To the egress
Evan Zabawski | TLT From the Editor October 2020
A lesson learned at a cost.
P.T. Barnum, America’s greatest showman.
When reading about lubricant contamination, it is common to see the term “ingression” used to describe entry of contaminants like moisture or airborne particles. Ingression is such an uncommon word that one will find the word being defined even in books like George E. Totten’s Handbook of Hydraulic Fluid Technology where it states, “The word ‘ingression’ refers to the introduction of particles into lubricants and hydraulic fluids, regardless of the source (external and internal).” The word simply stands out, but maybe that was the intent, as it was for the following famous use of its antonym.
Before showman P.T. Barnum teamed up with James Anthony Bailey, he operated the American Museum from 1841 to 1865. As the most popular attraction of its time, it was much more than a museum. Barnum’s self-professed goal was “to make the museum the town wonder and talk of the town,” so he combined elements of a zoo, a wax museum, a freak show and a theater with the lecture hall and natural history collection of the previous owners of the museum. Under Barnum’s control, the museum was open 15 hours a day and saw upward of 15,000 visitors (at 25 cents apiece) per day. This success spurred one of his most memorable attractions.
In his book titled Struggles and Triumphs, Barnum recalled that at 1 p.m. on July 4, 1852, “my museum was so densely crowded that we could admit no more visitors, and we were compelled to stop the sale of tickets.” He then went to the roof “hoping to find room for a few more, but it was in vain.” He claimed he saw “thousands of people who stood ready with their money to enter the museum, but who were actually turned away.”
He quickly located his carpenter and assistants and told them to cut through a partition and floor so that a temporary flight of stairs could be added to allow people to exit away from the entrance. Barnum said that by 3 p.m., a few people were using the stairs, and a corresponding number were allowed in at the front, but that he lost a large amount of money that day. He vowed to have this extra exit ready for future holidays.
In early March of the following year, he was apparently notified by the Irish population that they intended to visit the museum in great number on St. Patrick’s Day in the morning, so he asked his carpenter to prepare the exit once more. He also ordered his assistant manager to prevent visitors from exiting out the front and to use the temporary rear exit.
When the day came, the museum reached capacity by noon, and ticket sales were stopped. When Barnum visited the exit, he “asked the sentinel how many hundreds had passed out?” He was told “why only three persons have gone out by this way and they came back, saying that it was a mistake and begging to be let in again.” When Barnum tried to coax a mother and her children out by the front door, she informed him that she, nor her children, had any intention of leaving, “for we’ve brought our dinners and we are going to stay all day.” He soon realized most of his visitors planned to make a day of it.
Seizing upon a scene painter, he asked him to “take a piece of canvas four feet square, and paint on it, as soon as you can, in large letters— ☞ TO THE EGRESS.” Finishing in 15 minutes, the painter was asked to nail it over the door leading to the back stairs. Once visitors espied the new sign, they presumed an egress was some type of animal and “began to pour down the back stairs” in search of one more exhibit, only to find themselves out on the street. At that, Barnum could start allowing new visitors inside, and if anyone came around asking to be let back in, they were welcome to do so—for another 25 cents!
Preying on the ignorance of his visitors not knowing egress meant exit, Barnum showed us that he believed “there’s a sucker born every minute,” even if he likely never said it.
Evan Zabawski, CLS, is the senior technical advisor for TestOil in Calgary, Alberta, Canada. You can reach him at ezabawski@testoil.com.