Cautionary Tales with Tim Harford - The Balloons That Ate Cleveland (A Cautionary Tales Short)

Episode Date: March 25, 2022

When Disneyland released one million helium balloons to set a new world record, Cleveland, Ohio looked on in envy. Could it top the Magic Kingdom? What did citizens hope to gain from getting into the record books... and at what cost?This is a special Cautionary Tales Short - a bitesize warning for history. To hear FOUR more Cautionary Tales Shorts (plus other exclusive and ad-free Pushkin content) join Pushkin+ in Apple Podcasts or at https://www.pushkin.fm/plus/ .For a full list of sources go to timharford.comIf you’d like to keep up with the most recent news from this and other Pushkin podcasts be sure to sign up for our email list at Pushkin.fm. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Pushkin Hello, Tim Haaferd here. I've been sitting on some great ideas for gripping caution retails. Their story is full of exactly the sort of instructive downfalls and disasters that I love. But I've never quite found the right place to tell them during our normal episodes. So, I've created five cautionary tales shorts. You're about to hear one of these bites I story right now. But there are four more cautionary tales shorts available exclusively to Pushkin Plus subscribers. To hear them, subscribe to Pushkin Plus in Apple podcasts or at Pushkin.fm. You'll receive other bonus content and add free listening on all Pushkin shows, including

cautionary tales, revisionist history, the happiness lab, against the rules, and many others. Enjoy! and many others. Enjoy. Disneyland, the happiest place on Earth. December the 5th, 1985. As a celebration of Walt Disney's birthday, and the 30th anniversary of Disneyland's opening, Disney released a world-breaking flock of helium balloons More than one million saw into the blue California sky Gladding hearts everywhere

Hold my beard, Disneyland, says Cleveland A million balloons isn't cool You know what's cool? Two million balloons. Nine months later, excitement is building in public square in downtown Cleveland, Ohio. Above the square, billowing in a stiff breeze is a net filled with a mind-boggling mass of helium-filled multiolored latex balloons. The balloon mass oozes and bulges eager for sweet release into the grey overcast midwestern skies.

I'm Tim Hafford and you're listening to cautionary tales. When Disneyland had released those balloons, Cleveland had been watching from the shores of Chile Lake Erie. Cleveland had endured a lot. A steel industry in decline, a population that had nearly halved, a river so polluted that it regularly caught fire. People would sneer that the once proud city of Cleveland was the mistake on the lake. But by the mid-1980s, Cleveland was fighting back, securing tourist attractions such as the rock and roll hall of fame. And, well, what about a Disneyland-style balloon release? Cleveland's branch of the nonprofit United Way is behind the quest to break the Guinness World Record for a mass release of

balloons. The idea is that local kids will collect sponsorship for each balloon. Everyone knows that the record-breaking balloon release is about much more than raising money for good causes. It's about civic pride. Beneath the hovering gelatinous form of the balloon mass, modern 2,000 young volunteers are inflating, knotting and then releasing each newly buoyant balloon to join the angry swarm, lowering overhead. Many of them wear tape on their fingers in an effort to prevent blisters. For those blisters usually come anyway after the 6 or 700th balloon of the day,

there is no art without suffering. The local TV station is buzzing with excitement. The distinctive Cleveland TV hosts Chuck Shadowsky and John Ronaldo have the big Chuck and Little John show are there on the scenes, interviewing the organizers, the children and the excited crowd. Mary Ellen is one of them. She's an elderly lady in a two-tone, stripy blue dress. She'd brought two bunches of green and pink helium balloons to donate to the effort, but attached one of those bunches to her watch strap. The strap came loose, and the balloons stole her watch away into the sky. TV host Big Chuck from behind the finest tinted aviator shades that 1986 can offer, sympathises

with Mary Ellen. If anybody finds Mary Ellen's watch tied to a bunch of balloons like this, announces Big Chuck live on air. If you return it to the station, we'll have all kinds of rewards for you. All kinds of rewards. And there we see the whole Cleveland Balloon Fest in miniature. A well-meaning gesture, a bit of bad luck, a rather predictable mishap, and extremely vague promises of good things to come. Cleveland, it's your time, says Treb Hining to the TV cameras. It's time to say yes.

Treb is indisputably the best balloon guy on the planet. He's sitting under the growing balloon cloud on Cleveland's public square, looking sharp in a flat white cap, blue blazer, and red tie. Treb has the fastest balloon hands in the world. Under the helium hose, he can inflate and tie a thousand balloons an hour. He's from California. He worked on the Disneyland balloon release. Now he's in charge of Cleveland's attempt to break the record. As he speaks to the camera crews, the loon after the loon rises in the background to join its roiling siblings above. Treb has definitely read the memo about Cleveland's civic pride.

It's time to say it's a happening city where on the move, it's no longer the butt of jokes. In his months working on the project, Trep Hining seems to have picked up a certain energy from his colleagues, an inflated inferiority complex, and Treb and his two million balloons, well they're going to help. Those balloons will bring, as Big Chuck might say, all kinds of rewards. I've been in this city for six months and I absolutely love it. Treb continues, my wife and I have even talked of moving here and our friends in LA think we're nuts.

Treb, maybe stop now. But it is a wonderful place if I had money to invest, this is where I'd be invested. Trebs team have built a formidable temporary structure with a one-piece net. Every newspaper report notes that this net was made by the guys who also made cargo nets for the space shuttle. It's designed to withstand a 60-mile per hour wind, but the September weather in Cleveland isn't as predictable as the weather at Disneyland. The night before the big release, a sudden storm blew in. Out on the lake, the waves swelled alarmingly.

Small boats hurried to get to shore. It was frightening. One boat didn't return. And the coast guard headed out to try to find two missing fishermen. Even in the safety of the city, the storm was gusting at 90 miles an hour as it hit public square where the balloons were being stored. It was like a mini tornado we called one of the team. Things like chairs were physically picked up and spun in circles. Yet, when the morning comes, the net is mostly intact.

There are a few rips, a few balloons might have fled out, but nothing that will jeopardise the big day. But the balloon release team are worried that a second storm is forecast to hit. With the weather closing in, the organisers decide to stop filling the net. There aren't 2 million balloons in there yet, but there are plenty. Definitely more than Disneyland. The balloon release begins with a mass countdown. Are you watching Mickey Mouse? 6, 5, 3, 2, 1… Then with cheers and whistles and screams of triumph the net is withdrawn and the balloons every colour of the rainbow rise into the air. But at a distance the colours merge to form a rusty cloud that royals around the city's

iconic terminal tower. It's not a beautiful sight. It looks like blood released into water. It's unsettling. It was overwhelming. Balloons start like boiling in the air, recall the local reporter. You thought, wow, we're gonna drown in these balloons.

But TV presenter, Little John Renaldi isn't going to let the billiard storm cloud of balloons detract from the excitement. Lazy gentlemen, ladies, don't mistake the millennium. He bellows. Cleaver was there, I'm the government. Giddy's been performing the roles. And the least of the wrong million, five hundred thousand balloons. All this in Cleveland, indeed. Cleveland has had its big build up, the balloons are free. And now what?

A few years ago, three psychologists, Jeff Galak, Julian Givi and Eleanor Williams examined the question of why so many Christmas or birthday gifts. Error bit, disappointing. The researchers argued that while there were many ways in which a gift might fall flat, there was a single, simple error behind them all. When people bought gifts, they thought about the moment at which the gift would be unwrapped.

The surprise, the delight, perhaps a grateful hug. All too often, they didn't think beyond that. This explains why people give silly joke gifts. It explains why they give stuff rather than experiences. It's hard to gift wrap an experience. And I think it also explains why the Cleveland Balloon Fest happened. The idea of releasing so many balloons of breaking the record, the sheer spectacle of the moment, it seems so exciting. It's only after the balloons have been released, and the net, droops, flaccidly to the ground, that you start to ask questions, like, where are those balloons going to go? Are people actually going to start moving back to Cleveland because

of a balloon record? And don't we love Disneyland because we love the characters and the scenery and the rides, rather than because it released a million balloons. The wind and rain hit not long after the balloon release, and the balloons started dropping out of the sky as rapidly as their risen. There were reports of a few minor traffic accidents, and the local airport had to shut down a runway for a while. In a nearby farm, thoroughbred horses injured themselves after being spooked by the balloons. But the most obvious problem was the mess.

Cleveland was now covered in shreds of latex. As for those cruel jibes about the mistake on the lake, they were becoming uncomfortably accurate because gazing out over Lake Erie from Cleveland, the water was covered in balloons. The morning of the big release, the Coast Guard found the boat with the two missing fishermen, but the men themselves, the search became impossible. Rescue teams were out on boats scanning the water, looking for a bright, orange life jacket or a head bobbing in the waves amid a couple of hundred thousand balloons. Eventually, the search was abandoned. The bodies of the missing fisherman washed ashore a few days later. They were probably dead before the balloons were released, but

the widow of one of the men sued United Way for over three million dollars. The case was settled out of court. So too was a case brought by the woman who owned those terrified prize horses. By then, of course, the surviving balloons had long since blown to Canada. Latex takes a while to biodegrade, while helium is a scarce and non-renewable resource. The whole thing seems like environmental negligence at best. But Treb Hining, the balloon mastermind, was infuriated by the idea that we should worry about a little latex. I've been in the balloon industry for years, trying to spread joy and happiness he complained

to the Chicago Tribune. Are you going to eliminate everything on the face of the earth that creates happiness? If you eat enough apple pie, you can die. And what about fireworks? Are you going to ban them because they put a few chemicals in the air? It's very unfair to make this a litter issue. The balloon fest was not a resounding success. Amidst all the headaches, United Way lost money. A representative said, we would not do a balloon launch ever again. And what about that record? A delightful short documentary, Balloon Fest, by filmmaker

Nathan Troustle, ends by noting that the event was not recognised by the Guinness Book of Records. Local newspapers tell the same story, but it was never an official record. But then, someone found a small print in an old edition of the Guinness Book of Records. Page 290 says, the largest ever mass balloon release was one of 1,429,643 sponsored by United Way at Public Square in Cleveland, Ohio on September 27, 1986. So there you go. It was wrong to say the record wasn't recognised as a Guinness World Record. More accurate is to say that while Cleveland did break the record, the whole thing was

so obscure that people thought it hadn't, and people still take their vacations in Disneyland rather than Cleveland. In 2011, 25 years after the original release, Balloonmaster Treb Hining told the Cleveland Plain Dealer that the record still stood. Of course it did. As the Plain Dealer noted, after the trouble the balloon launched caused, no one around here would ever try a stunt like that again.

It's good to dream big, but whether we're picking out a holiday present or planning to release two million balloons, we should imagine not just the moment of climax, but what happens afterwards, and whether it's really likely to play out as we hope. As for Mary Ellen's Missing Watch stolen away by a rogue bunch of balloons, your guess is as good as mine. Nathan Trusdell's documentary is Balloon Fest. It's available to watch for free online.

For a full list of our sources, please see the show notes at timhalford.com. Corsinary Tales is written by me, Tim Halford, with Andrew Wright. It's produced by Ryan Dilly, with support from Courtney Garino and Emily Vaughn. The sound design and original music is the work of Pascal Weiss, Julia Barton, edited the scripts. It features the voice talents of Ben Crow, Melanie Guthridge, Stella Halford, and Rufus Wright. The show also wouldn't have been possible without the work of Meal Abel, Jacob Weisberg, Heather Fein, John Schnarrs, Carly Migliori, Eric Sandler,

Royston Becerve, Maggie Taylor, Nicole Marano, Daniela LeCarn, and Maya Canig. Corsionary Tales is a production of Pushkin Industries. If you like the show, please remember to share, rate, and review. you. you