Tales From the County

A magician aims to blow his name into the Guinness book.
Inflating many animal toys to balloon a world record.

By Sandy Bauers
INQUIRER STAFF WRITER

"Tales From the County" is a weekly feature highlighting unsung heroes, odd occurrences, hidden treasures, and everyday interesting people of Chester County.

TREDYFFRIN — Jen Cassidy knelt by the clock and counted down the seconds. "Three, two, one, go!"
Her husband, John, took a deep breath and blew. He had just one hour and, if all went well, more than 436 balloon animals to go.

That's what he needed to do to win back - for the second time - the Guinness record for the world's fastest balloon sculptor.

Almost two years ago, John Cassidy, an Upper Providence magician who learned to make balloon animals quickly to satisfy the impatience of children, won the record by twisting 367 balloon animals in one hour.
He beat out Salvatore Sabbatino, a German clown who had held the record. But Sabbatino came back, making 436 "balloon sculptures," as Guinness refers to them.

The new record had not even been verified — evidently a thorough and lengthy process — when John Cassidy, 38, decided to get it back.

"No one wants to hire the second-fastest balloon guy," he said, although that could hardly matter to the parents across the region who have been known to plan their children's birthday parties around his schedule, not theirs.
Silly? Of course. "But everyone wants to feel they're special," he said. Being "the fastest balloon guy isn't much, but it's kind of nice."

So on Friday, he was back at Gator's Restaurant, where he works his magic three days a week, making wallets catch fire, stealing pens and, yes, twisting balloon animals.

He had the table at just the right height, and moisturizer to keep his hands from slipping.

He had two official counters, a judge, a prominently visible clock, and a video camera to record it all.

First, he made a dog. Then a hummingbird. Then an elephant. Rules called for him to make 30 different animals, and no two in a row.

Friends clocked him anxiously. John Cassidy had to average just under nine seconds an animal to win. Could he really do it?

"Absolutely," said his friend Keith Chylinski of Harleysville. John Cassidy "is a talented man and a good man," he said.

As for the balloons, he added, "I've never seen anything like it.""It's just a question of him believing he can," said Steve Wallach, a friend and magician from Plymouth Meeting who spent the entire hour leaning forward on his elbows, nervously gnawing gum and watching intently. Just in case John Cassidy looked up, Wallach wanted him to know he cared. "He's taken this to a different level," Wallach said. "He's turned it into a creative art."

John Cassidy's sister, Christine Cassidy of Jenkintown, was confident, too. "He has more hot air than anyone I know," she teased, "so if anyone can do it, he can."

Parents brought their children or even came without them.

"I came here especially for this," said Howard Flesher, a stockbroker from Paoli whose children are grown. "He has quick hands and a quick wit. I can't believe he's doing this for an hour."

Even Gator's owner, John Thomas, was there to root him on. "Sixteen years he's worked for me," Thomas said. "He's stolen my watch, my pen, my wallet. He's great."

John Cassidy had been averaging 480 balloons an hour at home. "He's been doing dry runs every day for the past two weeks," Jen Cassidy said. They filled the living room. She couldn't get in the front door. Then he popped them while she was at work one day.

She met her husband seven years ago when she was a youth minister. One of the girls wanted to fix her up with a date - "a cool guy" who made balloon animals, she said.

The two talked on the phone and then went to dinner, where he pulled out a flaming wallet and gave her a balloon flower. "It was kind of romantic," Jen Cassidy said.

Magic has been part of John Cassidy's life since childhood. When his sisters laughed at his first failed attempts, he decided to keep at it until he was the best.

One day in high school, John Cassidy's science teacher caught him making a balloon animal in class. Miffed, the teacher said, "Do you think you could make a living doing this?"

As a matter of fact, he did. He began working as a magician at age 13. He said it was simply a matter of finding out what you love in life, and then doing it the best you can.

These days, he entertains at three area restaurants and more birthday parties than one might think possible. He had two just yesterday, a Monday.

In a way, however, "it has nothing to do with balloons at all," John Cassidy said, although he does go through about 15,000 a month. What he likes is "watching the kids' reactions. They light up. It's the best thing in the world to watch a kid walk away happy."

He's had a lot of other jobs, "but this has been the best. All my bosses are 5 years old. They're not swayed by whether you have money or power. They just want to know whether you have balloons."

Fifteen minutes into the hour, Cassidy was sweating and red-faced, but going even faster than when he had started.
The floor in front of Cassidy's table was two feet deep in dragonflies, fish, camels, crocodiles, mice, kangaroos, dinosaurs and more.

Carl Fuglein, youth director of the Marshallton United Methodist Church, was tracking John Cassidy's progress on a calculator. The magician had to make all 30 balloon animals in 3 minutes, 35 seconds to beat Sabbatino's record.
At the end of a cycle, Fuglein checked and smiled: "No problem."

As the clock ticked toward the hour mark, the crowd got louder:

"You're smoking, John!"
"Go, baby, go!"
Christine Cassidy leaned forward.
Wallach aimed his camera.
Jen Cassidy looked at the clock. "Stop!" she commanded.

Then she stood up, grinned and announced, "468!"
The crowd cheered, and John Cassidy hugged his wife.
He'd done it. One balloon animal every 7.69 seconds.

Nerves still ticking, he darted about, shaking hands and giving out balloon animals. Patrons walked back to the bar wearing cobras and swans on their heads.

Oddly enough, he apologized to his friends. "I'm sorry," he said. "I wish it was better." Nearly a dozen balloons had popped.

No matter. Assuming Guinness would verify the count, he was the record-holder. "I just hope," John Cassidy said, wiping his brow, "that I don't have to do this again any time soon."