A Performing Elephant Never Forgets | Only in New England
We started performing together when I was 12: fairs, circuses, amusement parks, TV. Eventually, I left for college and my father died. My mother and I made the hard decision to say goodbye to Queenie. Her journeys thereafter took her to circuses in Michigan and California. In 2001 she came to Wild Adventures in Valdosta, Georgia.
When I learned where Queenie was living, I flew down to visit. I hadn’t seen her for nearly 40 years. She had developed a distrust of people. But when I saw her, I spoke her name. Her ears went out; she smelled my hands and then my feet. It was as if we’d never been apart. I cried; she stood there, touching me with her trunk.
I’ve visited Queenie three times now. Each time is the same: We touch and I cry. When I leave, I say, “I’ll see you again as soon as I can.” This June, Queenie and I will hug again.