TheVignettes of Life on Beacon Street
During World War II
A humorous, gritty tale of the street told in straightforward colloquial style!
As I tell you this story, it was in the Summer of 1941
when I saw that big poster. I remember that the advance
man put up the sign for a week: The Circus is Coming to
Town! We Need Roustabouts! Anyone who wants to
work on the Big Show be at the fairgrounds at 4:00a.m.!
See the Big Show!
I heard, while listening to a couple ‘a guys in an all night
diner in Cincinnati, Ohio, that the first three people in
line got a dollar apiece. The rest got a free lunch and a
pass to the Circus.
The advance man, a big burley man stood in the middle
of the lot where there was a stake in the ground that
marked the spot for the center pole of the circus. I was
there first.
A few of the guys in the back were complaining,
“He’s only a kid!”
The advance man, pointing to the sign, said,
“Seewhat the sign says? The first three in line, it says.”
He turns to me, “Can you drive a stake kid?”
I looked right up at him, and said, “Better than them
drunks.”
He gave me a ticket that he initialed and I took it to the
cashier’s cage after the work was done to get my dollar.
It didn’t take long. The Stake Wagon and crew were
already there.
To the next show, I rode on the pole wagon all that night
to the next town up the Mississippi.  
I asked a Bo on the train, “Where’s the Fair Grounds?”
The train was slowin’ down, and he said, “Right there,
the next crossing. It’ll be an easy get off.”
I can hear the bell ding-a-ding-a-ding-a-ding, the train
keeps slowin’ down.
“Why is it important?”
“For a dollar, Mister.”
The difference in a git-off and a dismount, the git-off is
easy; the dismount is rollin’. Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-
ding.
I asked the Bo, “Where’s the pole goin’a  be?”
“Ah, that’s easy. It’s a flat wooden stake about two foot*
out’a the ground with a white flag on it.”
That’s all I needed to know. I found the stake about three
o’clock in the morning. I got in line first with a round
hickory club two foot long by an inch and a half around
that I always carried in my pack with me and sat down
beside it.
Other men started comin’ from other parts of the fair
ground.
One says to me, “Is this the line?”
I stand right over that stake when this big tall kid comes
up, sayin’ “I’m first in line.”
I take my round hardwood club and I come around with
it and hit him on the side of his kneecap. I figure eight
that stick and come around to his other kneecap.  He falls
like a sack’a shit.
I stand over the stake and the big burley advance agent
stands over me, “I see you’re first in line, again. How did
you get here so quick’?”
“I run here for that dollar!”
He says, “Stand over there,” pointing toward a few men
lined up. “You’re on the cook house crew!”
A man from one of the motorcars came up and said, “Can
I speak to you?”
I thought, oh, oh! Here comes the shit down. I walked
right up to him. He wasn’t a big man but I sensed a
power in him.
He said, “My name is Clyde Beety. I own the circus. And
what might your name be?”
I looked at him and said nothing.
“Where’d you run away from? There was no answer.
“Did you run away from home?”
I picked up my bag to sling over my shoulder ready to
separate myself from these people. I looked right at him,
and said,“I didn’t run away from home. Home ran away
from me. And I don’t want’a hear another goddamn
word about it.”
He saw something in my eyes, “Uh-huh.  Uh-huh. What
is your name?”
I looked at him right in his eyes and was silent for a
moment. Then I raised my voice, “Call me anything,
Mister!”
He never took his eyes from me, and he says, “What’s
your favorite movie?”
I’d spent a couple’a nights before in an all night movie
watchin’ “The Cisco Kid” four times settin’ with my bag
next to me and the strap over my shoulder.
I looked right at Mr. Beety, and said, “The Cisco Kid.”
“So, that’s it. I’ll call you Cisco,” and thus, Jōd became
Cisco.
I said, “You want this dollar ticket back?”
“No. Go with your work crew.”
I followed the crew, and I looked back. Clyde Beety was
talking to two other men.
When the work was done, the chow was begun in the
circus cookhouse tent.
A circus man came up to the table while I was eating, and
said, “When you get through, Mr. Beety would like to
see you. I’ll be waiting to show you where to go,” and he
pointed to the exit.
All the tents were up when we walked into the Big Top
where Mr. Beety was supervising exactly where he
wanted the run laid out from the Menagerie to the cage.
Mr. Beety says, “Do you want to work for me for
awhile?”
“Yes, Sir.”
That caught his attention. He turned and studied me
again, and he said, “Okay. We’re layin’ out the runs,
Cisco. They have to be exactly right.”
“Yes, Sir, Mr. Beety!”
On the back lot of the Circus, Clyde Beety, said, “Cisco, I
want to speak to you.”
We walked out in a clearing where no one could hear. I
set my bag down and looked at him, saying, “Sir?”
“Cisco, I will not ask why, when or how. It is your privy.
But you’ve had good training, with respect.” Looking
right at him, he continues, “I only ask two things, and
with your solemn oath.”
I didn’t speak. I just looked at him.
He said, “One is that you never, never, never, ever tell
me a lie or lie to me about anything. The second is that
you never steal anything.” Then, he said, “Your solemn
oath is solemn. You contain it within yourself. You and
you alone are the sole guardian of the principles of that
oath, the oath of the principles of the man in yourself.”
Then, he took my hand in both of his, and he said, “What
say you?”
“I give you my oath, Mr. Beety,” and with the shake of
our hands, sealed that oath. And I never, ever broke my
oath.
“Thank you, Cisco! My word to you: I’ll see that you
become a man.” Then, he says, “Always tell the truth and
you never have to remember it. Tell one lie, and you can
never forget it. Steal anything and you can never return
it. These are the principles I have lived my life by."
“I understand, Mr. Beety. Thank you, Sir.”
Then, Mr. Beety called out, “Roberts.”
He turned to me, and said, “Cisco, this is the Train
Master, Roberts. He will show you where to bunk and
you’ll be on his crew.”


Excerpt from the Book "What a Way to Spend a War."













Author and his wife, Eve


Copyright© Shippinbow/Joel and Eve Havard



Here is a taste of life
from a different
perspective: the life of
the street.,  Beacon
Street, San Pedro,
California, is  the
toughest port town
street in America
during the War years.
Cisco  makes it on the
hustle by following the
rules  that  command
respect  in this  story  
of life on Beacon
Street.
Mature beyond his
years, this young
angry survivor has a
big heart, yet, his
beginnings will
always trigger that
chip on his shoulder
that sends him into
defense mode when
anybody challenges
him or his friends.
He gives respect to
those he trusts and
those who give him
respect, and there are
many, as the reader
learns from this
informative, heart felt
and sometimes
humorous story of
WW II.

J.E. Havard



E-book out soon!
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