February 4, 2001

Great Ascension

Undoubtedly it’s a great thrill to soar in a hot- air balloon, but not likely equal to the sensation that Archangel Gabriel created when he dropped in unexpectedly on Aunt Emma Joyner.

Blythesville, Arkansas, was not a big place back in 1927 when I was a lad visiting relatives there. Yet, it supported an amusement park that attracted visitors from near and far.

On special occasions, the park boosted business with some spectacular attraction “direct from Memphis” -- or some other sophisticated capital of the entertainment world.

Thus it was on July Fourth of that year that a record crowd gathered to see “The Great Balloon Ascension and Parachute Drop.”

It should be pointed out to young readers that air flight was still in its infancy those days. Balloons were a curiosity. Parachutes were miraculous.

According to advance posters, Count Borozini would ascend while hanging by his knees from a trapeze and then parachute to earth.

Even those folks who claimed to have seen an airplane in flight admitted they had never witnessed a parachute descent. The feat of floating to earth unhurt from a thousand feet in the stratosphere boggled the mind.

* * *

It took an hour for the Count to inflate his black balloon. It was attached to an iron grill under which he kept a coal fire burning. Black smoke and gases began to swell the balloon into gigantic proportions.

Excitement of the crowd grew in proportion to balloon size.

Finally the balloon towered twice as high as the Ferris wheel. Ropes were snapped to an iron ring holding open the neck of the bag. A score of willing men helped ease the balloon off the grill so Count Borozini could attach a trapeze.

With all in readiness, a band of musicians struck up a rousing march as the Count retired to his dressing tent. In a few minutes, he emerged in lavender tights, spangles and a white cape draped over his parachute.

Nonchalantly he “skinned the cat” a few times on the trapeze to “ohs” and “ahs” of admiration from the crowd. Poising momentarily, he signaled to cast off.

The balloon shot up as an arrow by a bow. As it did so, Count Borozini fell backward. Women screamed and two swooned.

But it was part of the show. The Count caught himself at the knees and was swiftly wafted upward, his head down, his cape floating behind.

It was a thrilling sight.

The Count skinned the cat a few more times and waved gaily to the crowd. Within five minutes the balloon was a baseball-size blob in the sky.

We waited anxiously for the climax -- straining to see what a parachuting daredevil would look like.

Presently a tiny figure plummeted from the trapeze. Count Borozini was falling, falling, falling.

Gasps. Had his parachute failed to open?

Then a blossom bloomed in the sky, and the Count swung to and fro from a crescent cloud. The balloon slowly up ended, spilling black smoke as it plummeted.

Everyone cheered!

* * *

Aunt Emma was back home at the farm, all alone.

This was unusual, for Aunt Emma was 92 years old, and her pilot light had gone out some years back.

Generally, she was not left by herself. She was still spry and took care of herself. However, she had some difficulty grasping what was going on around her.

She was having one of her better days on this occasion. It was judged safe to leave her alone for a couple of hours while the family attended the Great Ascension.

The wind that day carried the balloon – and the parachuting Count Borozini -- toward the Joyner farm.

Aunt Emma was feeding the chickens out back – a chore she performed frequently unless otherwise diverted. She glanced up to see a beautiful angel in lavender and sparkles descending to her on white wings.

The apparition landed gently in the cow pasture - - escaping any messy misadventure.

In ecstasy, Emma threw up her arms.

“Oh, Gabriel, I’m ready to go!” she exclaimed joyously.

Count Borozini was taken aback for a momen but soon grasped the situation.

In a kindly voice he replied, “I haven’t come for you this time, Sister. I’m just here to tell you the Lord has passed judgment on you, and a place in Glory is ready for you.”

“Hallelujah!”

* * *

About this time, the Count’s assistant in a Model-T Ford chugged up and invited Gabriel to get in. Aunt Emma understood that he was on his way to the Cumberland Presbyterian Church and would return to take supper with her that night.

When the Joyners returned from the big event, they found Aunt Emma in the kitchen singing “When the Roll Is Called Up Yonder I’ll Be There” -- and frying chicken for her expected, distinguished guest.

Gently they distracted her and ate the chicken themselves.

But Aunt Emma never forgot Gabriel’s visit or his reassuring message.

She died a year later with a smile on her lips, confident her place in Heaven was waiting.

And I’m sure it was.

ooooooooo

Author: Lindsey Williams