Carnie Folk

From old men to young computer geeks to world travellers, it takes a lot of people to run the fair.

DETAILS

Capital Ex
Northlands Grounds
Friday, July 23 - Sunday, August 1

More in: Events

For 10 days in July, the normally uninspiring Northlands is home to a whirling lightshow, an amusement park, a fireworks display, an open-air casino, and a testament to man’s noble quest to deep-fry everything good to make it great (try the deep-fried Coke, goes great with deep-fried ice cream). Yes, the carnival is in town and with it, carnival folk — carnies.

They make Capital Ex happen. Setting up, running, tearing down, and transporting 125 semi-truck loads worth of games, concessions, and rides takes more than 600 people.  Keeping it all running smoothly for North American Midway Entertainment — the company that does Capital Ex, the Calgary Stampede, and fairs across Canada and the United States — is operations manager in Wayne Kunz.

In the carnival world, Kunz isn’t just considered experienced — he’s a legend.

This is his 63rd year in the business. That’s right; Kunz has lived more than six straight decades of carnival. He made his debut as a 10-year-old at the 1947 Iowa State Fair in Des Moines, although by 10 he was already an old hand.

“I really probably started when I was five or six, when I was a little kid like this,” he said in an interview on the fairgrounds Saturday, holding his hand by his knee. “They used to have baseballs to knock bottles over and I’d run up and pick the balls and bring them back so they could throw them again. That was probably in, shit, ’42.”

For eight months of the year, Kunz travels from city to city, overseeing the staggering minutiae of a multi-million-dollar travelling amusement park. He’s a carnival icon, a man renowned by his fellows as an ultimate veteran of the business. Nicknamed Daddy Rabbit for his paternal concern for his employees and his quick moving feet, he was inducted into the company’s hall of fame this year.

“I’m kind of like a figure towards them because they know I’ve been in the business so long,” he said. “I was raised in the business. I married in the business, had three kids, my wife passed away a couple of years ago, married 45 years. I love the business very, very much.”

Kunz seems younger than his 72 years, still quick on his feet and even quicker with a laugh. Even though he’s spent a lifetime on the road, he says he has no plans to retire at this point.

“You have a hard time just staying in one town. You’re looking for new adventure, that’s kinda what I’ve been doing all my life. And then we have time in the winter, I take my time off and I still go travelling!”

He’s impressed with the changes he’s seen — like the company’s travelling grade-school for employees with young children — but he still has fond memories of sideshows and sawdust, the way his job used to be.

“There were a lot of good things back in those days,” he said, recalling bearded ladies, live animal shows, and illusions. “It’s changed from years ago when they used to have the girly shows and the minstrel shows. The old farmers would come to town — out of the mountains and the hills — and they wanted to see the girls show!”

Kunz has impressive seniority, but he’s not the only industry veteran walking the midway today. Walk past the Ferris wheel and around the mini-donuts and you’ll find the chance games — and 74-year-old Don Larson managing the gambling and concession booths.

“It’s the old story,” Larson says over the sound of smashing glass and popping balloons from nearby booths. “I was living in Winnipeg, I was 14, the carnival came to town and I wanted to and try and work in it. That was in 1949. I went away with the carnival. I lived on the train, got the experience of a lifetime.”

Larson was also inducted into the hall of fame this year, the same time as Wayne Kunz. So far, they’re the only ones to receive the honour in the company.

In his 40-plus years working the midway, Larson has seen many like himself: young people running off and joining the circus, although not always with the best results.

“There are many low points,” Larson said. “Young people coming out for the first time away from home, they get homesick. And love affairs, at the end of the season there’s a break-up, they’re all gone their different ways. Those things are a little difficult on the young people. And then the drug element. That’s been in the past, it’s certainly not as popular as it was earlier.”

Larson was always attracted to the adventure and the excitement of the carnival life. However, he knows that for some, ‘carnie’ carries negative connotations.

“That was the way it was,” Larson said. “A carnie? Oh, God ... one eye, no teeth, drugs. Those were all the overtures that were made up about carnie people, which in some cases were true.”

But he’s quick to point out that things have changed.

“I’ve had two lawyers, two dentists, and a couple of other nice, prominent people work for me over the years who are now professional people in their own life,” Larson said. “Like I say, you find everybody in this walk of life.

Like Mark Andrews. The 24-year-old Andrews has a master’s degree in computer science. He quit a job running an IT department for Dell and left a wife and baby girl at home in Nova Scotia to work the carnival.

Today, standing calm and relaxed at his booth — Shoot Out, blast around a whole red star with a toy Tommy gun to win a huge stuffed dog or gap-toothed Spongebob Squarepants — Andrews smiles out at the midway and the beautiful Edmonton afternoon filled with the sights and sounds of happy people.

“When people come to play my game, I like to make sure they leave with a smile on their face,” Andrews said. “If they spend a bit of money, at least they have something to show for it. Even if they don’t have a prize at least they had a good time.”

Andrews says the money is great and the travelling is exciting, although a bit harder now that he has a two-year-old daughter. Still, he doesn’t see himself going back to IT any time soon.

“I’ve done all that, but I just couldn’t be happy doing it,” he said. “I’ve never been happier doing anything else. I can see me doing this for a long time.”

For a set-up like Capital Ex, typically 80 per cent of the workers will be company employees, the rest hired locally just for the event. If you listen to a lot of the young full-timers, you might notice an interesting accent or two. That’s because North American Midway hires dozens of young South Africans spending a gap year or two after high school on the North American carnival circuit.

Amber Lush is in Edmonton by way of Johannesburg. The 21-year-old blonde is working guest services today, directing families to the kid’s area and saving ruined days by replacing snapped ride wristbands and performing first-aid.

“I just wanted to start travelling and see the world,” she explains. “I enjoyed it so much I decided to carry on. We also get to learn a bunch of stuff. I’d never get to drive a forklift in South Africa. This year we got our forklift licences, first-aid training. I go back to South Africa and tell my mates that I’ve a forklift licence and they can’t believe it.”

It’s been the experience of a lifetime, Lush says, but adds that her parents don’t totally approve.

“They think it’s a circus,” she laughs. “They don’t really understand the concept of a travelling amusement park just because you don’t get them in South Africa.”

However, right now Lush says she couldn’t be happier; with the adventure, the new experiences, and most of all the people she works with — carnies.

“I love this,” she said. “I’d do this for the rest of my life if I could.”



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