In the fall and winter of 1971-1972 WC student taught at Sheldon High School in Eugene, Oregon. WC bicycled from his apartment up on 25th to Sheldon High at the then-northeast margin of Eugene. The ride was mostly flat, but the first bit involved coming down a slight hill and a left hand corner onto 18th Street. One foggy, drizzly morning, WC came around the corner, head down because of the rain, and ran into an elephant.
Seriously, WC hit an adult female Asian elephant at the corner of 18th Street and Emerald at about 7:15 AM on a weekday morning.
WC’s bicycle went under the elephant’s belly. WC was scraped off his bike to slide through the moldy leaves, puddles, drowned earthworms and asphalt to fetch up against the curb. A small man appeared, waving what looked like a spear, screaming at WC in what must have been Hindustani. WC was stretched out in the gutter, the wind completely knocked out of him.
And then the elephant stepped on WC’s bicycle.
Stuff like this doesn’t seem to happen to other people.
The Eugene City Police Department was called. Statements were taken. WC already had a … file … at Eugene’s Finest. Well, several files. So there was a protracted interlude with several police officers, a large animal veterinarian, the principal of Sheldon High School and the University of Oregon Dean of Students. In the end, the elephant hadn’t been injured by WC or his bicycle. The elephant handler got a ticket for obstructing traffic. And WC, on his own dime, got to have his bicycle repaired at 13th Street Cycle.
(“Jesus, what happened to your bike?” “An elephant stepped on it.” “If you don’t want to tell me, okay, but you don’t have to rude.”)
Oddly, WC’s only road rash from the accident came from scraping the belly of the elephant; pachydermatitis, as it were. A small price to pay. At least in comparison to repairing the bicycle. It was the talk of Sheldon High School for a few days.
A small circus had arrived overnight, and had set up a temporary camp on the north side of the track field. The elephant handler was walking his elephant. It wasn’t like it would fit on the sidewalk.
But the story didn’t end there. The large animal veterinarian reported the elephant showed signs of physical abuse. Eventually, criminal animal abuse charges were brought against the small circus. By then WC was long gone from Eugene, but he was told afterwards that the circus plead to a minor offense, surrendered its elephants to a facility in California, paid a small fine and vanished.
The abuse of elephants didn’t stop, of course. It’s going on today, and if you care even slightly about large animals, you won’t go near a large animal circus. The abuse and long history of abuse is horrifying.
- It’s a classic image: elephants lumbering trunk to tail. But is this docility born of positive reinforcement—or fear of being beaten? Keith Meyers/The New York Times/Redux
But WC takes slight comfort in knowing that, in a very small, completely inadvertent way, through a bicycle accident, he helped save one elephant from abuse.
Wickersham's Conscience 