Boy Under Wire

I just finished watching the film “Man On Wire,” the documentary about Philippe Petit’s realization of his dream to cross between the towers of the World Trade Center on a tightrope in 1974. It is a wonderfully made film that I thoroughly enjoyed, but it brought back a very personal memory. While I was at Sarah Lawrence College, Petit came to perform. A huge group of us gathered in front of the performing arts center to watch him. One of the features of this building is a large metal column that supports a staircase in front of the main entrance to the theater and dance section of the building. As part of his performance, Petit tied a think rope around this column, about six feet above the ground.

He then chose five or six volunteers to hold the other end of the rope as taught as they possibly could. Petit looked through the rest of us in the audience, spotted me and beckoned me to step out of the crowd. He placed what I remember as a small folded towel on my right shoulder and had me stand so that the rope rested on the towel. He had those standing behind me pull taught again. He tested the rope, went over to the far end of the rope and hopped on. Philippe told me to look at in his eyes. It was quite difficult.

Difficult, because I wanted to watch his body, his feet, his arms as he stepped, hopped, danced, bounced on the rope as he entertained. Difficult because the tension on the rope dug into my shoulder, even through the towel. I kept moving my eyes from his eyes to his amazing feats and each time we re-made eye contact he softy asked, “are you all right? Are you okay?” and I would reply as softly, “yes.” It was an amazing connection for me. He wasn’t high up, but I knew if I slipped, if I faltered, then he would come crashing down on the stone pavers below. I knew I had to stay with him, be where he was to make it possible for him to display his talents. I was concentrating so hard, I was almost in a hypnotic state. If one of the people behind me lost their grip for a second, there were others to maintain the tension, if I screwed up, the rope would turn from a taught cable able to support a human being to a floppy coil on the ground.

I always dreamed of running away with the circus as a boy, perhaps that is why I worked as a magician and clown through my high school years, performing at birthday parties and charity affairs. Those few brief moments “working” with Philippe were as close as I ever got to the big top. When this film came out, I learned he lives near Woodstock, so he is actually not very far from where I live. I’ve met many celebrities in my life, worked with some incredibly talented actors, singers, dancers, chefs, but there was something ineffable about those few moments holding the rope for Philippe Petit, and they will forever remain a special part of my life.