my friends, i grew up in bridgeport, conn., the home of phineas taylor barnum. p.t. barnum, as he was known, was the greatest circus' showman in history. let me paint a picture for you of how it was when i was a boy in an industrial new england city in the circuit came to town . a mile-long train with 60 cars pulled into the trade station. trucks moved loads on to the fair grounds, and local kids began to gather to watch the roustabouts unpacked. finally they set out in three huge rings and played the big tent that seemed, to us, impossibly big. held the promise of a thrilling spectacle of flying trapeze acts, tight rope walkers, a human cannonball bonfire breeders, line tamar's. and then, just then when it seems as if things could not get any more exciting the roustabouts set up the sideshow acts, the parade of human curiosity, the freak show. these were the real mysteries of the circus, and children here and to see them. that also haunted than later. the bearded ladies, siamese twins, the living skeleton, that sought -- the giant, zip the pen had caught the line fa