By Andrea Zimmermann

August 18, 2006

Kit Matthews danced and shook his right index finger in the air as the Gene Trimble Clown Band made a special stop at his family's fudge booth to play one of his favorite songs.

As if on cue, 63-year-old Matthews threw back his head, opened his mouth and the ghost of Louis Armstrong took over.

The gravel-voiced singer chimed in as the band played Armstrong's 1963 hit, "Hello Dolly."

Matthews and his family of Canton, Ohio, have had a booth for Helen & Sons Old-fashioned Fudge for 31 years at the state fair, and he said the clown band has stopped almost every year to play him that song.

If you've been to the Illinois State Fair during any of the last 45 years, you've probably seen them - the clowns with colorful outfits and makeup playing for anyone who asks.

The band takes requests, but leader Gene Trimble is quick to point out, "We don't play that crap," in reference to rock 'n' roll - or anything but "happy" big-band or Dixie music.

"People come to hear the melody that they fell in love with their husband or wife to," he said.

It may seem Trimble's band would appeal to a narrowly tailored crowd of blue-haired ladies, but the clowns seem to have an everlasting quality.

During last Friday's daily parade, many parents leaned over to their young children and pointed to the clown band as it passed by in a large pickup truck.

If it was a pretty mom or her cute daughter, she probably was rewarded with a loud kiss from Trimble through his trumpet from where he sat in the truck, and he usually got a giggle or a shy smile in return.

"There is nothing like seeing people having a good time," he said. "And then when a young gal comes up and wants to give you a kiss on the cheek ... that just revives everything."

The clown-band tradition was alive and well before Trimble became its lively leader, but for the last 45 years, the dancing and musical antics of Trimble and his central Illinois clowns have become iconic fixtures of the Illinois State Fair.

"It's like the fair," state fair manager Amy Bliefnick said of the clown band. "It's history; it's tradition. He is part of that tradition, of the ambience that makes the state fair special."

* * * *

It all began at the 1960 Illinois State Fair.

As they did every year, the Trimble family traveled more than 100 miles from their hometown of Newman to the fair for then-10-year-old son, Dana, to show cattle.

A man running the fair's campground approached the family and asked Trimble if he had his trumpet with him. The man, who also hailed from Newman, knew Trimble was the leader of a band of 14 or 15 people near their hometown.

Soon, Trimble found himself standing in for a missing trumpet player in the clown band, which was then led by Bill Tropper of Chicago. Several years later, Tropper died, and Trimble, who already was leading the band before Tropper's death, decided to carry on the tradition.

In the years following, the band evolved from players largely from Chicago to a collection of central Illinoisans.

Family members and friends have come in and out of the band over time, playing wherever there was a need. Currently, the band combo is Trimble on the trumpet; his son Dana, 55, on the drums; Trimble's sister Madge Warters, 73, on alto saxophone; longtime friend Neil Mathews, 75, on tenor saxophone; New Berlin High School band director Tom Philbrick, 29, on the sousaphone; and Springfield attorney Doug Wilcox on trombone. Sometimes Trimble's granddaughter Carrie Trimble, 34, of Bloomington, will step in to play drums.

"We're just a bunch of farmers havin' a good time," Trimble said.

Mathews, who has played in the clown band for 25 years and more than 50 years in Trimble's big band, said he doesn't mind the clown get-up. In fact, he has but one instruction for his daughter and daughter-in-law, who sew his many colorful suits: the gaudier, the better.

"All of us are hams deep down anyway," Mathews said, "and if we can hide behind some grease paint and a silly suit, it just makes it so much easier."

* * * *

Strolling around the state fair for 45 years, Trimble has watched as the annual celebration has evolved.

After years of declining attendance, the fair crowd has begun to pick back up, he said, adding that the fair is an important part of Illinois history and tradition.

"It is dependent on families bringing their kids and making a tradition out of it," he said. "You've got to find people who want to take their kids out and see the fat cows or the pigs or the fish."

The clown band certainly is part of that tradition, and Trimble has no intentions of stepping aside any time soon.
Trimble, who turned 81 on Aug. 2, said his children and grandchildren have asked him to stop playing and pay more attention to his health, "but you might as well die happiest," he said.

In addition to playing at least two shows a week - some that take him as far as 200 miles from home - with the clown band or the big band, he also tends to his farm in Newman.

Trimble said he's lost count of how many governors the band has played for; what matters is that the band will continue to perform at the state fair as long as the fair managers will let them.

Neil Mathews echoed that passion: "Don't ever not call us because you think we are too tired, because we will make a liar out of you. We just love to play. That is the bottom line."