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Astoria Clowns, circa late-1950. ( photos courtesy Jeff Daly)
Historically, the AC’s raison d’etre
has been serving as Astoria boosters—as
city ambassadors really —and they’ve
been quite effective. Driving around the
Northwest in an old repainted ambulance
bearing the message “Let’s Build the
Bridge,” the group was instrumental in
garnering support for the building of the
Astoria Megler Bridge. Naysayers called
it “the bridge to nowhere,” but that didn’t
bother these guys who, clearly, were men
of vision—leaders in their community
clown suits notwithstanding.
Jeff Daly is the son of Jack Daly, a onetime
Bumblebee cannery executive and
one of the AC’s founding members. Son
Daly is responsible for the colorful and affectionate
AC exhibit on display in the old
Lum’s Building at 16th and Exchange in Astoria.
It’s a tribute to the AC and showcases
a unique piece of the city’s history. He’s
also decorated the street-level windows of
The Elliott Hotel with photos and old signs,
depicting a sort of “walk down merchant
street in the 1960s.” “I wanted to do something
with vacant spaces like this in the Bicentennial
year… to make them something enticing to
people instead of abandoned storefronts,” he
explains.
In nearly every window of what was
once an auto showroom, passersby can ogle
vintage clown memorabilia. There’s old home
movie footage of the clowns being played
on stacked-up TVs, baggy clown suits in
eye-popping colors hanging from clothesline,
fading photos (one shows Bing Crosby hitting
a golf bowl from a tee that’s been placed in
the mouth of one especially intrepid clown),
documents and newspaper clippings, one
particular pair of over-sized clown shoes
intrigues. You can piece together the Astoria
clown history in an afternoon visit through
Daly’s creative installation.
Almost a native Astorian (he was one year
old when his family moved here), Daly’s a
Clown after his father, Jeff Daly
veritable storehouse of anecdotes about
the AC. He’s particularly admiring of their
accomplishments on the area’s behalf during
the time his father was a clown. “Here was
this unbelievable group of guys that came
together to support the city and the idea of
the bridge. They were really thinking of the
future and were very open ended in their view
of things… thinking 20 years ahead of their
time,” he marvels. “They were civic leaders,
highly instrumental to the organization of the
city, the government of the city, the business
of the city, thus able to anonymously promote
the city and make things happen.”
Back then the AC was a totally anonymous
entity; less so these days. As a kid, Daly
adored the mystery of it all. “A boy or girl
might know that their dad was a clown but
the identity of the other clowns was never
revealed,” he says. Apparently, this was also
the case when they were on the road. “They’d
do a parade and then get invited to a dignitaries’
‘do’ at night. Twelve guys would
show up in snappy red blazers and ties…
no clowns in sight. Talk about making stuff
happen. They’d be talking to governors
and heads of state. Wow!”
Daly has a special reason for his fascination
with and affection for the AC. This
reason has received a lot of news coverage
in the past… by CBS Sunday Morning, The
Oregonian and The Daily Astorian, among
others. To quickly recap, his was the perfect
fifties Astoria family…Dad, Mom, Jeff
and Molly, the little sister he adored. That
all changed when Molly, at age three, was
institutionalized at the Fairview Hospital
and Training Center in Salem. At his mom’s
insistence, the girl was never mentioned…
ostensibly forgotten. Soon after, the Dalys
had another child-- a healthy boy—Molly
became an even more distant memory.
Jeff Daly never forgot about her though.
After his parents’ death, he tracked her
down, with the help of his wife Cindy;
and brother and sister were reunited after
decades apart. As a filmmaker and freelance
cameraman, Daly deftly documents this
alternately chilling (old footage from Fairview
is pretty hard to watch) and moving story in a
film he subsequently made entitled, “Where’s
Molly?” It’s guaranteed not to leave a dry eye
in the house and is beautifully done. Work is
currently under way for a book and a screen
play version.
Father Jack’s story, though, is equally
moving. A bit of a straight arrow, Jack Daly
appeared to go along with his wife’s rules
against even mentioning Molly. Nevertheless,
he frequently made the long drive from
Astoria to Salem to visit his daughter. And
when staff at Fairview asked him not to visit
anymore because his visits upset the girl, he
came up with a way to see her anonymously…
as one of a troupe of traveling clowns!
Coulrophobia
There’s also a
dark side to clowns
and clowning in
our culture. Some
people actually
have an irrational
fear of clowns, a
condition known
as “coulrophobia.”
One explanation
for this is that
clown costumes
exaggerate facial
features and body
parts such as
hands, feet and
noses, which
can be seen as
monstrous or
deformed. Popular
culture has certainly
played on this
notion. There’s the
Joker in the Batman stories,
the evil clown in the Stephen
King novel, It, or how about
the 1988 movie Killer Klowns
from Outer Space?
The act of disguising oneself
and the anonymity that affords
could be another source
of unease when it comes to
clowns. In Cecil B. DeMille’s
1952 movie, The Greatest Show
on Earth, actor Jimmy Stewart
plays a circus clown who
never removes his makeup.
It turns out his character had
been a doctor who euthanized
his wife and was wanted for
murder. In the real world,
serial killer John Wayne Gacy
dressed as a clown to lure
and disarm his victims, thus
earning the nickname “Killer
Klown.”
Even if you aren’t threatened
by clowns, there is
something about dressing up
as one… people behave differently.
Daly witnessed this
when he persuaded a couple
he knew to dress up as clowns
and sit outside the building
housing his AC exhibit one
day. “Have fun but don’t get
us into trouble,” he told them.
The next thing he knows, the
man—a total introvert who reportedly
went about with eyes
down, rarely speaking above a
murmur—is out in the middle
of the street striking ridiculous
poses and making flowery
gestures designed to stop and
direct traffic so that a little old
lady can cross the street. He
then takes her arm and escorts
her to the opposite curb with
impressive aplomb.
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