Parking and Clowns

I just remembered a cute story from a Thunder past.  Parking on the Saturday of the air show and fireworks is at a premium, and if you have property of any kind in downtown Jeffersonville or near the waterfront, then you can pick up a few extra bucks.  Homeowners rope off the street in front of their homes and charge $10 to $20 to motorists to park in their yards, driveways, etc.  Businesses donate parking areas to Boy or Girl Scouts or other charitable organizations who use it as a one-day fundraiser.

Our friend Jewell, of whom I've written before, has a vacant, grassy lot downtown, where her parents' home used to stand.  It is a good-sized lot, with a couple of trees on it.  Her daughter has been opposed to her selling it, or she probably would have long ago.  She does nothing with it, except pay property taxes on it every year.  So on the day of Thunder Over Louisiville, a relative of hers has for many years rented out parking space for whatever the going rate is.  After the property taxes are taken care of, he gets to keep the rest and can usually make a few hundred on that day.

A few years ago he was unable to do it for Jewell, so she asked if we'd like to.  She really needed someone she could trust, and we hadn't had any real plans for going down to see the fireworks, so we said we would.  The kids helped us; Eler Beth was about 6 years old at the time.  It was about midday, and business was beginning to pick up with people who wanted to get parked and get down to the river before the air show started.  There are always a few who start their partying early (or who have carried it over from the night before), and we had a few of those come by, but mostly the crowd was pretty tame. 

But as I was manning my post at the property's entrance I heard Thomas exclaim, "That clown just took off with the stop sign!"  A group of young men, who'd started their celebrating early, had managed to actually pull up a city stop sign and were carrying it down the street!  Eler Beth, who'd been standing with her dad, came running up to me with a look of sheer terror on her face, and she kept looking over her shoulder.  "Daddy said a clown stole the stop sign, and he's running after it!  What if the clown gets him?"  I swear I tried not to laugh!  She was serious!  She was very, very afraid of clowns, and it took me a minute to get her to calm down.  Finally I was able to convince her that it was just a guy and not a real clown; that dad had said that like he might have said, "that fool" or "that idiot".

"Ok, phew!" she said, looking mightily relieved.  "I guess Dad will be okay then!"

And he was.  He came walking back in a few minutes carrying the sign, and we called city police to send someone to put it back up.  But I'm pretty sure he could have handled it even if it had been a real clown!