The musings of Sean Paul Murphy: Editor, Producer, Screenwriter, Author. Or, Hollywood -- and beyond -- as seen from an odd little corner of northeast Baltimore, Maryland.
Sean Paul Murphy, Writer
Sean Paul Murphy, Storyteller
Monday, April 3, 2023
Grave Tales #37: John H. "Johnny Eck" Eckhardt
I am an avid genealogist. The past is very important to me. I spend a lot of time in cemeteries photographing tombstones to upload on website theFindAGrave.
I enjoy recognizing long dead people by putting memorials to them online. However, every once and a while something grabs me about a specific grave. It could be the name, or the dates or a ceramic photo. In those cases, I feel compelled to dig a little deeper. That's what this series of blogs is about: The tales behind those graves. Some of my subjects will be heroes. Some will be villains. Some will be victims. And some will linger in between, like most of us. However, don't be surprised if the tales are inherently tragic. These are grave tales. They all end in death.
This is another tale from Baltimore's historic Green Mount Cemetery, where you can find stories without even looking for them. This was just a simple tombstone like hundreds of others I had photographed. The name John H. Eckhardt didn't ring a bell. I didn't even realize it was the final resting place of the famous Johnny Eck until I got home later. Johnny Eck was the self-proclaimed King of the Freaks. Don't get mad at me for calling him that. That's how he identified himself.
Here's his story:
The Evening Sun (Baltimore, Maryland), 04 March 1991, Mon:
A Most Remarkable Man Has Died
-----
Johnny Eck, 79, a freak, an artist,
a positive, optimistic, loving soul.
by Stephanie Shapiro
Evening Sun Staff
BALTIMORE'S JOHNNY ECK, called "The Most Remarkable Man Alive!" by Robert Ripley, is dead.
Eck was born with no legs, a deformity that propelled him to an early career as an astonishingly agile sideshow oddity, and a featured role in the 1932 cult film classic, "Freaks." He died in his sleep Jan. 5 in the East Baltimore home where he and his twin brother were born. He was 79.
Eck is buried in a Greenmount Cemetery family plot. It was a quiet leave-taking for a man whose joy in life was later doused by disappointment in the changing world around him.
While known to his international following as the "King of the Freaks," Eck was known in Baltimore as a gifted painted screen artist with a soaring spirit.
Ann Moran, wide of Eck's nephew Edmund Moran, remembers Johnny. "I guess I knew him pretty close as anybody. He was sort of fun loving and very artistic, of course. And he had a lot of things that happened throughout his lifetime; he traveled quite extensively, and he actually at one time had a car built for him that he could drive through the streets. It was a small one, but nevertheless, he had it."
In a recollection originally intended for publication as a biography, Eck related his birth one August night in 1911:
"On a hot summer night, some years ago during a violent thunderstorm, in the second-floor bedroom of a red-brick rowhouse there would occur an event that would shock the neighborhood."
Twenty minutes after Robert emerged from the womb, "a second baby began to emerge with more than half of it seemingly missing. This baby [had] almost nothing below his ribcage -- a monster? It weighed two pounds."
Eck was embraced by his family. "It was as if God himself had chosen this family for me to be born in," he recalled.
By the time they were 4, the Eckhardt twins, tutored by their big sister Carolyn, had learned to read and write, and soon, they were running their own amateur post office, from which they sent, received and sold their own homemade greeting cards.
Johnny, as well as his brother, showed an early aptitude for art, and he studied oil painting and drawing at the neighborhood studio of William Octavec, creator of Baltimore's first screen painting.
Later, when traveling on the "freak-show circuit," Eck would design his own promotional material. Both adept woodworkers, the Eckhardt brothers also constructed an elaborate, functional miniature circus.
As a child, Eck wanted most of all to become a locomotive engineer, an obvious impossibility. But his mother would carry him to the edge of the old Eager street railroad tracks, where he would lie on the gravel and watch the freight cars fly by Highlandtown.
Later in life, Eck and his brother would purchase a miniature train and operate it for children at church carnivals around the state.
Eck proved to be an irrepressible entertainer, with a flair for banter and rhetoric. He claimed his mother's hopes for him to become a preacher were dashed when after one impromptu sermon on the wages of sin, he took up a collection among guests and earned 65 cents.
Eck's prowess and charisma were detected early by an unsavory manager who would plague him for years. Under contract with the manager, the brothers left school around age 12 and went on the road with their own carnival show, billed as "Johnny Eck the Half Boy -- the World's Greatest Curiosity."
"I was a performer, walked a tight rope, worked on trapeze, juggled -- I did everything," Eck recalled in the book, "America's Forgotten Folk Arts."
Eck relished life among society's fringe elements.
"I met hundreds and thousands of people, and none finer than the midgets and Siamese twins and the caterpillar man and the bearded woman and the human seal with the little flippers for hands. I never asked them any embarrassing questions and they never asked me, and God, it was a great adventure," he told a Baltimore Sun columnist in 1979.
Eck's appearances at the 1931 Canadian National Exhibition led to a role in "Freaks," Tod Browning's controversial film about a loyal clan of deformed circus performers.
Later, Eck appeared briefly in two other Hollywood films and in a dramatic magic act in which he and a cooperative midget played a man cut in half.
With the demise of the freak show circuit, Eck and his brother resettled in Baltimore.
Screen painting, at first a seasonal occupation for Eck, became a full time job. Folklorist Elaine Eff, a long-time scholar of the traditional East Baltimore art of decorating screen doors and windows, met Eck in 1974.
Eck always "prefaced the story of his life with 'I was different from the rest,'" Eff says. But Eck's physical limitations were not all that made him different, she says.
"The truth is, that difference [was also] in terms of kindness and love of life and total optimism. In face of a life that dealt him an unequal hand, he was always a unique individual, really the most positive, and optimistic and loving soul, appreciative of the tiniest nod toward him," Eff remembers.
As a screen painter, Eck specialized in snow and religious scenes. He forged his landscapes and portraits in vibrant colors and boasted that he lent an animated dimension to his work; his lighthouses blinked and his old mill wheels splashed with water. Eck's work was featured in a 1984 painted screen exhibit at Artscape, coordinated by Eff.
Eck was one of the central figures in Eff's 1988 documentary, "The Screen Painters." In the film, he is captured commenting on the local marketplace. While hinting that other screen painters sold themselves short, Eck prided himself on charging what he believed he deserved for his artistry. "You know what I charge? I charge $5 and $10 just to talk to people!" he exclaims in the film.
In a 1985 letter to a friend, Eck expressed the heady feeling of making a living as an artist, unfettered by carny corruption.
"Lordy me," he wrote, "to think how I 'floundered,' toiled, in all kinds of weather on the road -- circus, carnival, nightclubs, movies, theater -- and was always exploited by sharp crooks, managers and my best friends!"
In the same letter, Eck expressed regret he could not afford to receive in style the fans from around the world who stopped by his house. "....I am so embarrassed -- I would love to be financially able to entertain these wonderful people in a refined way -- a tiny sandwich, cold cola or something...."
In 1988, thieves broke into Eck's home, assaulted him, took his and his brother's belongings. The incident, and other ongoing harassment, broke the twins' spirit.
No longer did Eck sit on his marble steps petting Major, his Chihuahua, as he held court with friends and neighborhood children. No longer did he receive curious strangers. And gone was the dream of operating his miniature train with Rob in the Maryland countryside. The twins lost touch with all but their closest family.
Besides Robert Eckhardt and Ann Moran, Eck leaves behind another nephew, R. Patrick Moran.
Ms. Shapiro did an excellent job summing up Eck's life! The story was well-researched and affectionate. I commend her. I also commend Johnny Eck, aside from the disillusioning assault and robbery near the end of his life, it seemed like he was a talented man who made the best of everything. That is probably a result of his upbringing. It does seem as if God had chosen the best possible family for him.
After that story I hardly felt the need to add anything, but I couldn't resist. Here's one of the earliest stories I found about him:
The York Dispatch (York, Pennsylvania), 09 Oct 1924, Thu:
Born Without Legs
One of the most unusual attractions on the midway is Johnny Eck, 16 years old, who was born without legs or a stomach. He weighs 35 pounds and is 17 inches tall and sometime ago was graduated from Strayer's Business College, Baltimore, in which city he was born. The boy is able to jump rope, do trapeze work and ride a kiddy car, with almost the same ease as a youngster with legs. His twin brother is the same as any other normal boy. He is a student at the same college from which Johnny graduated with high honors.
Hmmm, according to the obituary he left school at the age of twelve. In this story, he graduated from Strayer's Business College. I suspect the obituary was correct.
Saskatoon Daily Star (Saskatchewan, Canada), 26 Jul 1927, Tue:
JOHNNY ECK
Known as the "half boy" or perhaps more correctly called the "quarter boy," Johnny Eck is one of the world's most remarkable human oddities. Johnny's body finishes at his waist, his stomach being in his chest. He is 17 years old, being born in Baltimore, Md. But he is such a cute little character, apparently happy and contented with life, that a visit to his tent is a delightful surprise, as many passersby believe that it must be something of an illusion. But "Quarter Boy" Johnny is right there alive, singing and kicking and dancing (with his hands) and making all visitors happy. The picture above shows Johnny with his twin brother.
Although the life on the midway would be considered abhorrent today, Johnny seemed to genuinely like it, That was an attitude he seemed to maintain throughout his life. Although he would later complain about corrupt managers and exhibitors, he seemed to enjoy the travel and the people he met. Fortunately, Johnny always had his twin brother Robert on the road with him. Robert was incorporated in his act as his straight man.
Below you will find the kind of advertisement that accompanied Johnny's arrival in a town.
The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette (Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania), 11 Mar 1930, Tue:
Greater than the Siamese Twins? Seems like competition was fierce on the midway circuit. The Depression era audiences only had so much money.... However, soon everyone with the money for a movie ticket could see Johnny.
The Baltimore Sun (Baltimore, Maryland), 24 Feb 1932, Wed:
Role Of Half Man
In Freaks Taken
By Baltimorean
-----
Johnny Eck, Appearing In
Film Feature At The Stanley,
Is Native Of City And Has
Normal Twin Brother
-----
The half-man in Freaks, who walks on his hands and plays an important part in the trapping of the villains, is a Baltimorean, Johnny Eck by name, and a familiar figure in the circus world. Mr. Eck, who was reared in East Baltimore and has a normal twin brother, was a guest of honor at the pre-view of the motion picture held a week ago at the Stanley Theater.
In real life Mr. Eck is mild and good-natured--not at all like the ferocious fellow in the film. In order to participate in the making of Freaks, he went to California with his manager, John T. McCaslin, Baltimore showman, and his experiences in the picture colony, he said, were wholly agreeable.
No photo from the local premiere. That's a pity. McCaslin wasn't much of a showman if he couldn't arrange that!
For those unfamiliar with the plot, here's the logline from the IMDB: "A circus' beautiful trapeze artist agrees to marry the leader of side-show performers, but his deformed friends discover she is only marrying him for his inheritance."
The film became quite notorious and was banned in many places. It is now accepted as a cult classic.
The following is a nice little illustrated press piece.
The Evening Sun (Baltimore, Maryland), 28 March 1940, Thu:
Later in life, Johnny seemed willing to appear in smaller venues and events, but I suspect he took it in stride. For example, he appeared at a high school band fundraiser in the following story:
The Shamokin News-Dispatch (Shamokin, Pennsylvania), 18 Sep 1952, Thu:
MANY ATTEND SHS
BAND BOOSTER PARTY
Large crowds attended Shamokin High School Band Boosters' Association block party Tuesday and Wednesday evenings in Lincoln Schoolyard, Market and Mulberry Streets, and another large attendance is expected this evening.
Highlight of the last evening's entertainment was the appearance of Johnny Eck, billed as the only living half man in the world. Eck performed from the top of an eight-foot ladder. He has appeared with many circuses and other shows throughout the nation, and at one time traveled with the late Bob Ripley.
Another feature of the evening's entertainment was a show presented by Jean Foieri and her Wonder dogs. Johnny Eck and Miss Foieri will return tomorrow evening to give repeat performances for block party visitors....
Proceeds from the party will be used to purchase overcoats for band members. The overcoats, which already have been ordered, are expected to arrive next month.
I don't know when Johnny stopped giving live shows, but memories of him lingered on. Here's a comment by a Canadian sportswriter.
North Bay Nugget (North Bay, Ontario), 05 Sep 1970, Sat:
Johnny Eck, the "half-boy"
Well, the "Ex" is in full swing, and memories come flooding back of boyhood days along the Midway.
The sideshow that intrigued me was Johnny Eck, the Half-Boy.
"Come and see Johnny Eck, the pretty little half-boy," droned the barker. "In fact, he's more of a quarter of a boy than a half-boy!"
And the barker was right. Johnny Eck was perched on a cushion inside the tent, and when he wanted to move, he walked -- on his hands.
The barker imparted the information that Johnny's stomach was located in his back. He didn't mention any other vital organs. Johnny climbed the stairs, even a ladder, and showed in various other ways how he had overcome his handicap.
I watched three performances, moving around the tent to keep out of the way of the barker, who finally spotted me and told me to vacate the premises.
I did so reluctantly. I was fascinated by Johnny Eck. I guess he's long dead. Does anyone else remember John Eck, the "pretty little half-boy" of the "Ex" midway? A freak of nature he was, to be sure, but he left a lasting impression on this writer.
No, Johnny Eck was not long dead. He was probably back in Baltimore by then pursuing his second career as a screen painter. Most of the stories about his later life discuss his work as a painter. I won't recount them since I think Ms. Shapiro did an excellent job discussing his later career in her obituary.
I couldn't find a story about the robbery and assault that left him embittered and isolated in his final days. I regret I wasn't one of those curious visitors who came to see him before then. By that time, I was established in the advertising business in Baltimore and I might have been able to find him some work -- if he were interested. Imagine Johnny Eck popping out of a suitcase in a Choice Hotels commercial....
I can't finish this blog without giving you the opportunity to see Johnny Eck. Here's a scene from the film Freaks. You'll be able to pick him out.
Remember, there is a story behind every grave. You never know what you're missing when you walk past one....
My novel Chapel Street is now available! You can buy the Kindle and paperback at Amazon and the Nook, paperback and hardcover at Barnes & Noble. Chapel Street is the tale of a young man battling a demonic entity that has driven members of his family to suicide for generations. It was inspired by an actual haunting.
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