TATTOOED KING OF THE MIDWAY-
THE LEGENDARY CAPT. DON LESLIE
As told to Mr. G and Madame Chinchilla

THE STORY OF HIS LIFE
In 1986, Chinchilla and I were beginning a fantastic tattoo adventure. What exciting times for us as we somersaulted into this fascinating new world. We found that one of the great things about subscribing to a traditional apprenticeship is that in due course one is introduced to senior members of the "tattoo family." Our teacher, Bert Rodriquez, was doing the traditional apprentice mentoring by also promoting and initiating us into the family. One of the most treasured friendships that we developed through our introduction into this new family was the one with Capt. Don Leslie.

Twenty years of tattooing sometimes feels like just a few short weeks ago. It was a small tattoo world in the mid-1980s. Capt. Don was a young man of 48. Hell everybody was young! Lyle Tuttle, Henry Goldfield, Chuck Eldridge…all of us were 20 years younger. This would be the core of our new family. What a golden opportunity to rub elbows with such a great group of tattooists.

Ed Hardy had just published his first TattooTime books. We were meeting many of the same people from these pages in the shops of San Francisco. We were the new kids, the apprentices. I believe that as we slowly showed our commitment through apprenticeship and genuine respect, the obscure inner sanctum of tattooing was unveiling itself.

Every chance we had we would go to Lyle Tuttle's Seventh Street shop, over the bus station, up those stairs. We would stay for hours in the museum, studying Lyle's amazing tattoo collection. We would watch, eyes wide open, while talented artists buzzed away. On many occasions Lyle's friend Capt. Don Leslie would also be visiting.

We would cross the bay to Berkeley and Chuck Eldridge would guide us through the massive Tattoo Archive collection, pulling out photographs, drawings and letters, file after file, painstakingly accurate and organized. It was a gigantic amount of information to take in. Before the Internet, this was the mother lode of obscure tattoo history. We would repeatedly make field trips to the Tattoo Archive. Again, Capt. Don would cross our path. Everyone was our teacher in one way or another. This was our new family, and they held the keys to the past.

During the '80s, Capt. Don wintered the off season in San Francisco at Goldfield's on Broadway. He was a regular visitor to the Frisco shops as well as the many tattoo parties and conventions. We would often meet up with Capt. Don in the back room of various shops, and visit for hours. Eventually, we became the very best of friends.

Through his storytelling, the Captain made circus and tattoo history come alive. He would open his brightly painted circus trunks and share the magic of times gone by. He would paint the smell of canvas, popcorn and cotton candy. For us, the Captain's stories would light up the midway of vague childhood memories: a dark small town pasture, lit by the fleeting neon lights. Loud generators rumbled in the glow of a three-ring circus tent in a sleepy Indiana field. Overnight, between endless rows of corn and the freshly mowed alfalfa, the old farm's driveway became an enchanted circus midway. Tall, painted ticket stands manned by mysterious nomads in stylish hats gently reached down for your childhood nickel. Then you would pass the spotlit stages.

Chinchilla and I would listen endlessly to Capt. Don's stories, while peeking at the treasures from within the classic weathered trunks. And we would recall the circus of the late 1950s: The freak show. The rare marvel acts. His tales would conjure visions of the Fat Lady sitting on a bending stage. A silk-shirted penguin boy looking you in the eye from within the grass-floored tent. The Iron Tongued Dwarf deliberately running a hook attached to a heavy weight through his long tongue, lifting it. I remembered my childhood embarrassment, as I began to sweat and faint in front of my boyhood friends. I needed to brace myself against the rope and wooden poles. How did he do such an amazing strange feat? What was this shocking, weird world within this ancient canvas tent erected in Small Town, U.S.A.?

Then, what we had all been waiting for: Capt. Don Leslie, the Tattooed Man, Guinness World Record Sword swallower. It was his title, his role, his life. One of the last of the tattooed people put on exhibit for the circus sideshow. Many people don't know or forget: heavily tattooed people used to be so very rare in the 1950s and '60s. It's so strange and unusual that people paid money to see this oddity. Nowadays, tattooing is mainstream. The public sees full sleeves, backpieces, even the unspeakable face tattoos-everywhere. They even have tattoos for Jesus on the born-again Christian television network. The times have changed dramatically but, back in the mid-1900s, few people had the opportunity to view heavily tattooed people except in the circus sideshow.

Modern tattooing is a direct descendent of circus sideshow tattooing. Gus Wagner, Paul Rogers, Percy Waters, Sailor West, Danny Danzl; the list is mighty long. These artists worked as tattooed sideshow attractions as well as tattooing out of small midway tents. Their flash was pinned onto the same blanket they would use for sleeping at night. Two chairs, a few sheets of flash and what equipment could fit into a suitcase or a small trunk. Capt. Don Leslie and these sideshow tattooers brought tattoos to the people. Any sideshow worth its weight had at least one artist, one tattooed attraction. These sideshow attractions and artists from the last century are a valuable key in understanding our present day tattoo scene. To be able to tap the mind of and befriend one of these legends is an opportunity beyond measure, and we are very privileged to have stories from the incredible life of the colorful Capt. Don Leslie.

When I talked to him in the summer of 2006, Capt. Don Leslie was bedridden, battling cancer. I mentioned to him that I was writing an article about him for SKIN&INK. I voiced concern that I may not have the time for him to proofread the final story. I was also afraid I would screw up some historical facts. The Captain assured me that everything would be fine. He had the utmost trust in my ability to interpret the events of his life. But there was one important fact that he thought I probably was not aware of, a very important detail that he did not want lost. He said this to me over the phone, with a very weak voice from his sickbed: "Make sure to tell everyone my cock really is 16 inches." Then he laughed like a little kid.

One time, Capt. Don had a rough end to the circus season. The circus he was working for couldn't pay him quite a bit of the money that he had earned. The management intended to get the money to Don, but there would be a few weeks' delay. The Captain was stranded with very little money. He was up in Maine and needed to get to Florida. With a few dollars and an old car, Don decided he would take partial payment with a bunch of monkeys that no one wanted. He could sell them to another circus in Florida. The monkeys would have a nice winter home once they arrived and the Captain would have a little cash to hold him over until the check arrived.

The story the Captain was telling had us laughing to tears. A grown man, in a car full of monkeys, on a 800-mile trip. It was quite a scene. The monkeys were shitting all over the place, tearing the interior to shreds, pulling his hair, grabbing the wheel and causing other motorists to freak out. They stopped at a truck plaza for a break. Capt. Don was able to trade one of the cute monkeys to a waitress for a meal and a little cash. At this point, the Captain was beside himself, so he went into the liquor store, bought a fifth and some smokes. Still with a dozen monkeys in the car, he hit the road.

Chinchilla asked, "Then what happened?

The Captain replied, "I really don't remember. All I know is, I was drunk, bruised up and in jail and my car was a total wreck. Fucking monkeys can't drive worth a shit."

-Mr. G

READ ALL ABOUT CAPT. DON'S LIFE, IN HIS OWN WORDS.
Plus pages and pages of amazing photos! Don's story fills nearly half of this special, March 2007 collectors' issue. Purchase a copy at your local Barnes & Noble, 7-Eleven, Borders, neighborhood bookstore or newsstand or by calling Customer Service at (800) 800-6544. You'll be happy you did!

-Editor