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Read it Now!

SEPTEMBER /OCTOBER
M andala
2010
the
DOC
EASON
BEYOND THE TOWER
Doc Eason was an iconic figure at The Tower Magic Bar for
27 years. In this issue we catch up with the good doctor
and find out what has been happening with one of magic’s
most famous bartenders.
VOL 1; Issue 2
S E P T E M B E R / O C TO B E R 2010
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DOC
EASON
BEYOND THE TOWER
by Sh
awn M
cMas
te r
2
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“In the winter of 2004, this
fairy-tale story came to an end.”
DOC
EASON
BEYOND THE TOWER
This is the story of a magical tower that
once sat on a hill in a far-off land known as
Snowmass, Colorado. Villagers, or those
lucky enough to be visiting the village
during the months of November through
April – the most magical time of the year
to be in the village – would always be able
to hear a variety of noises emanating from
the tower on the hill. An inviting cacophony that the locals all
became accustomed
to, and even welcomed.
Those
noises consisted of joyous
laughter, raucous cheering, and a
st ra nge
noise that sounded unmistakably like a
deck of cards slapping against a ceiling.
The magical tower these sounds spilled
out from for 27 years was the Tower Magic
Bar, and the man who caused the wonderful ruckus was its longest and most respected employee, Doc Eason.
In the winter of 2004, however, this fairytale story came to an end. The world-famous Tower Magic Bar and Restaurant
served its last drink and magically affixed
its last card to the ceiling on April 10th of
that year, officially bringing the end to an
era in Doc’s life. Some might say it was “a
very important era in his life,” while others
would argue that the era was his life.
Last Call…
“The year 2004 was actually the second annual last year of the Tower,”
Doc jokingly explains, “and this
time it was for real. There were
padlocks on the doors and the
whole place had been
stripped out.”
The
“first annual last year”
was the previous winter, in 2003, Doc says.
That was when it was
announced to both the
general public and the
magic community that
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the Tower would be closing at the end of
that current ski season. Had it not been for
a last minute extension, the Tower would
have remained closed. The Tower’s owner,
Michael P. Shore was looking to sell the
place, and it was thought that a seasonal
extension would allow him some time to
find a buyer. It was decided, however, that
until a buyer came along they would make
a go of it just opening for dinner. Another
year came and went, and still no serious
buyers. That was when Shore made the final decision to walk away, selling fixtures
and anything else he could to recoup some
of his money. Faithful, long-time patrons
that had been bringing their friends and
families to the Tower since 1975, as well as
many magicians, were mortified.
Doc has another term for it.
“It was somewhat terrifying,” he says. “I
was 57 at the time. I wasn’t really in a position to retire just yet. At 57 when leaving
a job, people usually dance away with a
401K or an IRA. Well, I can’t count to 401
and I can’t spell IRA. At the time, I didn’t
know what the next step was, but in all of
my life things have been very serendipitous. I knew the cosmos would provide.”
“Serendipitous” is really the best way to
describe it, because serendipity is what
brought Doc to The Tower in the first place.
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DOC
EASON
BEYOND THE TOWER
Sheets convinced Crow, who was now the
bar manager and had upgraded to Jack
Daniels, that they should turn the little,
The Tower Magic Bar and Restaurant, as it narrow bar area of the restaurant into a
is known today, started in 1975. The build- magic bar. Business was slow at the time,
ing already existed and housed a fondue and even though the current friends/busirestaurant called The
ness partners weren’t reTower Fondue. Singer/
ally sure what they were
songwriter John Denver
agreeing to when they
who made his home in
said “yes” to this strange
the area, and was well
“magic bar” concept,
on his way to superstarthey figured it couldn’t
dom at the time, bought
hurt. During the days
the business as a favor
leading up to the first
for his friends Paul Lenight, “Sheets told everyrch, “Crow” Straka (who
body he knew, and many
got his nickname from
people he didn’t know,”
drinking Old Crow in
Doc explains,
“that
college), and Michael P.
there was going to be a
Shore. Along with the
big party at The Tower.”
purchase came the existThe night arrived, and,
ing bartender, Gib. Gib
well…anyone who wasn’t
was a Jehovah’s Witness.
there can only imagine
Did you follow that? A The World-Famous Tower
the scene: Bob Sheets – a
Jehovah’s Witness bar- Magic Bar and Restaurant
packed house – maniacal
tender. “An oxymoron if
magic – lots of alcohol…
there ever was one,” Doc is quick to say. the night still lives on in local history. “Two
Every night, Gib was quick to shut down things happened that night,” Doc says as he
the bar the instant the dining room had tells the story, “The Tower became a magic
closed for the evening.
bar, and Gib lost his job.”
From Fondue Joint to The
World-Famous Tower
One night, Bob Sheets – fresh from his
stewardship with legendary bar magician
Heba Haba Al – came into the Tower.
4
Sheets continued to delight the Tower’s audiences night after night for two years. And
although other magic bartenders joined on
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with him throughout that time, it was really Sheets who made the impact on the audiences offering up his wild style of magic,
fire-eating, and overall bedlam that helped to
establish the Tower as a bona fide magic bar.
Serendipity Steps In
Sheets was the reigning king, but all of that
was about to change. Serendipity stepped
in as a young health food store employee
named Bill Eason and his buddy, Jeffrey
“Jake” Jacobson, hopped onto their motorcycles in Santa Barbara, California and
began a road trip. The vacation was only
supposed to last for one week. Bill had acquired the nickname “Doc” from working
in the health food store and always being
able to recommend just what it was his
customers needed. Doc and Jake rolled
into Snowmass during the summer of 1977,
with the intent of visiting their old college
friends Michael, Crow, and Paul.
The fateful road trip
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DOC
EASON
BEYOND THE TOWER
Walking into The Tower to have a beer,
Doc took a seat at the bar and was soon
transfixed on Bob Sheets. The experience
changed his life. The next day during a
hike in the Rocky Mountains, John Denver joined the party and the entire group
spent the day hiking, laughing, and singing. As if he needed any more coaxing,
this cemented it for Doc. He knew what he
wanted, no, had to do. Doc says he remembers thinking to himself, “Maybe I should
stick around here for awhile. Two days in
Colorado, and the guy who wrote Rocky
Mountain High is hanging out and hiking
with us.” Doc never went home. He gave
up his health food store job to wait and bus
tables at the Tower. “I stood at the bar door
every chance I got to watch Bob work,” he
explains. “I was captivated.”
Sheets took a liking to Doc and taught him
a couple of tricks. Then in November of
that year, Sheets left the Tower to open another magic bar, one that he would actually
be part owner of. The Jolly Jester, in nearby Aspen, opened and ran strong for about
three years. Sheets must have made quite an
impact on Doc as he is always named by Doc
as one of the main influences that helped
shape the performance style that he uses to
this day—yet they had only known each other
for no more than five months at the time. The
two remain close friends today.
5
With Sheets gone, Doc was now stepping
behind the bar to entertain the patrons. “I
figured out that it was pretty easy to fool
people,” he says with a smile. “The real
trick was to keep them there drinking
and entertained in between.” Oddly, his
health food store experience helped him
blossom, and contributed to his personality change. “In the store we had a health
food bar where we made nature burgers
and smoothies. The product line was obviously different, but the pace of keeping
track of people’s orders and getting stuff
out to them was the same,” Doc explains.
At one point early on in his health food
store years, Doc describes doing what he
calls “the Vitamin E show.” He vividly remembers being behind the health food bar
when someone asked him about Vitamin
E. Doc picked up the bottle and answered
all the customer’s questions by telling him
everything he knew about the vitamin.
Doc recalls finishing this original pitch,
putting the bottle down, and then realizing
that everybody was finishing up their lunch
and buying a bottle of Vitamin E on their
way out. Sort of like an inadvertent Snake
Oil salesman. Doc decided to do this on a
regular basis. “The next week,” he says, “I
did the ‘Ginseng Show’.” It was this experience of performing and being “on” behind
that health food counter that allowed him to
make the transition to bartender an easy one.
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Below are excerpts from Doc’s book that he is currently working on
describing his time spent at The Tower and beyond. It will be filled with
lots of true stories reported from behind one of magic’s most famous
and revered bars, and anecdotes of performances and people -- both
famous and not -- that he has met and interacted with.”
CLICK THE BOOK BELOW TO ENLARGE THE TEXT
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Mandala .com
DOC
EASON
BEYOND THE TOWER
That first year behind the bar, Doc became
passionate about magic. He had had no
prior experience with the art form before
coming to Colorado, but he wasted no time
in gaining as much knowledge as possible. And he did so with the best – reading
books by Bobo, Frank Garcia, and others.
As Doc’s first season at the Tower unfolded, he continued his education by hanging around with not only Sheets, but also
people like J.C. Wagner, Eddie Houlihan,
Johnny Fox, Eddie Goldstein, and Steve
Spill (who now owns and operates Magicopolis in Santa Monica, CA). By becoming friends and jamming with these people
who have since become synonymous with
bar magic, Doc’s performance style and
material couldn’t help but take shape. Besides these people, Doc also credits Bob
Read as being a big influence. Bob’s flawless blending of zaniness and one-liners
with his magic greatly appealed to Doc.
“In fact,” Doc is quick to add, “after seeing him at a convention in Wichita, KS, I
started wearing a derby.” The derby has
become somewhat of a trademark with
Doc. Doc says that he also got to see Heba
Haba Al perform twice. “Those,” he says,
“were seminal moments.”
The Team-Up to Tear ‘Em Up
In 1989 Eric Mead signed on at the Tower.
Up until that time, Doc had shared the bar
6
with a few other magicians; the talent of
which ranged from mediocre performances
to horrible and blatant imitations of Doc’s
act. That all changed when Eric entered
the picture. Paul Harris has described Eric
Mead’s magic as “improvisational performances that tap dance on the edge of the
unspeakable”. And whether or not this is
just hyperbole on the part of Harris, there is
some truth to this description. Eric’s magic
doesn’t see print that often, but when it does
magicians would do well to take note. His
original routines are artistic while, at the
same time, jaw-dropping. His manner when
performing, especially behind the bar, is no
nonsense/take no prisoners presented with a
good-natured, “let’s have some fun” disposition. The difference in Doc and Eric’s performing styles offset each other beautifully,
and both a partnership and friendship were
formed that continues to this day.
Summer Entertainment
Over the years the Tower has played host
to vacationing celebrities and visiting
magicians. In 1981, with the start of the
Family Festival and Cabaret Nights, those
visiting magicians became more plentiful.
The Snowmass Resort Association, the association that oversaw the mall area consisting of restaurants and shops in which
The Tower was located, decided to put Doc
in charge of organizing the talent for this
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Mandala .com
DOC
EASON
BEYOND THE TOWER
T
(From Left to Right): Doc, Eric Mead, Eddie Goldstein, Jon Stetson, Mike T. (in the back with
the hat), Lew Wymisner, Shawn Pop, editor Shawn McMaster (leaning on the bar and with a
little more hair and a moustache), Ian Saville, tarot card reader Ted Vaca
During the day, families would wander
the mall watching amusing and sometimes
7
educational performances presented by an
array of entertainers. Then, in the evening
when the children would be in bed, being
baby-sat by grandma, the adults would
return to The Tower for its Cabaret Night
shows, and could then enjoy a variety of
magic performances aimed at a more sophisticated, adult audience. These shows
were always very loose in format, and were
PREVIOUS
ig N
he B
s a wh
ole dif
ferent
ig h t
E
The line-up of magicians performing at The Tower’s Cabaret Nights
during the summer of 1996
annual event. Jugglers, puppet shows, singers, high wire acts, and, of course, magicians were brought in every year. The event
gained quite a reputation, and people from
all over the country would plan their vacations around it.
show.
ed sev
I m iss
s
where was 3 ti me
ts
h
ig
rate
ose n
sition
goin
e of th ate fa ilu re to the po ght
n
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d
xim
I ha
o ut
it ri
efore, e the appro s I strode
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m
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how c
T he s
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Well.
wa
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NEXT
Mandala .com
DOC
EASON
BEYOND THE TOWER
going on constantly in three different locations throughout The Tower. Audiences
would stay put, and the magicians would
rotate from location to location. One of
those locations was behind the famous bar.
One of Doc’s greetings to customers of The
Tower was, “Welcome to the world-famous
Tower where anything can happen and
usually does,” which does well to describe
the cabaret shows. Wild comedy magic offered by the likes of Bob Sheets, Jon Stetson, Lew Wymisner, Barry Wood; and eyepopping sleight of hand by Tim Connover,
Michael Ammar, Peter Studebaker, John
Ekin, and many others have made up the
shows over the years.
Closing Time…
On that final night in April, 2004, many
old friends and all-star performers gathered to wish Doc and Eric farewell. “I
was very glad Eric was there,” Doc says
affectionately, “he wasn’t at the last one.”
A prior performing engagement had taken
Eric away from what they thought was the
Tower’s last night the previous year.
Doc paints a picture of the final evening
with warm, jubilant, albeit a bit melancholy, descriptiveness. The night even ended with an unexpected twist.
“Eric tapped me on the shoulder and told me,
8
‘I want to do Card on the Ceiling’,” Doc says
with a smile. For those who don’t know, Doc
performed this particular card effect in The
Tower for as long as he has been there. It became his signature closing effect and everyone came to see him perform it. The reason
that this trick has become synonymous with
Doc is that while performing at The Tower,
Doc would hurl the deck through the blades
of one of the bar’s spinning ceiling fans.
Doc agreed to let Eric perform the trick.
Eric stepped up to the bar and, in a loud,
booming voice reminiscent of Doc’s, began with Doc’s opening words of patter:
“It’s now time for the world-famous Card
on the Ceiling!” He delivered Doc’s patter word for word and performed the routine exactly the way Doc had presented
it for the past 27 years. “I thought it was
hysterical!” Doc says. “People were looking around at each other and murmuring,
‘That’s Doc’s trick. He seems to be taking
it pretty well...’ I felt honored.” Eric did a
great job of duplicating the effect as Doc
would have performed it, only once admitting out loud to Doc as the selected card
had been replaced, “I’ve seen you do this
so many times, but I don’t know if I actually know all the work on it.” Needless to
say Eric successfully controlled the card,
and the moment he stepped under the fan
he stopped to look briefly at Doc with a
mixture of both nervousness and reverence
PREVIOUS
’t rea ldoesn m ile
that it
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Mandala .com
DOC
EASON
BEYOND THE TOWER
before tossing the deck toward the blades.
touch people in an unusual way,” he says.
“I sometimes go into people’s homes, and
“And he nailed it!” Doc says excitedly.
they open their photo albums and there I
am doing a trick from 20 years ago!” Doc
truly cares about his audiences, and that
Beyond The Tower
caring has grown into something much
Since the closure of
bigger over the years.
the Tower, Doc says
It grew from a simhe has done the math
ple emotion into an
and discovered that
almost
invisible,
he had performed apyet always-inherent
proximately 14,000
property that was a
shows behind the bar.
constant in his per“I realized that I have
formances at the
entertained three genbar. Now, six years
erations of tourists,
later, whenever Doc
and that I am now
steps behind a bar
sometimes performto perform – such as
ing for grandchilthe W.C. Fields Bar
dren,” he says a bit Los Angeles, California
at the Magic Castle
incredulous. And it is Doc displaying his two awards received
when he is in Hollyfrom
the
Academy
of
Magical
Arts
in
due to that repetition
wood – you can see
2010, “Close-up Magician of the Year”
that Doc’s repertoire
this quality immediand “Lecturer of the Year.”
has been honed and
ately rise to the surperfected into the
face. Get Doc behind
flawless state it is today. “I don’t know any a bar to perform today, and it’s like he has
magician who has had that kind of repeti- slipped on a pair of comfortable slippers. It
tion,” Doc says. “Maybe Billy McComb, is not unusual for him to perform non-stop
but that’s only because he was a million for four or five hours, with only one or two
years old!”
very short breaks, while behind the Magic
Castle’s bar.
Having performed that many shows for
that many people, one can’t help but be This love for his audiences has paid him
woven into various people’s lives. “You back many times not only monetarily, but
9
PREVIOUS
my
g in
Noth in sought
it h it.
so I
w
is
g
n
th
a lly
li
r dea red me for e was actu e
h
a
ble fo
ponsi quite prep by th is ti m ump ca rd:
s
re
s
e tr
wh o
I wa a reer had
Crow ver, held th job to do.
ti me
c
h
d
it
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w
fo
a
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d
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d a nd
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nc
off.
Stacy
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r tha n I was h is e
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was th
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As an r him, I se ured that
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Mandala .com
DOC
EASON
BEYOND THE TOWER
also emotionally and spiritually as well.
There is a wall of energy that one felt when
stepping behind the bar at The Tower to
perform. “Bar magic is much more than the
guy behind the bar just doing magic tricks,”
he explains. “It’s a whole personality piece.
You interact with the people and talk with
them about lots of different stuff, you get
them their drinks, and you do a trick for
them. It creates this whole convivial attitude
that is much more than just doing magic.”
When Doc is behind a bar, the energy is almost palpable at times, and it serves to invigorate not only the audience, but Doc as
well. “There have been times at The Tower
when I was dragging my ass, and once I began performing I was higher than a kite.”
and someone walked in that I’ve known for
30 years or not seen in 10 years –that was
when the knowledge that this was coming
to an end was disconcerting to me.”
When asked to describe his emotions six
years ago, at the closing of The Tower, Doc
says, “Sadness was one of them. Melancholy was another. Twenty-seven years is
a career to a lot of people. I was sad knowing that it was coming to an end, but, at the
same time, I was happy that the daily grind
was over. I mean, I didn’t have it as bad as
someone with a regular job with only two
weeks off a year to drive to the lake. It was
daily, but seasonal. I would have seven
weeks off in the spring and seven weeks
off in the fall. I was aware of the fact that
The Tower was basically on life-support
for those last two years. I knew it was going to end, but every time that door opened
Doc did succeed in securing another venue
to perform in in the fall of that year. The Artisan Restaurant and Bar in the Stonebridge
Inn located not far from The Tower has
become his new home. “They were refurbishing the place taking it from a rundown
hotel and transforming it into a high class
establishment. They needed to draw people
in to sample the new cuisine, and I needed a
place for people to come and throw money
at me,” Doc says lightheartedly.
10 S E P T E M B E R / O C TO B E R 2010
On the other hand, Doc was also excited
about starting over. “Now that The Tower
was closed down,” he says, “I was turned
on at the possibilities of what could happen.” Ironically, Doc had the best year of
his career after The Tower closed, and the
realities of not being tied down to a bar
every night, and, therefore, being able to
make more money at more private functions certainly appealed to him. That is not
to say that the thought of owning a future
“Doc’s Magic Bar” wasn’t also tempting.
k
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Bip re
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O
The building that was once the world-famous
Tower is now a ski shop. “It’s hard for me
to walk into the place,” Doc states. “About
the only thing that is still recognizable is the
PREVIOUS
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Related Videos
DOC
EASON
BEYOND THE TOWER
staircase that went down to the basement.
Other than that, the whole place has been
stripped out and completely remodeled.”
On the topic of owning his own bar, Doc
mentions that he had many discussions
with various business people, one of which
was Warren Gibson of Warren & Annabelle’s in Maui. “He’s a great guy,” Doc
says of Warren. “Short of sending me his
business plan, he said that he’d tell me anything I needed to know.” Lately, the burning desire to open a magic bar has cooled.
“I originally talked to an architect and designed a conceptual magic bar,” he states.
“We came up with plans and then looked
for places it might fit into in Snowmass
and couldn’t find anything.” He says Aspen
was also looked at, but, again, with no luck.
“This is also not the best economic climate
in which to open a bar,” he states.
Six years have gone by and in that time
Doc has traveled the country and abroad
performing and lecturing, including a very
successful run in Japan; plus he has been
honored with the Academy of Magical
Arts’ awards for “Close-up Magician of
the Year” consecutively for 2008 and 2009,
also taking home the “Lecturer of the
Year” award for 2009. He is still centered
in Colorado, for the meantime, and is still
entertaining the tourists. As already mentioned, he appears at The Artisan in The
Doc’s Opening Card Trick
Doc’s Disappaering Knife Trick
Doc performing Card on Ceiling at Silver Tree in 2009
Stonebridge Inn on a regular basis. He is
not actually behind the bar at The Artisan
(the bar is not really conducive to the performance of close-up magic), instead he is
positioned behind two tables creating what
is essentially a 12 foot bar. Patrons buy
drinks at the main bar, then walk over, take
a seat, and watch Doc perform. He will be
there three nights a week starting the first
of the year. The Artisan, while not really
a “whisky bar” by Doc’s own vhim happy
and paying the bills. He has also appeared
at another hotel, The Silver Tree, performing a combination of close-up and stand-up
magic one night a week during the winter
season for the past three years.
“The fact that I’m still here had a lot to do
with waiting until my daughter graduated.
Now that that’s happened, I’m looking to
maybe leave. I’m no longer so enamoured
with the winter as I used to be here. I’m
looking for active situations.”
Whatever those “active situations” might
include, Doc, in the meantime continues to
pursue his speaking engagements that he has
presented for several years, will continue his
successful product line – Rocky Mountain
Magic, and is even planning a book about
his years at The Tower. Doc may be finished
with the landmark that he has used to build
his reputation, but that reputation will keep
him from being anything but finished.
PREVIOUS
d sla m
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Th
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Mandala .com
Doc Eason shares his thoughts and remembrances of some of the magicians
that have inspired and shaped him into the performer he is today…
scene, but he was already somewhat of a wunder-
As good a time as he seemed to be having when
kind in the magic world. His father was a well-known
he worked, his physical condition was deteriorating,
magician and mentalist named Sandy Spillman. The
and poor Eddie didn’t make it through the season.
Like any life’s work, my position in the magic world
elder Spillman was a member of the board of direc-
He passed away in February of that first year. I ab-
was not accomplished solely by hard work and dili-
tors of the Magic Castle in Hollywood, and Steve
sorbed his lessons of personality and presentation
gence on my part. I was certainly in the right place
used to cut classes at Hollywood High to spend time
even though it was a brief but impactful friendship.
at the right time, but beyond the correct timing and
in the Magic Castle with the legendary Dai Vernon
a lot of hard work, I had some incredible help and
who was the dean of modern American magic. He
Among the “acolytes” in this unbelievable class-
encouragement very early in my magic career.
would sit for hours while Vernon practiced the piano
room were several folks who have become lifelong
and they would chat, Vernon would teach, and the
friends as well. Johnny Fox was our roommate in
teenage Spill would listen.
one of our first houses here. Johnny is now a famous
Bob Sheets’ role in turning me onto magic has been
well-documented elsewhere, but, as the first winter
sword swallower who performs at festivals and on
rolled around and Bob opened the Jolly Jester in As-
Steve’s hair cascading well past his shoulders and his
the streets all over the world. He was the first to in-
pen, he brought out a couple of pals from the west
outrageous behavior hid the fact that he brought
troduce me to Slydini and Cellini and their ways of
coast to help him: J.C. Wagner, Steve Spill, Eddie
an almost encyclopedic knowledge of magic to the
thinking about magic.
Houlihan, and some other new apprentices, Johnny
mix. During the days, I would hang with these guys,
Fox and Eddie Goldstein.
and they encouraged me by teaching me moves
Eddie Goldstein of Boulder was a math teacher at
and tricks. Then, later that night, I would go to the
Boulder High School when I first met him. He fell un-
J.C. Wagner was a childhood pal of Bob’s. I was to-
Tower Bar and practice what I had learned that after-
der the spell of Bob and Steve and used to come up
tally new to this subculture, and so I was unaware
noon. I was unaware that I was learning from some
to Aspen every weekend to perform and work on
that his expertise in card magic was near legendary.
of the best magicians of the day. All I knew was that
material. He was a bundle of energy and his spirited
I discovered that he had just published a book on
I was having the time of my life. I couldn’t wait to go
performances were inspirational to me.
card tricks that was causing a sensation in the mag-
to work.
ic world. His diligent study of some of the masters,
Each of these magicians were masters in their own
combined with a laid back style and sly laugh, made
Eddie Houlihan was an older man probably in his
right, and I was very fortunate to be exposed to
him one of the real underground magicians of the
mid 60’s but looked 80. He was a short guy with a
such diverse styles. I am certainly the sum total of all
day. [Editor’s note: Doc speaks more on J.C. below]
W.C. Fields type top hat. He was a classic old-time
my teachers along the way.
magic bartender, but the altitude didn’t do well with
Steve Spill was only 22 when he arrived on the
his emphysema.
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EVERHART
FRANK
invited me to do some work for them in their bar.
“I think it’s Frank... something or other.” The tumblers
Coincidentally, an old high school pal named
began to fall into place.
Bob was living there with his wife and brand new
son. I jumped at the chance to spend some time
“His last name isn’t by any chance... Everhart, is it?”
with he and his new family. I contacted him and
made arrangements to spend a few extra days. I
As any student of magic knows, Chicago was the
had a chance to play with Bob and Cathy and get
home to some of the original magic bars. These leg-
some valuable “flight time” on some things I was
endary places had real personalities working behind
practicing. Young Jeffrey, their son, was only 10
the bar. One of these characters was Frank Everhart,
months old. He was so fascinated with my springing
arguably one of the originators of the concept of
the cards from hand to hand that he loaded his
magic bar. He was certainly “the man” behind the
diaper for me.
Black Knight Bar in the old Ivanhoe Hotel in the
Early on in my career, if I ever had any doubts about
heart of the theater district. He was a fixture in that
whether or not I was embarking on the right path,
One night over dinner, Bob mentioned that a neigh-
bar for an unbelievable 22 years. Unbelievable, that
the following incident cleared away any such doubt.
bor of theirs did magic at some of the block parties.
is, to a guy who was three ski seasons into this new
If you are aware of synchronicity, then this is a prime
example.
and uncharted career.
“Uh-huh.” Every neighborhood has an old geezer
who did a few tricks. No big deal. I didn’t think much
By 1981, I had been into magic for four years. I called
How weird if it could be that Frank Everhart.
about this comment.
myself a magic bartender and while I was a serious
The phone book confirmed that a Frank Everhart
student, I was very green. Most magicians my age
“Yeah, he moved here from Chicago. He used to do
did, indeed, live around the corner, but when we
(34 at that time) had been studying the craft since
magic back there.”
placed a phone call and confirmed that, yes, this
they were youngsters. I had just started to delve into
was the Frank Everhart, my heart may well have
it at age 30. I had a few tricks under my belt and was
“Uh huh.” So the neighborhood geezer was from
skipped a beat. As the sun began to set on a beau-
a competent performer of a small repertoire, but I
Chicago. I was only mildly more interested.
tiful spring evening, we strolled past open garage
was still very much a novice.
doors in a family neighborhood tract that sported
“Yeah, I think he used to work in a bar in Chicago.”
The winter season had come to an end, and some
folks who owned a restaurant in Memphis had
lots of Big Wheels and baseball gear. I couldn’t believe that this legend of bar magic lived right around
That got my attention. “What is his name?”
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the corner from my old high school friend.
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old, came careening through the living
approach me, I try to remember what an impact
room barely giving me the time of day. He
that chance meeting with Frank had on me. In this
was clearly unimpressed with me; I was just
very small world of magic, I guess I am considered
My hand might well have trembled a bit as I rang
another of his dad’s magician friends. Ironically,
a celebrity, but because of the encounter with this
the doorbell. I heard a voice call out and soon a tall
young Frank went on to follow in his dad’s
true gentleman, I am reminded to keep that old ego
gaunt man with a droopy eye opened the door,
footsteps. He is a bar magician at a famous Key West
in check and not come off as arrogant. Because of
warmly welcomed us in, and offered Bob and I a
tropical bar, Schooner’s Wharf. He is well past the
the way that Frank treated me, I feel it is important
seat at his dining room table. I couldn’t believe that
decade mark and in pursuit of his dad’s record of
for me to patiently watch a kid do a trick and give
I sitting across the table from one of the true leg-
“22 years in the same joint.” On a recent trip to Key
him some advice or encouragement or constructive
ends of bar magic. I was 34 and he was about 59.
West, I had the opportunity to perform for a group
criticism in the same way that Frank did for me.
He was very cordial and full of stories about names
of magicians including Frank Jr. I performed one of
I had just recently learned. He regaled us with tales
the old man’s tricks and fooled Junior with it. He still
of the glory days in Chicago. He and his wife Lee
talks about that!
were very gracious to let me revel in the presence
of someone so revered by the magic community.
Frank Sr. and I crossed paths two more times over
It was one more sign that I was really on the correct
the years. He became a fan of mine, and his enthu-
path and had no choice in the matter.
siasm was a real tonic for me. He and I would write
letters, but as the years went by, he much preferred
For someone who was supposed to be the “Don
to talk on the phone. His support meant a lot to a
Rickles of Magic”, this man was very subdued. Frank
young up-and-comer like myself. This chance meet-
was a true gentleman. He impressed upon me how
ing in a suburb of Memphis 30 years ago was one
important it was that they remember you as a per-
more signpost on the road that I was indeed doing
son. “There’s only one Frank Everhart, there’s only one
the right thing.
Doc Eason. You want them to be hiring you, not just a
magician. They can get a magician, but when they hire
I am now older than Frank was when we met on
you, they are hiring Doc Eason.” This one point has
that warm spring night. Little did I know that his
stayed with me for years.
“unattainable” record of 22 years in the same joint
would be in my back pocket since the Tower shut
During the visit, their son, Frank Jr., a gangly 10 year
down after my 27 year run. Now, when younger guys
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pretty much abuzz with history and connection
the strength of his material, stand out in my mind.
“HEBA HABA” AL
ANDRUCCI
when we cleared the door of the New York Lounge.
“Heba Haba” Al Andrucci was a mainstay of the
Al seemed to glow behind the bar. He had a wide
His riotous rendition of the old chestnut Sugar Cube
grin as he welcomed his old pals. Everyone seemed
Trick brought the house down. I tried to savor every
to know each other way better than me. I was clear-
moment, but I was laughing so hard that I’m sure I
ly the rookie in the crowd. My “ticket” to even be in
missed a few things.
this august group was the fact that I knew Sheets.
I had one other chance to see Heba a couple of
Standing barely five feet tall, the most distinguish-
years later with Tommy Edwards, a delightful little
ing feature of the little man, besides his impish grin,
guy who wore a derby cocked off to one side and
were his hands. Heba had HUGE hands…hands that
used the Nicola system better than anyone I have
could palm a Buick. “All the better to palm cards
ever seen. This time it was just Tommy, Jay Marshall,
with,” was what I was thinking.
and me in the gallery. I was tickled that Heba
Chicago bar magic scene for over 50 years.
remembered me and made a minor fuss about
He asked everybody what kind of beer they wanted.
my being there. I remember Jay leaning over and
I had the great good fortune of working a meeting
It didn’t much matter what you asked for, all he had in
cautioning me to be on the lookout for his classic
planners trade show for Snowmass in Chicago.
the cooler was Old Style. He would just grab a marker
force. When Al had me select a card I was convinced
It was in the early 80s and I was a real newbie. I
and write the name of whatever beer you had asked
I had had a free choice. But Jay winked at me and
was thrilled when I got there to discover that Tom
for on the label. Heba clearly loved having us at the
said, “See?” and I realized that I had a lot to learn
Mullica was there representing Atlanta, as well as
bar. We were laughing so hard at his antics that we
about forcing cards. His style was so effortless and
a gentleman named George Johnstone who was
barely noticed that he hadn’t done a trick yet. This
spontaneous. I am very fortunate that I had the
representing some hotel in Chicago. I was excited
was clearly an “experience,” not just a magic show.
opportunity to watch this master ply his trade with
when they included me in an evening excursion
that would bring me in contact with Heba Haba Al.
such ease.
The group of eight local non-magic types were
being regaled royally by Al as he went through his
I love Phil Willmarth’s description, that Al was old
Al was a huge influence on my mentor, Bob Sheets,
greatest hits for us. The twinkle in his eye and the
enough to have fathered most women in the bar
so I consider Al to be sort of a “magical grandfather”
quickness of his comebacks made his performance
and interested enough to have tried.
to me. We met up with Jay Marshall and Jim Ryan,
seem like it was the first time he had ever done that
who was a huge influence on Mullica. The air was
particular trick, though it obviously wasn’t. That, and
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Al died in 1991 just shy of his 80th birthday.
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WAGNER
JOHN C. (J.C.)
J.C. was not at all flashy in his demeanor or dress, or
“That too, huh?” and his grin would widen.
in his card handling, for that matter. He impressed
Another moment, and it would happen
me as a blue collar kind of guy, but the things he
again. When I finished my routine, I stepped
did with a deck of cards made my eyes bug out.
off the platform and embraced him with a hug
His endearing little chuckle would come out when
of gratitude and acknowledged what an impact he
he could see that he had just fooled the pants off
had on me. He was always so humble about his skill
you. “Heh, heh, heh.” His patient tutoring brought me
or his influence in the world of card magic.
along the curve much faster than trying to read it all
from a book. It is hard to wrap my mind around the fact that he is
gone, and that the only time I’ll hear his little chuck-
The years sort of melted that mentor/mentee rela-
le is on a DVD. Luckily, we can still experience his
tionship and we evolved into being pals and col-
skill and humor through that medium. I will still miss
The summer of 1977 was monumental for me. I had
leagues. I kept track of him through his long time
the interaction, the learning and sharing that was
ridden a motorcycle from California into Snowmass,
pal Bob Sheets and was saddened when he sort of
always so much a part of our time together. seen a wild-eyed magic bartender named Bob
drifted away from magic for a time. I rejoiced, with
Sheets perform miracles from behind a bar and ten-
many others, when he came back.
Aloha my friend. tatively started down this untrodden path of being
a bartender/magician.
I recall the last Fechter’s that was held in the Forks
Hotel. Karl Norman, Jamy Ian Swiss, Bill Malone, Ray
When Bob decided to open a magic bar in Aspen,
Mertz, J.C. and I were behind the bar on a night that
a couple of his pals came out to help him open the
was ... well, magical.
place. Being totally new to this new world of magic,
the names Steve Spill and J.C. Wagner meant noth-
On a recent trip to the Castle, he sat at the W.C.
ing to me. Bob kept telling me that I was going to
Fields Bar watching me go through my card routine.
get a lot out of meeting J.C. I had no idea. My card
As I came to a move or some finesse that I had
handling skills were very raw and amateurish, but I
learned from him, I would pause and glance at him
was a sponge, soaking in information. And though
smiling at me. “That came from you didn’t it?” I would
I didn’t know it at the time, J.C. was about to greatly
ask. He’d chuckle and his eyes would twinkle at
impact my development.
the recognition. A minute would elapse and then,
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The following pages in this PDF are utilized within this issue to display the
enlargements for Doc Eason’s book.
These pages are not part of the reading experience for The Mandala.
DOC-TALES
TALES OF THE TOWER AND BEYOND
toss it into his mouth and, with a few crunches, swallow
it. The college kids turned this into a big fad in the 1950s.
H i s to r y
P
robably the trick that I am most known for is the “Hundred Dollar Card on the Ceiling.” It was the closer for
my act. I had built the crowd up, given them a great
show and just prior to the ceiling trick, I performed the multiple selection of cards. They had seen an unbelievable set of
tricks, I had just found 20+ cards and called the entire front
row by their names. When the hat appeared in front of them,
there was little they could do except throw a bill into the hat!
The origins of this trick actually go back to the 1600s, but the
legendary bar magician Matt Schulein of Chicago is probably most associated with bringing it to its recent popularity.
Matt was the owner of Schulein’s Restaruant, a German joint
typical of the ethnic establishments in Chicago during the
golden age of bar magic in the 1950s and 60s. Long narrow
restaurants with a bar in the front and tables in the back for
families to sit and dine. Matt would visit the tables and delight the diners. Matt always claimed he was the originator of
the “goldfish eating” craze of the fifties. Matt had a goldfish
tank behind the bar with quite a few fish in it. With a piece
of carrot palmed that was roughly carved into the shape of a
fish, he would reach into the tank and seemingly pluck out a
fish. Flicking it with his finger to make it look like real, he’d
To close his magic show he would have a card selected and lost
in the deck. After many unsuccessful attempts at finding the selected card, out of frustration, he would say something like, “Oh,
the hell with card tricks,” and he would toss the deck against
a nearby wall where the cards would explode spectacularly.
As they showered to the floor, there, stuck on the wall, would
be the selected card. It was the finale to his set of card tricks.
Other magicians have come up with variations on the trick.
The biggest contribution came from San Diego magician
J.C. Wagner, one of the best known card men that ever existed in the business. He is credited with adding the money
aspect to this classic. In addition to the basic concept of
sticking the card to the ceiling, he came up with the idea of
wrapping a dollar bill around the deck so that the end result
is the selected card and a bill are now stuck on the ceiling.
His idea of making this a moneymaker was truly brilliant.
When entering the Tower Bar, one of the first things that
caught your eye was the ceiling which had about 30 cards
and dollar bills tacked to it. This invoked curiosity, and
was a very effective “billboard”. It promoted the “Ya gotta
come back tonight and see this guy” sort of conversations.
I first saw the Card on Ceiling trick performed on my very first,
magical night in the Tower. Sheets performed J.C.’s variation.
On an already impressive night, watching a card get stuck to the
ceiling put me over the top. I couldn’t believe my eyes.
When I started to work behind the bar, Sheets taught me this
trick. It didn’t take me long to figure out that this was a closer
and doing it for a dollar was not very cost effective. But if I
CLI CK H E R E TO R E T U R N TO T H E AR T I CLE
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passed the hat, I could generate a lot more than a dollar every
time I did it. This became a big part of my income. I had moved
it from the dollar trick to one that could yield $20 or more every
time I did it. It was the first of a couple of improvements that I
stumbled upon.
i pi t o u s
A Serend the
to
A d d i ti o n
n System
o
i
t
a
l
i
t
n
e
V
T
he Tower Bar was a bit “cave-like” in that there were
no windows. The archaic ventilation system barely accomplished its task. In the dead of summer, it was nearly oppressive in that room, especially when a couple of folks
would light up a cigarette. Smoking was much more prevalent
in the early 80s. Couple that with warm summer nights. And on
busy nights, with the heat coming off the kitchen, the temperature rose to an almost hellish level. We put a “Band-aid” on the
problem by installing two ceiling fans. While it really didn’t
alleviate the heat, it, at least. moved air around and made it
slightly more tolerable to be there. Little did anyone know that
these two ceiling fans would dramatically change and improve
the Card on Ceiling trick to an epic level.
Here’s how it came about. The winter after we installed the fans
started like all ski seasons. We had a flurry of activity around
Thanksgiving, but then business slowed down as it always did
in early December. The first few weeks were always dreadfully
slow. In an effort to drum up some business, the powers that be
instituted “Airline Week” to spark up an otherwise lackluster
time. Deals on rooms and ski tickets were made to the pilots
and flight attendants from various airlines. Delta and (then)
Piedmont were big players. We always looked forward to this
time because the bar was full of dashing airline pilots and gorgeous flight attendants.
A flight attendant named Dennis sat at the bar one night watching the show. I finished by passing the hat, as usual, for the Card
on Ceiling trick. After I had nailed the money on the ceiling, he
called me down to the far end of the bar. He looked at the fan,
then looked at me, and then back to the fan. He said, “I’ve got
a hundred that says you can’t do that trick through the blades
of the spinning ceiling fan!” I thought about it for a moment. I
knew that they used to shoot machine guns through propellers
on the World War I biplanes and kept flying! I conjectured that
if all the fan blades were placed next to one another, it left 3/4 of
the whole circumference for the card to go through. I accepted
the challenge. Standing under the fan I could easily see that as
long as I tossed the deck to the far outside of that circumference
I had the best chance to make it through. I also determined
that I needed it to get through a critical area quickly. I hurled it
pretty hard, and when it went through the blades and stuck the
card to the ceiling, the only person more amazed than Dennis
was me! Suddenly, I realized that I had a spectacular closer for
my show
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The night before, I had one of those nights where I missed several times. So, since the approximate failure rate was 3 times
out of ten, I felt pretty strong as I strode out to the position
below the fan. After an abbreviated routine, I slapped it right
through the blades. Sweet.
T
ig h t
he Big N
As I walked toward the bar I could see Ol’ Bill with his head
cocked to one side looking suspiciously at the fan and at me. He
apparently thought this was some kind of trick. By the time I
got back behind the bar, he slapped another hundred down and
said, “Do that again.”
Well, of course.
E
arly one evening, I had just started the first show. The
bar was half full. I had a good front row and we were
starting to roll.
A big guy walked in wearing a broad rimmed cowboy hat and
sat in the front row, mid bar. I remember his name was Bill and
he was from Florida. It was hard to tell what his occupation
might have been (he might have been a stockbroker for all I
knew), but I immediately thought he fit the profile of a drug
dealer, and I nicknamed him Big Bill. I served him his rum
drink and resumed my show. After a couple of long pulls on his
drink, he gestured to me with a question.
“I hear you do this trick where you throw cards through the
fan.” I explained that yes, I do that trick, but it happened at the
end of the show and we had just started.
I trouped right back out there and slapped it through again.
Thank you very much.
The show had now become all about Bill and whatever he wanted to have happen.
He was very perplexed at this point. What he proposed next told
me that he really thought there was some trick to this whole
thing. He said, “I’ve got $500 says you can’t do that blindfolded!”
It is important to distinguish here between a trick and a stunt. A
trick implies that there is some subterfuge going on...something
that we can’t figure out. A stunt means I actually do what I say
I am doing. In this case, this is a stunt!
Well, I assessed the situation and thought about the fact that I
He seemed a little impatient, so he reached into his pocket and
pulled out a roll of hundreds. As he peeled one off, he said, “I’d
like to see that trick!”
Well. Of course! The show could wait... after all, what we had
going here was a whole different show.
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actually do throw it through the blades and that it doesn’t really
matter if I see what is going on or not. So, with a slight smile
on my face, I thought that it was best that we first set some
rules. We determined that I need to be positioned correctly. A
further stipulation was that this was not a bet. If I didn’t make
it through, I did not owe him any money, he merely got his
original money back. He agreed to it all, so I took my place
under the fan and had a cloth napkin from the dining room tied
around my head.
Building up the drama by adjusting my weight over my feet
and flexing my knees, I waited an appropriate amount of time
and let it fly. Just as there is a special sound when the tennis
racket connects with the ball, there is a sweet sound when the
deck hits the ceiling correctly. Even before the crowd erupted in
cheers, I knew that I had nailed it. I pulled the blindfold down
from one eye and confirmed that it had indeed made it through
perfectly.
The bar went nuts, Bill sat there with his mouth gaping open
and I pretty much called the rest of the evening off. I had made
$700 in about ten minutes. Sweet!
ti s m
M y Bap
as a
r
Bartende
I
n the late 1970’s, the ski patrol and ski school adopted The
Tower as the place to repair to after a day on the slopes. Every afternoon the bar would fill up with red-sweatered ski
instructors, and the folks who loved hanging out with them, all
quaffing as much 25 cent draft beer as we could serve up. The
tips were commensurate with the price of the specials.
In any bar, the rookie bartender always draws the crappy shifts.
In The Tower, that meant the après-ski shifts.
After a few of those bargain beers these instructors could
sometimes go beyond boisterous and turn positively obnoxious.
But despite the occasional over-served instructor, I was more
and more at ease tending bar and having fun with this new job.
That first winter, in addition to the après-ski crowd, I served
Barbra Streisand, Stevie Nicks from Fleetwood Mac, and Ingemar Johansson, the former world heavy weight champion. What
a thrill. I was having the time of my life, still green but beginning to hit my stride.
One afternoon, a gang of instructors burst into the bar, accompanying a patron who was missing his left arm and leg.
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On one crutch, he nimbly navigated through the crowd and onto
a barstool. The buzz around the bar was that this was Jim Stacy,
a Hollywood actor who lost his left extremities in a spectacular
motorcycle accident several years before. Here was a guy who
had narrowly survived a massive life-changing event and was
now skiing with one arm and one leg and probably at a much
higher level than me!
than Stacy! Crow, however, held the trump card: he was the
owner, I was his employee and I had a job to do.
Crow was the manager on duty and he sat quietly at the opposite end of the bar, idly observing the developing situation. He
also was taking full advantage of the open tab and was well into
his cups as the transition from the afternoon après-ski bar to
evening dinner house was slowly unfolding. Stacy’s entourage
started to desert him as he began making more frequent forays
into weirdness. His high spirits gave way to sudden changes
of mood. Fueled by a prodigious amount of alcohol, he was
walking a precarious line, coherent some of the time but periodically lapsing into bizarre monologues addressed to no one
in particular. His “posse” dwindled to one or two patrons and
they were eyeing the door. We were rapidly approaching his
“magic number.”
As an afterthought, he asked for a glass of water. Feeling a bit
sorry for him, I set a big glass of ice water in front of him. He
thanked me and gestured that he wanted to say something to
me. As I leaned in, he picked up the glass with his remaining
hand and delivered its contents directly into my face. Any shred
of sympathy I had for the man was washed down my shirt front
with icy water, only to be replaced with a mounting fury.
Stacy was the center of attention and was definitely enjoying
his celebrity, which was considerably enhanced by his buying
drinks for everyone. Word of the open bar tab spread quickly so
the crowd was expanding and demanding. The pace was crazy
for about an hour of “power drinking.”
As a bartender, I have come to realize that everyone has a “magic number” of cocktails- it can be four or it can be 10 (everybody’s number is different) but when that number is reached,
suddenly you are no longer dealing with the same person you
were just moments before.
The management decision was to cut the drunken actor off.
With an uneasiness bordering on dismay, I ventured to his end
of the bar. Abandoned by his posse, he now sat alone. When
he ordered another drink, I quietly informed him that he had
been cut off. He was dumbfounded. Suddenly he shook off his
drunk, sat up and turned very sober. He tried everything to get
another drink out of me, first, cajoling me, then badgering me,
then pleading with me and finally insulting me. I wasn’t buying any of it. Finally, resigned to the fact that he wasn’t getting
another drink, he cleared his tab.
By the time I was able to speak, he was already on his way out
the door on his crutch. Teeth clenched, I managed to sputter,
“Now you are REALLY outta here.”....or words to that effect,
but he was gone before I could finish my sentence.
When someone is baptized, it marks a profound change in their
life. They are immersed as one person and emerge as someone
else. I walked into the bar that afternoon as a rookie bartender.
I emerged from the water and was a full-fledged professional
when I went home that night. This was my bartending baptism.
I had witnessed this phenomenon before but this was the first
time I was responsible for dealing with it. Nothing in my health
food career had quite prepared me for this so I sought guidance.
I huddled with Crow who by this time was actually drunker
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He had a wide mouth, and when he smiled it took up his whole
face. He was clearly a man who liked to have as much fun as
possible. With his infectious laugh, he put his arm around my
shoulder and said, “Let’s go flying!”
a ne
The Bipl
e
A d ve n t u r
O
ne night early in the summer of 1979, John [Denver
– Singer, songwriter and owner of the Tower] was
enjoying himself in the bar, surrounded by the “inner circle.” Everyone was in a grand mood. I was at the far
end of the bar entertaining a small group of folks who seemed
more interested in the fact that John was at the other end of the
bar than the tricks I was doing. At one point, I heard John ask,
“Who wants to go for a ride in the biplane tomorrow?” There
was a moment’s silence and although I was the new guy and the
invitation probably wasn’t really meant for me, I summoned up
the appropriate nerve and yelled over my shoulder, “I do.”
John seemed surprised and asked if I was serious. I said, “Hell
yes. Are you?” He said, “Be at the airport at 11:00.” I hardly
slept that night.
The next day was glorious. A sapphire blue sky was dotted with
a few puffy cotton-ball clouds. I rode my old motorcycle down
to the Aspen Airport and was standing on the tarmac as John
landed the plane with Michael P. aboard. Fairly quivering with
anticipation, I watched the two of them climb out of the plane
and head in my direction. John was wearing an ear-to-ear grin.
We strolled toward his dark blue Stearman, emblazoned with
the word “EXPERIMENTAL.” In an open-cockpit biplane
like this one, the passenger sits in front and the pilot is behind
him. My “briefing” took a remarkably short time. Standing next
to the plane, he handed me a backpack type of thing that had
a handy tailpiece to serve as a seat cushion. Nice planning, I
thought as I glanced at the wooden slat that was to be my seat.
Suddenly I realized this “backpack” was my parachute! My
stomach tightened slightly.
Continuing the intense briefing, he explained, “If I say jump, I
don’t want you to think twice. Just do it ... climb out and away
from the plane and pull this ring.”
Oh, OK! 10-4 on that! What have I signed up for?
“It’s gonna be loud, so we’ll wear these headsets that allow me
to talk to you, but it’s real loud for me when they are open both
ways. So I’ll switch it off unless I need to talk to you.”
All righty. Fine. “Climb in.”
Right away I saw why it would be noisy. I was going to be riding
directly behind a huge engine. As I arranged my lanky frame
into this cozy compartment, one leg went on one side of a drum
that was under the slat, with my other leg on the other side. It
dawned on me that I was sitting atop a 55-gallon
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gas tank! Riding out onto the runway wearing a parachute, cloth
flight helmet and goggles, and straddling a huge barrel of flammable liquid, I am sure my eyes were as wide as salad plates.
I listened to the chatter between the cockpit and the control
tower as we lumbered down the runway. As soon as we were
airborne, I heard John’s distinctive laugh. It was a wonderful
sound. Whenever John did something fun, like skiing or flying,
his enthusiasm pushed out an infectious laugh of pure delight.
With the scent of spring perfuming the air, we flew over Snowmass Village, then headed up toward Mount Daly and Snowmass Lake. This is one of the most spectacular spots in the
world. To be viewing it from the open cockpit of a biplane was
an incredible gift. To have John Denver as the pilot … well, it
doesn’t get much better.
the ride were accomplished in utter “radio silence.” We turned
the corner over Basalt and headed back up the valley. John did
one more loop as we headed in, but after the Cuban Eight, it
was a piece of cake. I was feeling nearly normal by the time
we landed.
I climbed out of the plane, thanked John profusely, then got on
my motorcycle and rode across the street to the office where Alison (Doc’s girlfriend at the time) was at work. When I walked
in wearing my white motorcycle helmet, she said, “God! What
happened to you? You’re as white as your helmet!”
Apparently I wasn’t as close to normal as I thought, but I’d had
the experience of a lifetime!
Then John announced that we were about to do a Cuban Eight.
This is when you make a figure eight in the sky and throw in a
barrel roll at the top of each loop of the eight. If that sounds a
tad confusing, here is what the passenger experiences...
We went into a steep dive and while looking at the lake we were
zooming toward, he pulled back on the stick causing us to head
suddenly skyward (leaving my stomach far below!). At the top
of the climb, we suddenly did a roll and headed back down (all
except my stomach, which was still on an upward trajectory!).
Now we were back in a steep dive, plunging toward the lake
again. Once again pulling back on the stick (with my stomach
still hurtling earthward) we were climbing back into the blue.
Another stomach-churning roll and, after straightening out, we
were heading calmly in the same direction as when we began
the maneuver.
Things now got real quiet in my seat. My entire being was focused on not losing my breakfast and having the wind slam
it right into John’s goggles. It didn’t seem like a good career
move to throw up all over the boss and his spiffy airplane. So
I kept swallowing as fast as I could. The last few minutes of
Mandala .com

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Transcription

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