Thank you for visiting my page www.MaginleyCarrollCircus.com

I’ve never been a performer. I find it difficult to memorize parts and even more impossible to be on stage. Perhaps the only time it clicked for me was when I was in elementary school. Dressed as a clown, I sang a duet with my friend:  “I’m a tip-top tumble-down clown. You can hear me sing!” I was strangely confident and able to pull it off.  This has never happened again. Perhaps I was channeling circus ancestors, of whom I was even not even cognizant. I’m sorry I didn’t ride this wave.

In high school, I practiced a Shakespeare reading with two classmates. When were to present the reading, I was unable to remember any of my lines and made a complete botch out of it. One of the boys, Rob,  told me he has never seen anyone’s face turn so red.

 

My sister Elizabeth Rothwell, however, pursued acting and landed roles in productions in Burlington and at UVM. She was deeply involved in the theater scene as an actress, a stage- hand and worked at Vermont Theatrical selling and renting supplies. She was a founding member of the newly minted local stage-hand union.

In the 1970’s, we Rothwell kids did stints working during the summers at Champlain Shakespeare Festival under the brilliant Ed Feidner. My brother Ken played The Lute. Those were fantastic, magical productions pulled together on a shoestring budget.

When I was 27, I ventured into the nightclub business. As if in a dream, the pieces fell into place (although I was working very, very hard IN this dream sequence…) With the help of a very small loan from my parents, the support of my landlord Nectar Rorris and powered by the fuel of rejection along the way, I opened up Club Metronome at 188 Main Street in Burlington, Vermont on April 2, 1992. It was a chaotic, yet satisfying business. I did everything from book the music, to design the monthly calendar and promotions, to the book keeping. The learning curve was steep and deep. I acquired some mad D.I.Y. skills that are still with me. My friend Thembie stayed the entire 8 years, helping me run the office and bookings- the stuff that no one sees you do for 8+ hours during the day, before the club opens for business at night.

 

As our 5th Anniversary neared, I had a late-night conversation with Jade Kindar-Martin, a Shelburne, Vermont bred high-wire artist, on sabbatical from a career in France. He was stamping the paid hands at the club door, figuring out his next move. On a whim, we decided he would do a walk across Main Street in Burlington to highlight the 5th Anniversary of the club. We had two or so weeks to pull it together. Energized by our idea, we plowed through the planning with conviction: met with the police, the management of the Kinko’s building across the street and were surprisingly granted permission (thanks Detective Jim Marrier!) We drove to Montreal and picked up a wire at Cirque Du Soleil, where Jade had worked and studied. With no explanation, we ran it across Main Street, 80+ feet in the air, from The Courthouse Plaza/Kinko’s Building to Nectar’s Restaurant at 188 Main Street. Mirabelle’s, the bakery next door, baked and decorated our anniversary cake with a high-wire walker on a wire between two buildings.

On the night of the walk, Main Street was closed off. An ambulance mysteriously arrived and stood on notice. One thing we did not do is advertise the event, yet a large crowd arrived to watch the walk. My father, Kenneth S. Rothwell,  played the role of ‘Circus Barker’ and made announcements into a small microphone and speaker system.  (‘Laaaaaadies and Gentlemen…. “) He nailed it.  Tony Bader, an old UVM Theater friend of the family, led the crew that held the spotlight on Jade. Below on the street, Metronome bartenders and doormen held steady the ropes that dangled from the wire. My landlord Nectar Rorris was understandably a nervous wreck and was pleading with us to not go through with it. It was a windy and cold,  but clear, April evening Vermont.

My Dad made the first announcement and there was a hush on the street. Jade began the walk from the Metronome side to Kinko’s.  The crowd was mesmerized and pin-quiet. When he reached the end of the rope, we all cheered in joy and relief. Then word came that he was making a return trip, something none of us expected. My Dad made the announcement and Jade stepped back onto the wire. We collectively remained frozen in solidarity with the man on the wire. None of us dared make the tiniest noise out of sheer terror — for Jade was walking without a safety net below to scoop him up if he should experience a misstep.  His  journey across the wire, back to our side of the street was endless. This walk shifted from being a spectacle to a shared experience of immense gravity.

Of course, he made the trip safe and sound. And then the celebration of life, love and appreciation began. Nectar somehow deftly climbed the awkward ladder to the roof to hug and express joy with Jade.  All of us were lifted to a new emotional place and smiles were plastered on every face. The afterglow at the after party was blinding. Jusagroove, a disco cover band, hit the stage and a jubilant celebration began that flowed for hours. It was one of the most spectacular and fulfilling nights of my life.

I’m only telling you this story because in the quietness of life now, coupled with the benefit of perspective, I realize how easy and natural it was to coordinate this extraordinary high-wire event. I stepped right into it. In researching my family’s history in the circus and the theater, their careers have resonated with me.

My first cousin once-removed, Rhoda Glenn Collins (1922-1995), dug into our family genealogy and circus history, leaving boxes of great research that I have only recently been able to mine for information. She left handwritten notes, Xeroxed photos and carefully typed biographies. She visited in person and wrote to many clerk offices town halls across the United States, in search of information. Her work required a lot of legwork and physically looking through boxes of paper and stacks of books.

We had a “Benjamin Maginley” scrapbook tucked in with the records by the stereo in our house on South Willard Street in Burlington. This antique should have been handled with white gloves and kept out of the sun, but it was just another object in the house. We cared for it much like vinyl records, along which it was haphazardly stored. His story held legendary, but somehow, I didn’t ever have a real conversation with my Dad about our ancestor.

I’ve had the benefit of the internet, Google, Ancestry.Com and online Newspaper sites. University collections are listed online now and important travel, real estate and change of life documents are accessible online. The average person can now create a website to categorize and present information. I have fallen into an endless abyss of references on the internet  to The Maginleys and The Carrolls and I’ve loved every minute of it. My sister Mary has done extensive research also into my family’s genealogy. My goal is to compile all records of their work in one place. This website is just a smattering of what I’ve collected.

Please contact me if you have any information regarding Benjamin Maginley or The Carroll Family.

Thank you!

[contact-form-7 id="1234" title="Contact form 1"]