I was born in 1972.  That same year, a Chicago area business owner and community volunteer named John Wayne Gacy lured a 16 year old named Timothy McCoy from the Greyhound bus terminal with a promise to show him a magic trick. When he got Timothy back to his home he assaulted and murdered him, the first of at least 33 murders Gacy committed, many with the same M.O. 

Gacy’s crimes were discovered in 1978, and he was sentenced to death in 1980. The late 70s were a big time for serial killers (Ted Bundy would be tried in Florida in 1979) and they were all over the news. I can remember watching the coverage, which was ubiquitous. At least by the standards of the day. And the one thing that stood out to me more than anything else was that Gacy was a clown. 

I had seen clowns. And while I never particularly enjoyed them, I was at least neutral. I knew other kids that loved them. I just remember being horrified that something that was supposed to be so joyous could be so completely evil.

A few years after Gacy’s conviction, I got a new book from the local library. It was 1986. It was central Texas. There wasn’t a lot of oversight about what kids checked out. I was reading, that was good enough for most adults. And so I was able to check out a book that I could have, but probably shouldn’t have: It by  Stephen King. It is a story about a lot of things, but, at its most basic, it is a story about a clown that terrorizes and kills children. 

Between John Wayne Gacy and It I am scared shitless of clowns. Profoundly, honestly, openly terrified. I have been shot at, been in fights, been arrested (more than once), gone to jail, spent time in a mental facility, been to Iraq and Afghanistan, and I once drank expired milk. I also have 5 kids, two with disabilities and two more with mental health challenges. There is not a lot that scares me. 

Clowns are at the top of that list.

And it is easy enough to  give the history - to talk about Gacy and about It - and say that’s it, that’s the reason that I hate clowns. That’s the source of the fear. At least on the surface.

I think the real reason for the fear is deeper.

Gacy, It, news stories, books, movies, video games. These are not the source of fear. They are the things that scare us, make us nervous, or trigger anxiety. But fear? Fear is deeper. Fear is something deep inside of us that can take over and affect every single fiber of our being. Being scared may lead to fear. But it’s possible to feel fear when you are in the safest place in the world. Because fear is internal.

I think of fear as the opposite of courage. We tell our kids that courage is being able to feel afraid of something and do it anyway. I am afraid of heights. I used to jump out of airplanes for a living. Being afraid of heights did not prevent me from fulfilling my airborne mission.

Fear is seeing all the reasons to NOT be afraid and feeling scared anyway. Fear is seeing all the ways you are safe, and feeling unsafe anyway. Fear is the inability to see hope. John Wayne Gacy didn’t do that to me, nor did Pennywise the clown.

When I was 7 years old, sometime between Gacy’s trial and his sentencing, I was molested by a friend of a friend of my mothers at a party she threw at our house. I was shocked, surprised, and confused by what happened. And I never told anyone because I was desperate to be seen as a “cool” kid who was “like an adult.” When I heard on the news about what Gacy had done, I knew how it must’ve felt to be one of those 33 boys. I knew that fear. Not being scared of what might happen. The fear that comes from being a small child and realizing that you don’t have a choice about anything. Not really.

I was 14 when I first read It, and by the time I read it I had been sexually abused by my stepfather for 2 years. So when I read a novel about how monsters prey on kids with broken hearts who come from broken homes, I already knew that was true. Some kids talked about being “scared” by It. The book didn’t scare me. It was just a book.

Knowing the truth behind it filled me with fear. 

What are you afraid of? Where does that fear come from? Like, really come from? We all have things that make us scared. I don’t like sudden noises. Or fireworks. They scare me. 

Clowns are something different for me. They represent fear. They are tied up with trauma and memory. What’s your clown?

I think it is important to identify our fear. I have a fortune cookie fortune in my wallet that says “to see your drama clearly is to be liberated from it.” I am not sure that there has ever been a one sentence encapsulation of my life philosophy. At least not one in a fortune cookie. In order to be truly free of the things that hold us back, it is essential that we see it. That we understand. 

Clowns used to trigger me - in the truest sense of that word. Now they merely annoy me. I know what they are, and I know what they are not. And every day, I take another step forward.

May it ever be so.