Jerry’s Kids
Labor Day weekend in the 1970s included a television telethon featuring a passionate Jerry Lewis begging us to help ‘his kids’. Jerry’s Kids were the unfortunate children afflicted with Muscular Dystrophy. Wiping sweat from his brow, Jerry would joyfully thank his viewers for their generous contributions. As the dollars rolled in, the total tally collected was boldly displayed as people answered shrilling phones in the background.
My brothers and I were drawn to our television, watching the telethon into the night. We waited in anticipation of the next singer or celebrity to join Jerry on stage. They would join in his rallying cry to raise money for the Muscular Dystrophy Association (MDA). The annual MDA Telethon had us hooked, from the plight of the kids in wheelchairs to the tears rolling from Jerry’s eyes. His commitment and sympathy to this cause kept our attention.
The Labor Day Telethon was also a sign of change in our daily lifestyle. This was the official close of our carefree days of summer with the school year now in full force. Our TV watching quickly went from watching Jerry round-the-clock to settling into school night bedtime routines.
TV watching now happened after we arrived home from school. We would watch afterschool specials or reruns of Gilligan’s Island and The Brady Bunch, all while doing our homework over a bowl of cereal. On Saturday mornings we looked forward to new episodes of Scooby-Doo and Fat Albert. The Saturday morning finale before heading outdoors was the American Bandstand broadcast around lunchtime.
Saturday mornings with Dick Clark were a pillar in our childhood weekends. After watching the dancing teenagers, who were much older than us, we would answer along to Dick’s question as we knew the frequent answer.
Dick: “What did you like about the song?”
Bubbly Teenager: “It has a great beat and is so easy to dance to!”
We would roar in laughter when our words would mirror those coming from the shaggy-haired teens on our rabbit-eared antenna television set.
Sunday mornings gave us a different TV viewing spin with a locally broadcast kids’ show. Although on a lower budget and using local talent, we would attentively listen in to Canyon Kid’s Corner. From drawing contests to live children’s features, this was a favorite of kids living in the northwest corner of Iowa.
One Sunday the host of Canyon Kid’s Corner made an announcement that caught my attention.
“Children in the Sioux City area, you too can do something to help Jerry’s Kids! You can put on a carnival in your backyard to raise money for the MDA. Write to us and request an official carnival packet for the Jerry Lewis MDA Telethon and we will send you everything you need to help this great cause. Kids are helping other kids!!”
Grabbing a pencil and paper, I quickly wrote down the address displayed on the screen. School had just let out for the summer. I was all over putting on a carnival for Jerry’s Kids. There was an added enticement of the carnival bringing in the highest proceeds being highlighted on ta future Sunday show. Without hesitation, I wrote my request letter and delivered it to the Remsen Post Office.
The promised packet arrived a week later. Stamped with Jerry’s official telethon logo, the thick envelope was filled with preprinted posters, carnival tickets, and a folder with details on potential games. Step-by-step instructions were given on how to put on a carnival in your own backyard.
As I read through the packet, I knew my first order of business was to recruit others to be a part of our carnival crew. The Van Dam kids who lived close by were a perfect match. After securing help from my brothers, I knew that adding Bev and Rich Van Dam would fill a cohesive group in putting on a successful carnival. Bev was my best friend and her brother, Rich, was a close friend to both of my brothers. With more kids contributing, the bigger our chance to win the spotlight for the Canyon Kids’ Show.
With Bev, Rich, and my brothers on board (with ages spanning 10 to 12), we began writing our chosen carnival date onto the empty date line of the pre-printed posters. We spread the word to our neighborhood friends as we hung posters around town. Reading through the list of game suggestions, we mapped out which ones would work best in our backyard.
The choice of carnival location in my family’s backyard was an easy choice. As was typical in older houses, we had a detached garage. But ours had a very kid-friendly element of a cement basketball court in between the garage and our house. A metal swing set filled the shaded space next to the garage. When not tipping it as we swung, the light metal contraption served as a covered fort. The swing set was a perfect location for a blanket to shield my brother, Mark, as he attached the prizes to a fishing pole launched from the other side.
Other game choices included bowling into plastic cups, pulling rubber ducks from a baby pool, and ‘guess the card’ from playing cards shuffled and turned over on a small folding table. There was also a maze of sorts set up in our garage by my brother, Matt.
The difficult part was gathering prizes to give out to the winners of our games. We lived in an era where we didn’t have an abundance of toys accumulated from over-the-top birthday parties or collected from drive-through Happy Meals. Choosing which toys to give away was a big deal. The prizes needed to be worthy enough to be called a prize but would ultimately be a sacrifice from our toy boxes.
Carnival Day arrived, and the neighbor kids showed up in force. Under sunny skies we worked our designated game stations, trading coins for tickets stored in aprons, until our toy prizes ran out. There was one lone photo that was taken of our carnival for Jerry’s Kids. It was of me running the ‘bowling into plastic cups’ station. The back of the picture notes in my mom’s handwritten “Wagner Carnival, June 1977”.
As I was writing this story, I asked Mom to check her daily calendar entries for references to our carnival. I was looking for her insight on our big fundraiser.
Mom: “I went through all of June 1977 and even back to May. Nothing is noted in my calendar.”
She does remember us having a carnival but not much else. After I thought through how my meticulous mother could miss noting this memorable event, the answer was obvious. It was because she wasn’t involved. Upon further reflection, it was highly likely she hadn’t a clue about what we were up to until we asked to borrow aprons and props for our games. She didn’t put on the carnival, we did. It was just another day of her kids coming up with their own adventure. We were kids of the 70s which equated to our being in charge of daily entertainment.
Although I have no memory of the final amount of money raised from the carnival, I do know we did not collect enough to be deemed the carnival winner for Canyon Kid’s Corner. I do remember that other Remsen kids followed our lead and held neighborhood carnivals for Jerry’s Kids throughout the rest of the summer.
That fall when the Jerry Lewis Telethon adorned our television screen with Jerry again crying while thanking supporters, I waited until the moment that our carnival donation scrolled the TV screen. This two-second credit for our small monetary contribution gave me a sense of pride. Although we were not the top-earning carnival to be featured on live television, I knew that collectively the kids from Remsen made a difference for Jerry’s Kids.
