The Gray Parade

I shivered with excitement as I watched the elephants emerge from the train cars one by one, steam rising off their broad gray backs. They waited impatiently for all to be assembled, like so many children lining up for recess. Back and forth they swayed from foot to foot touching one another lightly with their trunks until the signal was given. Then it was time.

The ground shook beneath my feet as the living wall of massive beasts approached, lumbering three abreast. Men with ironclad goads jogged alongside. With ears flapping and trunks rhythmically swaying, the elephants obediently picked up the pace for the long march from the railroad yard through the heart of Asheville. Though I longed to get as close to them as I possibly could, I instinctively stepped farther back from the edge of the elevated concrete platform on which I was standing. If I lost my balance, I would be crushed in an instant. They were enormous creatures.

The air was filled with the unfamiliar sounds of elephants grumbling and occasionally squealing like trumpets cut off in mid-measure. Steam billowed in clouds from their mouths, only to be immediately swept away as they passed through the vapors into the bitter cold of a dull February morning. I closed my eyes and inhaled the barnyard smell of hay and manure, overlaid with the scent of elephant musk. They passed swiftly by at my feet, wearing dusty capes of dried dung, sprinkled with bright flecks and stems of pale yellow hay like so much glitter upon their bristling shoulders and ridged backbones. “How did they get all that up on their backs?” I wondered in amazement. As if in answer to my unspoken question, one extended the probing finger of its trunk into the debris on the ground and flung it up over its back. 

A handler spoke sharply in a language I did not understand. Gunther Gebel-Williams, the Lord of the Rings himself, was dressed in common work clothes and strode alongside the largest elephant of all! His hand rested companionably on its flank as they swiftly moved out of sight. Such a pace! A small elephant brought up the rear, holding on to its mother’s tail for dear life. Distracted, he looked around and briefly let go. Suddenly, she trumpeted in annoyance, causing the gray parade to falter for a moment.The youngster squeaked in surprise and quickly caught back up, clutching her rope-like tail in his trunk once again. 

I smiled as they vanished into the morning fog, headed from the river up the hill toward the bowels of the civic center. The Greatest Show on Earth had arrived and brought the plains of Africa to the Smoky Mountains.

Kay O'Hara

February 9, 2015