Free The Lives and Loves of Daisy and Violet Hilton: A True Story of Conjoined Twins by Dean Jensen

attractions inside dimly lit, mildewing tents with rickety stages and tattered curtains. Myer took the position that the manner in which an act was packaged was at least as important as the offering itself, especially since every carnival midway had dozens of features that were all noisily competing with each other.
    Over the winter of 1916–17 he assembled a crew of carpenters, electricians, and scene painters to create a theater of his own design for the United Twins. The resulting playhouse, which was erected for the first time at the San Antonio fair, set a new standard on the midway. Its massive facade had taken the form of a medieval British castle, complete with towering turrets on either end. It appeared to have been constructed of rusticated stones, an illusion created by its trompe l’oeil paint job. There were squint holes everywhere in the walls, and near the castle’s center there was a lancelet archway. The ticket buyers passing through the portal were received by ushers in Beefeater uniforms and escorted into a near cathedral-sized tent with cushioned seats and silk-shaded lamps overhead.
    Rubin Gruberg, a critic of the fantastical architecture that rose in such places as Coney Island, provided this summary of the feeling that came over him upon entering the playhouse: “All is as spick and span as in any theater. In fact, so perfect has the illusion of a permanent and elegant opera house been created that at night the impression is that one is comfortably sitting in the orchestra seat of a metropolitan theater deluxe.” 8
    As always, Professor Jay Henry Edwards held forth outside the Hilton girls’ canvas hall. He stood on his elevated platform, a megaphone to his mouth, and, over and over, threw out his spiel like a lariat, roping strollers from the promenade. “Ladies and misters, girls and boys,” he intoned solemnly. “Miss out on this one-time opportunity to see the world famous Royal English United Twins and, mark my word, you’ll regret it until the day you begin your eternal sleep.”
    It was at the War of the Flowers Fiesta of 1917 that Jim Moore entered Daisy and Violet’s tent for the first time. He was twelve years old, long-bodied, and skinny. For Moore, if not for Daisy and Violet, it was love at first sight. It was the beginning of an abiding relationship between the three that, many years later, would take a surprising turn.
    “The twins were in beautiful, ruffled white dresses the first time I saw them,” Moore recalled. “The girls seemed to be glowing, as if there were auras around them. They were bathed by light in a tent that was otherwise dark. I started shivering. The scene was a little like that in the movie
Song of Bernadette
where Bernadette comes upon a grotto in the French countryside and gets a vision of the Virgin Mary. Daisy and Violet didn’t seem to be earthly creatures. Rather they appeared to have been sent here from someplace beyond. I knew my life was not going to be the same again.” 9
    Moore had a natural empathy with the twins. Like them, he felt out of place in almost all social situations. He was a foot taller thanmost boys his age and, with his long brown hair slicked back and parted in the center, he seemed to be trying hard to affect the appearance of a matinee idol. He was indifferent to river fishing, sandlot baseball, mumblety-peg, and the other activities with which other boys were preoccupied. Most summer days he hung out at a dance studio in downtown San Antonio. His father thought dancing was for sissies, and Jim never had money for private instruction. He absorbed what he could by watching. At home and alone in his room, he practiced with broom partners.
    Moore was to be found in the twins’ theater every day it was set up on the San Antonio plaza, not leaving until around midnight when the midway closed. Edith usually emceed the twins’ performances. Moore endeared himself to her by running errands and holding four-month-old Therese Mary