes well, the Wallendas will continue performing the pyramid on tour.
The Wallendas feel the undercurrent of tension but say they aren't fearful. They've graciously responded to the obvious questions like ``What are you trying to prove?'' and ``Are you nervous?'' They've relished the spotlight provided this week by - among others - ``Hard Copy,'' ``Inside Edition,'' ABC's ``Good Morning America'' and a Hollywood film crew making a documentary.
``I don't think we're here to prove anything to ourselves. We know we can do it. But to the world, we're here to make a statement,'' Wallenda-Zoppe said. ``We're here to re-establish our legacy in circus history.''
A deadly fall
The Wallendas will, as tradition dictates, walk above a concrete floor without a net.
They expect nothing to go wrong.
It was much the same Jan. 30, 1962. Wearing white satin with green spangles and led by family patriarch Karl Wallenda, the Flying Wallendas had built the pyramid and were moving in formation to the platform when Dieter Schepp, Karl Wallenda's nephew, who was on the bottom tier, reportedly lost his footing and fell, toppling the pyramid.
Schepp and Richard Faughnan, Karl Wallenda's son-in-law, were killed. Mario Wallenda, Karl's son, also fell to the sawdust- and straw-covered floor. He was paralyzed.
Gunther, Karl and Herman Wallenda grabbed the wire and Karl snared Jana Schepp - Dieter's sister, who had been sitting in a chair at the top of the pyramid - as she fell. Karl Wallenda held on to Schepp until people on the ground could find a net.
The crowd of 7,000 gasped in disbelief.
Dick Mayer, a Detroit resident and frequent visitor to Longboat Key, had gone to the circus that night with two of his children.
``It was horrifying to see. You knew up there, without the net, they'd be injured or killed,'' he said. ``I'm sure everybody there realized that.''
Alex Brown, 77, of Detroit said circus organizers ``were dumbfounded. They didn't know what to say. When they found out two were dead, it was worse.''
Circus clowns quickly ran onto the coliseum floor to try to keep the crowd calm.
In the midst of such tragedy, according to news accounts, Karl told his wife: ``I feel like a dead man on the ground. I can handle the grief better from up there. The wire is my life.''
So the Wallendas regrouped and performed the trick the next night. They did it again on two subsequent occasions, in 1963 in Texas and in 1977 in Sarasota, re-created primarily by Karl's grandchildren at Robarts Arena in Sarasota for the movie ``The Great Wallendas .''
At Robarts, after the last member of the pyramid made it to the safety of the platform, with 2,000 people watching in amazement, Karl Wallenda was asked if he had been nervous. He responded by displaying his noticeably damp palm.
He also said the act would never happen again.
But the new Wallendas - 13 family members, friends and loved ones of the original performers - got together 11/2 years ago to try again. The organizers of the Moslem Shrine Circus, celebrating a 90th anniversary, urged them to come back.
``Maybe some will think it's morbid, because we are celebrating the anniversary of their fall,'' said Bill Petrocy, the circus' director. ``In fact, we are celebrating a totally new act by the grandchildren.''
The new Wallendas acted no differently Thursday than they have in the months of practice leading up to the first performances, at noon and 7 p.m. today at the arena near Interstate 75.
``You can't go up there with the mind-set, `They fell; well, are we going to fall?' '' said Nikolas Wallenda-Troffer, 19, one of the Wallendas performing today. ``If I wasn't 100 percent confident, I wouldn't go up there. I have no doubt that we're going to conquer, that we're going to make it through the 17 days.''
`Great' before they were ` flying '
The Wallenda name is the stuff of circus history.
Family patriarch Karl Wallenda, born in Germany in 1905, was performing in the family circus show at 6 and doing stunts at beer halls by age 11. In 1922, he recruited his brother Herman, a teen-age girl named Helen - who later became his wife - and Josef Geiger, an aerialist, into the act.
They toured Europe for several years, featuring an amazing four-person, three-level pyramid.
In that pyramid, Karl precariously balanced on a chair on top of a bar between the shoulders of two men on bicycles on a wire 50 feet in the air while Helen stood on Karl's shoulders. The act was such a sensation that when John Ringling saw them performing in Cuba, he immediately contracted them to appear with the ``Greatest Show on Earth.''
The Great Wallendas debuted their act without a net - it had been misplaced in shipping - at Madison Square Garden in 1928.
The Great Wallendas were headliners with Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus much of the 1930s and 1940s. One performance, in Akron, Ohio, the wire slipped. All four fell to the ground but were unhurt.
A reporter wrote that they seemed to be flying so the headline read: ``The Flying Wallendas .''
In 1947, Karl began a circus of his own. At the Wallendas ' Sarasota home that winter, he created the crowning achievement - the seven-person pyramid that became a staple until 1962.
It's essentially the same formula the 1998 troupe will use.
Four men stand on a taut cable tethered to vertical platforms 44 feet apart. On the cable, the two pairs are yoked together by shoulder bars. On top of the bars, on the second level, stand two more performers, again yoked together with a shoulder bar. At the top of the pyramid, sits a person in a chair who stands briefly.
The group walks once across the wire. The top of the pyramid, the lightest person of the group, is 40 feet from the ground.
Then, if all goes as planned, applause.
Flying Wallendas today
Karl Wallenda is no longer around. He fell 120 feet to his death in 1978 at the age of 73 during a promotional wire walk in San Juan, Puerto Rico.
His descendants, the sixth and seventh generations, kept a legacy alive by learning the daunting high-wire.
The current Flying Wallendas include: Tino Wallenda-Zoppe, Terry Troffer, Nikolas Wallenda-Troffer, Sacha Pavlata, Alida Wallenda, Tony Hernandez, Delilah Wallenda, Lijana Wallenda, Rietta Wallenda, Aurelia Wallenda-Zoppe, Dieter Galumbo, Andrea Wallenda-Zoppe, and Alex Wallenda-Zoppe, who at 9 is the youngest in the act.
``I've given them a few tips,'' said Mario Wallenda, 57, in a wheelchair as a result of the 1962 fall. Mario called them ``crazy,'' but he understands their passion to perform.
The director of Florida State University's Flying High Circus, Richard Brinson, calls the pyramid ``an awesome trick, absolutely incredible, probably one of the most difficult of all circus tricks throughout history.''
Sarasota Sailor Circus high-wire trainer Charlie Hartery notes that with four high-wire walkers on the cable, trying to keep balance while bearing the weight of three people, ``it is fairly dangerous.''
That's why national media are here.
The Wallendas , performer Alida Wallenda said, have motivation beyond showing the world that ``our family just didn't quit after the fall.''
``We want to leave Detroit with triumph rather than tragedy.''
Sarasota Herald-Tribune (FL) - Friday, March 6, 1998
Author: Tom Spalding STAFF WRITER
Shortly before other performers straddled horses or paraded costumed llamas into the circus ring Thursday, Tino Wallenda-Zoppe talked about the beast his own family has to tame.
Quiet reflection and concentration may normally be how the hours prior to a public performance are spent. But the Flying Wallendas , the famous high-wire specialists from Sarasota, found themselves fielding question after question from reporters.
For the first time in 21 years, the Wallendas today will perform the seven-person pyramid, a five-minute act that left two of the troupe dead and three injured during a performance Jan. 30, 1962.
It isn't just the feat; it's the same family, resurrecting the same act at the same location - the Michigan State Fair Coliseum - 25 feet above the ground without a net. The family has performed the stunt three times since the accident, but not in Detroit since 1962.
No wonder the cameras are rolling.
``I'll be watching and kind of holding my breath to make sure they survive,'' said Joseph Ritok, 80, a Detroit man who was an usher when the fall occurred 36 years ago.
It was a disaster detailed in the next day's newspapers, front-page news complete with pictures and banner headlines.
``When that pyramid collapsed, it was like slow motion,'' remembers Ritok, who as the usher helped break one performer's fall. ``A picture like that stays with you forever.''
He's still working with the circus, as a volunteer, and will be there to witness the pyramid again.
On Thursday, the smell of hot dogs and popcorn were in the air at the 90th Moslem Shrine Circus, where the crowd will be entertained by trapeze artists, strongmen and a Russian horse-riding act.
But the showstoppers will be the Wallendas , who will perform at least twice a day for the next 17 days for about 200,000 people.
``A repeat performance the world's been waiting for,'' reads a circus poster in the arena. If all goes well, the Wallendas will continue performing the pyramid on tour.
The Wallendas feel the undercurrent of tension but say they aren't fearful. They've graciously responded to the obvious questions like ``What are you trying to prove?'' and ``Are you nervous?'' They've relished the spotlight provided this week by - among others - ``Hard Copy,'' ``Inside Edition,'' ABC's ``Good Morning America'' and a Hollywood film crew making a documentary.
``I don't think we're here to prove anything to ourselves. We know we can do it. But to the world, we're here to make a statement,'' Wallenda-Zoppe said. ``We're here to re-establish our legacy in circus history.''
A deadly fall
The Wallendas will, as tradition dictates, walk above a concrete floor without a net.
They expect nothing to go wrong.
It was much the same Jan. 30, 1962. Wearing white satin with green spangles and led by family patriarch Karl Wallenda, the Flying Wallendas had built the pyramid and were moving in formation to the platform when Dieter Schepp, Karl Wallenda's nephew, who was on the bottom tier, reportedly lost his footing and fell, toppling the pyramid.
Schepp and Richard Faughnan, Karl Wallenda's son-in-law, were killed. Mario Wallenda, Karl's son, also fell to the sawdust- and straw-covered floor. He was paralyzed.
Gunther, Karl and Herman Wallenda grabbed the wire and Karl snared Jana Schepp - Dieter's sister, who had been sitting in a chair at the top of the pyramid - as she fell. Karl Wallenda held on to Schepp until people on the ground could find a net.
The crowd of 7,000 gasped in disbelief.
Dick Mayer, a Detroit resident and frequent visitor to Longboat Key, had gone to the circus that night with two of his children.
``It was horrifying to see. You knew up there, without the net, they'd be injured or killed,'' he said. ``I'm sure everybody there realized that.''
Alex Brown, 77, of Detroit said circus organizers ``were dumbfounded. They didn't know what to say. When they found out two were dead, it was worse.''
Circus clowns quickly ran onto the coliseum floor to try to keep the crowd calm.
In the midst of such tragedy, according to news accounts, Karl told his wife: ``I feel like a dead man on the ground. I can handle the grief better from up there. The wire is my life.''
So the Wallendas regrouped and performed the trick the next night. They did it again on two subsequent occasions, in 1963 in Texas and in 1977 in Sarasota, re-created primarily by Karl's grandchildren at Robarts Arena in Sarasota for the movie ``The Great Wallendas .''
At Robarts, after the last member of the pyramid made it to the safety of the platform, with 2,000 people watching in amazement, Karl Wallenda was asked if he had been nervous. He responded by displaying his noticeably damp palm.
He also said the act would never happen again.
But the new Wallendas - 13 family members, friends and loved ones of the original performers - got together 11/2 years ago to try again. The organizers of the Moslem Shrine Circus, celebrating a 90th anniversary, urged them to come back.
``Maybe some will think it's morbid, because we are celebrating the anniversary of their fall,'' said Bill Petrocy, the circus' director. ``In fact, we are celebrating a totally new act by the grandchildren.''
The new Wallendas acted no differently Thursday than they have in the months of practice leading up to the first performances, at noon and 7 p.m. today at the arena near Interstate 75.
``You can't go up there with the mind-set, `They fell; well, are we going to fall?' '' said Nikolas Wallenda-Troffer, 19, one of the Wallendas performing today. ``If I wasn't 100 percent confident, I wouldn't go up there. I have no doubt that we're going to conquer, that we're going to make it through the 17 days.''
`Great' before they were ` flying '
The Wallenda name is the stuff of circus history.
Family patriarch Karl Wallenda, born in Germany in 1905, was performing in the family circus show at 6 and doing stunts at beer halls by age 11. In 1922, he recruited his brother Herman, a teen-age girl named Helen - who later became his wife - and Josef Geiger, an aerialist, into the act.
They toured Europe for several years, featuring an amazing four-person, three-level pyramid.
In that pyramid, Karl precariously balanced on a chair on top of a bar between the shoulders of two men on bicycles on a wire 50 feet in the air while Helen stood on Karl's shoulders. The act was such a sensation that when John Ringling saw them performing in Cuba, he immediately contracted them to appear with the ``Greatest Show on Earth.''
The Great Wallendas debuted their act without a net - it had been misplaced in shipping - at Madison Square Garden in 1928.
The Great Wallendas were headliners with Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus much of the 1930s and 1940s. One performance, in Akron, Ohio, the wire slipped. All four fell to the ground but were unhurt.
A reporter wrote that they seemed to be flying so the headline read: ``The Flying Wallendas .''
In 1947, Karl began a circus of his own. At the Wallendas ' Sarasota home that winter, he created the crowning achievement - the seven-person pyramid that became a staple until 1962.
It's essentially the same formula the 1998 troupe will use.
Four men stand on a taut cable tethered to vertical platforms 44 feet apart. On the cable, the two pairs are yoked together by shoulder bars. On top of the bars, on the second level, stand two more performers, again yoked together with a shoulder bar. At the top of the pyramid, sits a person in a chair who stands briefly.
The group walks once across the wire. The top of the pyramid, the lightest person of the group, is 40 feet from the ground.
Then, if all goes as planned, applause.
Flying Wallendas today
Karl Wallenda is no longer around. He fell 120 feet to his death in 1978 at the age of 73 during a promotional wire walk in San Juan, Puerto Rico.
His descendants, the sixth and seventh generations, kept a legacy alive by learning the daunting high-wire.
The current Flying Wallendas include: Tino Wallenda-Zoppe, Terry Troffer, Nikolas Wallenda-Troffer, Sacha Pavlata, Alida Wallenda, Tony Hernandez, Delilah Wallenda, Lijana Wallenda, Rietta Wallenda, Aurelia Wallenda-Zoppe, Dieter Galumbo, Andrea Wallenda-Zoppe, and Alex Wallenda-Zoppe, who at 9 is the youngest in the act.
``I've given them a few tips,'' said Mario Wallenda, 57, in a wheelchair as a result of the 1962 fall. Mario called them ``crazy,'' but he understands their passion to perform.
The director of Florida State University's Flying High Circus, Richard Brinson, calls the pyramid ``an awesome trick, absolutely incredible, probably one of the most difficult of all circus tricks throughout history.''
Sarasota Sailor Circus high-wire trainer Charlie Hartery notes that with four high-wire walkers on the cable, trying to keep balance while bearing the weight of three people, ``it is fairly dangerous.''
That's why national media are here.
The Wallendas , performer Alida Wallenda said, have motivation beyond showing the world that ``our family just didn't quit after the fall.''
``We want to leave Detroit with triumph rather than tragedy.''
Flying Wallendas
By TOM SPALDING
and TRICIA HOPKINS
NEW YORK TIMES
SARASOTA, Fla. ‑ Mario Wallenda shook his head as seven loved ones practiced the same high‑wire trick that put him in a wheelchair 36 years ago.
“I think they're all crazy,” the 57‑year‑old said Thursday as the group rehearsed in north Sarasota. Wallenda was a member of the renown Flying Wallendas, a troupe of circus performers whose unique seven person pyramid across a tightrope dazzled audiences worldwide until February 1962
That's when the pyramid collapsed during a performance in Detroit. Two members were killed. Mario, the adopted son of family patriarch Karl Wallenda, was paralyzed.
Next week, a new group of Flying Wallendas is returning to Detroit with the hope of exorcising a circus demon. Thirteen people, all related by blood marriage or friendship to the 1962 Wallendas, will begin a 1‑night performance starting March 6 in the Moslem Shrine Circus.
They plan to perform the seven‑person pyramid.
Since the fatal pyramid performance, the Flying Wallendas performed the act only twice but never in Detroit, and not since 1977. Now, the pyramid will be a regular highlight of the Wallenda performances.
“I could sit here and talk them out of it until I'm blue in the face,” Mario Wallenda said. “Anticipation that something might happen? Yes. I'm running out of relatives.”
Family member Tino Wallenda‑Zoppe, one of the new performers, thought up the idea a year and a half ago and recruited or welcomed relatives and friends of the family.
The new troupe also includes Terry Troffer, Nikolas Wallenda‑Troffer, Sacha Pavlata, Alida Wallenda, Tony Hernandez, Delilah Wallenda, Lijana Wallenda, Rietta Wallenda, Aurelia Wallenda‑Zoppe, Dieter Galumbo, Andrea Wallenda‑Zoppe and Alex Wallenda-Zoppe, who at 9 is the youngest, in the act.,
In the pyramid stunt four people line up single file at the end of one platform, standing on thin wire 25 feet above the ground. The four hold two bars across their shoulders.
Two people then stand on the bars, and a third person – in a, chair – gets on top. The group walks about 30 feet across the wire – without a net.
“We never use a net. MY great‑grandfather, Karl, believed it gave you a false sense of security,” said Lijana Wallenda, one of the family performers.
The Flying Wallendas have performed for audiences throughout most of this century. They debuted the pyramid in 1947. In 1978, Karl fell to his death from 120 feet above a Puerto Rico street. His death was the seventh Wallenda high-wire death of the century.
The Flying Wallendas perform the seven-person pyramid at a practice session in Sarasota, Fla., last week. The Wallendas plan to make the act a regular part of their performances for the first time since 1977.
and TRICIA HOPKINS
NEW YORK TIMES
SARASOTA, Fla. ‑ Mario Wallenda shook his head as seven loved ones practiced the same high‑wire trick that put him in a wheelchair 36 years ago.
“I think they're all crazy,” the 57‑year‑old said Thursday as the group rehearsed in north Sarasota. Wallenda was a member of the renown Flying Wallendas, a troupe of circus performers whose unique seven person pyramid across a tightrope dazzled audiences worldwide until February 1962
That's when the pyramid collapsed during a performance in Detroit. Two members were killed. Mario, the adopted son of family patriarch Karl Wallenda, was paralyzed.
Next week, a new group of Flying Wallendas is returning to Detroit with the hope of exorcising a circus demon. Thirteen people, all related by blood marriage or friendship to the 1962 Wallendas, will begin a 1‑night performance starting March 6 in the Moslem Shrine Circus.
They plan to perform the seven‑person pyramid.
Since the fatal pyramid performance, the Flying Wallendas performed the act only twice but never in Detroit, and not since 1977. Now, the pyramid will be a regular highlight of the Wallenda performances.
“I could sit here and talk them out of it until I'm blue in the face,” Mario Wallenda said. “Anticipation that something might happen? Yes. I'm running out of relatives.”
Family member Tino Wallenda‑Zoppe, one of the new performers, thought up the idea a year and a half ago and recruited or welcomed relatives and friends of the family.
The new troupe also includes Terry Troffer, Nikolas Wallenda‑Troffer, Sacha Pavlata, Alida Wallenda, Tony Hernandez, Delilah Wallenda, Lijana Wallenda, Rietta Wallenda, Aurelia Wallenda‑Zoppe, Dieter Galumbo, Andrea Wallenda‑Zoppe and Alex Wallenda-Zoppe, who at 9 is the youngest, in the act.,
In the pyramid stunt four people line up single file at the end of one platform, standing on thin wire 25 feet above the ground. The four hold two bars across their shoulders.
Two people then stand on the bars, and a third person – in a, chair – gets on top. The group walks about 30 feet across the wire – without a net.
“We never use a net. MY great‑grandfather, Karl, believed it gave you a false sense of security,” said Lijana Wallenda, one of the family performers.
The Flying Wallendas have performed for audiences throughout most of this century. They debuted the pyramid in 1947. In 1978, Karl fell to his death from 120 feet above a Puerto Rico street. His death was the seventh Wallenda high-wire death of the century.
The Flying Wallendas perform the seven-person pyramid at a practice session in Sarasota, Fla., last week. The Wallendas plan to make the act a regular part of their performances for the first time since 1977.
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