From Clowns to Chimps, Circus Communities Bury Their Dead Here

At these final resting places, the show truly goes on.

Cemeteries tend to be top destinations for those seeking chills in their travels, but there are a small handful across the country that soar above the rest. They honor a colorful troupe of folks with gravestones featuring clown noses, circus tents, chimpanzees, and top hats. There’s even a stone honoring a person named Popcorn. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages! Step right up and meet the mysterious, marvelous Showmen’s Rests.

Taking Care of Their Own

At the turn of the 20th century, traveling circuses and carnivals captured America’s collective imagination. From small, family-run operations to large-scale enterprises, it was the highlight of the year when a show rolled in on the rails. Performers were welcomed with great fanfare, introducing audiences to new music, strange animals, and incredible feats of strength and skill.

In a world without streaming services, Wi-Fi, or even moving pictures, it’s easy to see how the circus or carnival was as grand as it got, entertainment-wise.

It took an entire community to bring the big top or fairway to town. Every person and performer, from ringleaders down to roustabouts, had an important role in making magic happen. In 1913, a group of entertainment leaders recognized they needed to take care of their own, regardless of traditional hierarchy. They formed the Showmen’s League of America to provide support for all circus and carnival people through good times and bad. None other than Buffalo Bill Cody served as the League’s first president.

Eventually, the organization issued 40 charters across the country. Each location pledged to care for its members and provide burial for those who needed it. The tradition of the Showmen’s Rest was born.

Terrible Tragedy and Final Dignity

The League established its first Showmen’s Rest in 1917. With the purchase of a large plot at Woodlawn Cemetery near Chicago, the group ensured that every entertainer or worker it represented would have a final resting place.

The land was soon utilized in an unimaginable way.

The following year, 86 members of the Hagenback-Wallace circus died in a fiery train crash near Hammond, Indiana. In the days before DNA databases and dental records, the bodies’ conditions made identifying most of the dead a near-impossible task.

There was another complication. Back then, running away to join the circus wasn’t a mere euphemism for escape. It was a reality for those who left their past lives behind for a new start on the road. Many chose to stay anonymous and reinvented themselves by adopting pseudonyms. Without the benefit of today’s online footprints or Google searches, they stayed unknown.

“At that time, circuses and carnivals attracted very transient people,” explained Donnie Massie III, owner of Alpine Amusements and a League member. “A lot of them went by nicknames.”

When the League learned of the tragedy, less than 40 miles south of Chicago, it acted quickly to aid its brothers and sisters in need. The organization helped arrange for fill-in acts to join Hagenback-Wallace’s surviving members. In a true test of the adage, “the show must go on,” the circus missed just two performances despite the terrible accident.

Then, the organization sent for those who’d perished. A total of 56 victims were ultimately laid to rest at Woodlawn. A few of their markers denote nicknames or jobs: Baldy, Smiley, Four Horse Driver. Most of them are simply labeled “Unknown Male” or “Unknown Female.” While their true names were lost, their dignity was not.

“Showman’s League stepped up and said this is what we do,” Massie said. “Let’s bury these people.”

‘Under God’s Big Top’

Showmen’s Rests soon popped up all over the country. Some were established by charter members of the Showmen’s League, and others were established by different groups to support entertainers. While in different locations, they all shared a distinct difference from a typical cemetery plot–their fantastic big-top style memorials and markers.

Take, for example, the border around the original Showmen’s Rest near Chicago. Five large granite elephants keep permanent watch over their graves.

“When you take a look at them, you’ll see their trunks are all lowered to signify mourning and sorrow,” Massie said.

The southeastern town of Hugo, Oklahoma, once served as the headquarters and winter home for more than 20 small circuses. Perhaps then it’s little surprise a portion of its Mount Olivet Cemetery is marked off by pachyderm-topped posts and a stone monument declaring the area a “Tribute to All Showmen Under God’s Big Top.” Custom, elaborate gravestones honor clowns with their oversized shoes, high-wire walkers, trapeze artists, and animal trainers. There’s even a stone shaped like a circus tent, evoking memories of thrills, chills, and laughs of yesterday. Forty-three folks are buried at the Showmen’s Rest in St. Louis, their graves set apart from all the others by a large monument depicting an elephant under the Gateway Arch.

In all, there are more than a dozen rests in cemeteries stretching from Los Angeles up to San Francisco and all the way across the country to New York City. Each serves as proof of the commitment and care for a community bonded by the business of leaving audiences awestruck.

The Tradition Continues

While they were first established more than a century ago, many Showmen’s Rests remain active burial sites, with members of the entertainment community interred upon request. If they can’t pay, the League or associated clubs continue to step right up and assist. And attention to the sites extends past an individual’s memorial service.

“The Showmen’s League of America still gathers at Woodlawn Cemetery on Memorial Day,” explained Massie, whose own father was interred there several years ago. “You’ve got people who found a home in these circuses and carnivals, and so we remember our loved ones and all of our brothers and sisters that are buried in our plot. It’s our symbol of devotion to our industry.”

In St. Louis, the Show Kids, a group of young people interested in the entertainment industry, routinely help clean and tidy the graves in that city’s Showmen’s Rest. Volunteers at other locations also keep their rests neat and welcoming, a haven for curious living souls and those at eternal peace.

“People will just be driving by—not associated with the Showmen’s League—they’ll see our area and wander in to ask questions,” Massie said. “It’s got so much history, and people really gravitate toward it. It’s a sight to see.”