The Mystery of the Iron Samson

The Mystery of the Iron Samson The Life and Training of Strongman Alexander Zass

by A. Drapkin & Yuri Shapshnikoff Translated by Professor “Stone” Paul Edited and Foreword by Logan Christopher

DISCLAIMER The exercises and advice contained within this book is for educational and entertainment purposes only. The exercises described may be too strenuous or dangerous for some people, and the reader should consult with a physician before engaging in any of them. The author and publisher of this book are not responsible in any manner whatsoever for any injury, which may occur through the use or misuse of the information presented here.

The Mystery of the Iron Samson originally published in Russian in 1968 Modern English Edition Copyright © 2012 by Legendary Strength All Rights Reserved. No part of this course may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. Manufactured in the United States of America

The Mystery of the Iron Samson

Table of Contents FOREWORD.....................................................................................................................2 PREFACE..........................................................................................................................4 YOU ARE STRONGER THAN YOU THINK.................................................................6 CHILDHOOD..................................................................................................................13 THE WORLD OF STRENGTH......................................................................................20 FAR AWAY IN THE STEPPE........................................................................................34 FIRST VICTORY............................................................................................................36 TO THE DEPOT OR TO THE CIRCUS?.......................................................................39 A PROFITABLE BUSINESS..........................................................................................45 BLACK MASK................................................................................................................53 THE REAL WORK.........................................................................................................61 BLUE SKY BEHIND THE BARS..................................................................................67 THE STRONGEST MAN IN THE WORLD..................................................................74 THE MYSTERY OF THE IRON SAMSON...................................................................81 AFTERWORD.................................................................................................................86 ISOMETRIC EXERCISES USED BY SAMSON DURING TRAINING.....................91 DYNAMIC EXERCISES USED BY SAMSON DURING TRAINING......................100

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FOREWORD by Logan Christopher Several years back I was bitten by the strongman bug. I read a book called The Spiritual Journey of Joseph L. Greenstein, also known as The Mighty Atom, and I was hooked. I thought to myself I want to do that to. Thus began my journey in strongmanism and learning from the greatest alive today as well as those in the past. Unfortunately no book really captured my attention in quite the same way, until now. I would put The Mystery of the Iron Samson right up there with Ed Spielman's book on the Mighty Atom. This book is mostly biographical in nature, yet found within the stories you'll find lots of training information on what it takes to become super strong. If you're a strongman yourself, or ever plan to become one, you'll find many ideas for feats to perform that I've never seen anyone do today. Then at the end of this book you'll discover more exercise and training info in depth. Zass was well known for being one of the first to widely use isometrics in his training. Here you'll discover exactly what he did and more. There are many oldtime strongmen. Alexander Zass has always been one that has grabbed my attention, more then others. Reading stories about his feats and exploits you get the feeling that the iron bending he did far out-surpassed many of his contemporaries. Add to the fact that he literally used to skills to break free from prison and you can understand why he became the stuff of legends. Since reading about him I've sought more and more information, but to little avail. Then luck struck one day. I was coaching Professor “Stone” Paul in building up his online business. He had a couple successful sites teaching people Swedish and Russian as well as being involved in strength training himself. I thought to myself, Zass was Russian, perhaps he can dig up something I had never found before. He immediately found a copy of The Mystery of the Iron Samson which had never been translated into English. (This book is not to be confused with The Amazing Samson, an autobiography by Zass himself.) I knew I was interested in this book but would other people be? I asked and the overwhelming response was yes so we got started. Actually translating the book proved to be difficult. I'll let Paul tell you about it in his own words: “I've finished the initial translation and now I am going back and making everything readable and sensible for an English reader. I must say, that I am now understanding, why this book was never translated before. www.IronSamson.com

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“Although, the story, feats of strength, training methods, etc. are really profound and exciting (all eye-witness accounts), the language these guys used to tell it all is pretty wretched. These authors are not only using old soviet Russian, but it's obvious that they were also poorly educated hillbillies or farmers who never really learned how to read or write very well. Nothing is written properly and almost every sentence has grammar, syntax, and spelling issues, so it took me a long time just to get the initial translation done. It's like they just wrote the way illiterate mountain men would speak to each other. Run on sentences, half sentences, random thoughts and clauses mixed in where they don't belong. “All the verb tenses are mixed and the chronology is out of order often times, so I am having to rewrite a lot make it possible for the reader to follow along. “Don't get me wrong, I still think the information in the book is priceless. That's why I really want to do a good job translating it so it is a really nice and comfortable read in English. I think people are gonna absolutely love the finished product.” And later on this update arrived in my email: “The translation of this book is really turning into a work of art in and of itself. I've had to rewrite so many things to make them make sense in an English context. I am making it as easy to read as possible, while at the same time preserving some of the quirkiness which gives it the "old russian days" flavor of the era. I really want the reader to be sucked back in time when they're reading.” When you're finished reading this book I'm sure you'll agree that Paul has done a phenomenal job. Perhaps if you're interested this will be the first in many Russian works on strength and athleticism that can be translated into English for the first time. Be sure to let us know if you'd like to see more. As you read through this book you'll be transported to Russia, to several circuses, and even to prisoner of war camps. I'm sure you'll find Zass' life as exciting as I did. If this book helps one more person to become as motivated in becoming a strongman, as Zass was himself by the exploits of Sandow, then we have done our job in bringing it to you.

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PREFACE Dear editors! Ten years ago I read the book "The Mystery of Iron Samson" and it changed my entire life. Let me tell you the story piece by piece. Ever since childhood, I had been a strong lad. I lived with my grandfather who was a peasant in Udmurtia (Russia). I used to have competitions of strength with the other boys my age and would often beat them. Understandably, I wanted more. After all, who would not want to become a strong man, nay...a very strong man, nay...the strongest man in the world? I used to voraciously read about bogatyrs (Russian Strongmen - heroes of Russian folklore who possessed fantastic strength and health). I had my own favorite athletes of course. It was as if I could actually see how three hundred years ago, Farmer Peter Gorodets from Rublev (a village near Moscow) entertained both the people and the Tsar by displaying his unusual strength for them. He would take the two ends of a belt in his teeth and wind it around the middle part of a log. Then he would lift this burden from the ground and walk around with it freely and effortlessly... as though it were nothing special. In my dreams, I would often swim aboard Senyavin's ship with a strong midshipman named Lukin. With bated breath, I read about how Lukin would demonstrate his strength by bending a horseshoe, holding a pood kernel (a 16.38 kilogram canon ball) in his outstretched hands for a few minutes, or pressing a nail into the ship's trim with one finger. When his Russian ship was docked in England, someone suggested that Lukin compete in a fist fight. The four strongest men in town were summoned as opponents and Lukin beat them all one by one. What I especially liked about Lukin was that he was not only brave, but also meek and patient. Lukin died a hero in a battle upon a Turkish ship. Such people were my heroes. They were very strong, yet never boastful. They were brave and simple men. The story of Count Alexei Orlov-Chesmensky has convinced me that strength in and of itself does not make you a better person. Orlov was one of the strongest men during the reign of Catherine II. Countless legends used to circulate about his strength. The count’s favorite pastime was hunting a bear alone with only one “rogatina” (a fork shaped wooden stick used to hunt bears). Orlov would sometimes hold athletic contests in his courtyard. Here, the count would fight the most powerful farmers from his estates. In order to delight his guests, he would decapitate a bull with a single blow from his saber. Every athlete who lived in Moscow or St. Petersburg would come to Orlov in order to challenge Alexei's strength. The Count would always accept the challenge. He would often present opponents who had beat him www.IronSamson.com

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with an award. However, this was not always the case. If a peasant were to defeat the count, they would finish their life on a chain in the doghouse. Nowadays we would say that the stately athlete was a sore loser. While reading these stories, I used to tell myself that even if I were to become a very strong man I would never be arrogant. My road to strength began with sport. I was fond of weightlifting, cycling and skiing. I was even a master class athlete in a couple of sports. Before long I had become a seasoned athlete and somehow, just for fun, decided to repeat the favorite old russian stunt of breaking a horseshoe. I obtained a horseshoe and pulled on it with all my might. However, it refused to break. “What's going on here?” I thought to myself. I had the strength but the horseshoe would not submit. I started rummaging through books to find an explanation for this strange phenomenon. It seemed to me that there was a key, a clue to this surprising strength of yesterday's heroes. I found the answer in the book "The Mystery of the Iron Samson." Upon implementation of Samson's system, I soon learned how to twist nails into knots (or "eights"), bend scraps of iron, break chains and do many things that had been considered entertaining "strongman fun" in Russia. I performed these tricks at amateur events and not too long after became a professional circus performer. Even today, I am still a professional circus performer. I wrote this letter because I believe that "The Mystery of the Iron Samson" is not just a book about a specific strong man, but it is a narration about the real Russian strongman tradition. This book will not only assist you in becoming physically fit, but also help you to feel like an heir of the beautiful and ancient strength that has been valued in Russia since her birth as a nation. Ivan Shutov - Circus Performer. From The Editor. While working on the second, revised edition of the book "The Mystery of the Iron Samson," we decided to publish this letter as a preface.

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YOU ARE STRONGER THAN YOU THINK The circus was quiet and still. Nothing could be heard except for the haunting sting of the orchestra. At the center of the arena, where the spotlights crossed, a short stocky man appeared. The miracles were about to begin. The man proceeded to lift a heavy steel beam with his bare teeth and bent a strip of iron in his mouth. He carried a horse on his shoulders, picked up the wheel of a heavily-loaded car, and caught a 90kilogram cannonball (fired from a cannon) with his bare hands. While having one foot in a loop and being hoisted up under the bigtop, he held a platform with a piano and a playing musician in his teeth. He tore apart heavy chains and broke horseshoes into pieces. These amazing feats of strength, were demonstrated many years ago by a circus performer who went by the name "The Iron Samson”. Such stunts have proven to be very interesting even today, not just in the world of circus, but even SCIENCE has started to raise questions about the limits of human strength. There has been a whimsical interweaving of sensationalism regarding “superhuman capabilities," and the reliability of research, imagination and reality surrounding it. To illustrate this point, I've included an excerpt from the article “You Are Stronger Than You Think” written by R. Gannon and published in the American magazine “Popular Science”. Following the article, you will find that I've included the comments of renowned soviet scientist Professor V. Kovanov and soviet astronaut B. Yegorov). "In May 1964, sixteen-year-old George Lawrence was riding his bicycle along the edge of a gorge near Niagara Falls. The young man suddenly lost control of his bicycle and flew over the edge of the gorge. Falling from a height of a ten stories, he landed on a stone ledge. The result was only a slight head injury and a crushed ribcage. In 1960, seven-year-old Roger Woodward from Niagara Falls was in a boat on the Niagara River. The boat capsized and the boy was carried away by the current toward Horseshoe Waterfall, where he fell down from a height of almost fifty meters. The boy walked away with only a few bruises and abrasions. One day there was a man who came to the New York Hospital complaining about his swollen ankles. His ankles were healthy, however the doctors ended up removing 258 different items including a screwdriver, 26 keys, and three lace beads from the stomach of a patient.

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An unfortunate cyclist, a sailor, and a swallower of strange kinds of items are living proof that human bodies are much more resilient than we think. So how resilient are we? No one knows for sure, but with our space age technology, we aim to find out. What kind of physical strain is an astronaut able to withstand before losing the ability to think and act rationally. How long can he survive without air, food or water? How will high temperature, prolonged weightlessness and the crushing pressure of orbital descent affect him? Hoping to get some of these questions answered, Captain Biding from the Holloman Air Force Base in New Mexico, tied himself to a sled with a rocket motor, which was then catapulted down an inclined 40 meter long plane. Swiftly gliding along, the captain suddenly stopped the sled. For a moment, the acceleration of gravity had increased some 82.6 times it's normal strength, thus increasing the body weight of the captain to approximately six tonnes. Although such an incredible pressure lasted only 1/400 of a second, Captain Biding temporarily lost his sight. His pulse stopped, and the captain was in a dead faint. However, a week later he returned to his duties, complaining only about a slight pain in his back. Researchers from the Faculty of Health at Harvard University concluded that at high atmospheric humidity the maximum temperature that allows a person to work effectively is 30-35 degrees (Centigrade). However, researchers from the University of Pittsburgh have found that resilient individuals may endure a temperature of 70 degrees for half an hour in a room of low humidity. At an air force base in Ohio experiments took place in which people were placed in hot "ovens." The experiments demonstrated that a pilot in heavy clothing could withstand 3.5 minutes in a room over 200 degrees (Centigrade).. Doctors believed for a long time that the human body temperature can not exceed 41-42 degrees (Centigrade) without inducing death. There was however a student by the name of Gofiya Sapana who contracted brucellosis. When she was brought to Bushvick's hospital in Brooklyn, the temperature of her body had exceeded that of 43 degrees. Doctors had also believed that a body temperature below 26 degrees was lethal to humans. A young resident of Chicago, Dorothy Stevens, fell in a swoon outdoors during the winter, and lay all night in the snow at minus 24 degrees. In the morning they found her quite stiff. Her eyeballs were crystallized and her heart had almost stopped beating. The doctors measured the temperature of her body. Her temperature was a mere 18 degrees! To the surprise of the doctors, the girl was revived and recovered fully shortly thereafter. We all know that life is impossible without air. However, pearl divers can sometimes remain for five or six minutes under water, while an ordinary person cannot www.IronSamson.com

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handle more than four minutes. The record in this area belongs to a Californian named Robert Foster. He inhaled pure oxygen for half an hour and afterwards was able to stay under water for 13 minutes and 42.5 seconds. At an altitude of 2500-3000 meters, almost anyone would start to feel dizzy due to the thin air. After an even higher elevation, people are not able to focus and at the slightest exertion may lose consciousness. However, there are Indians living in Peru at an altitude of 4500 meters. Can man actually become accustomed to such harsh living conditions? Dr. Bruno Belk gives answers in the affirmative. In 1958 he led an expedition to Mount Evans (4,300 meters). The researchers stayed there for six weeks. They soon got used to the rarefied air and were able to work with no less energy than they could in normal conditions. How much time can one go without food? One expert says that a person can live without food for more than a month. Los Angeles researchers working on clarifying the causes of obesity, have shown this to be true. Elaine Johnson weighed 143 kilograms. The doctors put her on a strict water diet. For seventeen weeks all of her meals consisted of three liters of water per day. In addition to that, twice a week she had a vitamin injection. The weight of the patient decreased to 81 kilograms, yet she felt very healthy. Of all the organic needs of man, we know about sleep least of all. Most people do not lose their working ability by staying awake for days, but after a long vigil they begin to hallucinate, faint, and eventually are forced into full prostration. The seventeen-yearold Randy Gardner of San Diego decided to break the previously set record in Honolulu...ten days without sleep. He stayed awake for 264 hours. To keep himself awake, he would endlessly be taking cold and hot showers. In the end, his thoughts became confused and he got memory lapses. He also began to stutter, stammer and lose balance. On the eleventh day, Randy fell asleep, and employees of the Naval Hospital in San Diego attached 19 wires to his body in order to record the reactions of his body. He slept 14 hours 43 minutes. "I think I slept for 70 days," said the new champion. It is unknown how long people can stay awake - as we do not know the limits of human endurance. "Every time science comes to the conclusion that an absolute maximum has been set, someone manages to set a new record" said Dr. Paul Nesbit, an employee at Air University, Maxwell Field (Alabama). Another great example is the twelve-year-old boy, Michael Morley from Cleveland who was reaching for his parachute toy that got stuck in high voltage wires (22,000 volts). The boy touched the wire, was fried by the electricity and collapsed to the ground. The doctors had to amputate his arm, but he was still alive.

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Or take the example of Pune Lima, an English merchant ship steward. In 1942, his ship sank in the Atlantic Ocean. The sailor survived and spent four and a half months on an emergency boat in the open ocean. When he was picked up by the sailors, he went ashore without any assistance. Last but not least, Michael D. Leonard, a parachute jumper from Eglin Air Force Base in Florida once jumped from a helicopter. To his dismay, neither the main parachute nor reserve would open. From a height of three hundred meters, he crashed into the ground. Having thrown a somersault, the paratrooper stood up and walked away, rubbing his scratched knee. " Academician of the Academy of Medical Sciences in USSR, Professor V. KOVANOV: Of course, we are more resilient than we think, said Professor Kovanov. However, the facts cited by Robert Gannon should be treated with some caution. This is nothing but a mixture of sensation and business information. Perhaps there is more sensationalism here. In my opinion, it is impossible to talk about some superb-endurance and show a patient with a set of wrenches, screwdrivers and shoelaces in his stomach as an example. That is not stamina. That is pathology. It seems that some other facts presented by Gannon are based on the stories of people whose minds are not quite normal. These stories report absolutely fantastic details which require a critical attitude in order to decipher their true nature. Gannon writes about some terrible falls, without dire consequences. These falls are possible. Everything is decided by who is falling and where. Children, for example, sometimes are "not afraid" of falling from a five-story building. Not so long ago in Moscow, on Vladimirov Drive, a two-year-old boy fell from the fifth floor. No damage had been found. The seven-year-old, Roger Woodward could have landed just as successfully. The fact of the matter is that children's bones are not yet fully developed. They are still adherent to the cartilage mass and therefore can be compressed and amortized by the falls, yet not break. Gannon writes about Captain Biding, who suffered massive gravitational overload. We know the kind of congestion jet pilots and astronauts experience. In this case, everything is decided by pre-training and general health. When it comes to "super endurance" we must not forget about the preliminary training and the body's ability to adapt to environmental conditions. Pearl divers are able to stay for five or six minutes under water without air. “Being able to” in this situation is nothing more than the result of adaptation and training. Man is able to

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endure great atmospheric humidity as well as high temperatures in hot ovens. However, Gannon notices himself that we are dealing with “extraordinary stamina". Unfortunately, the ability of the human body to adapt to unusual conditions in the U.S. are often used as sensation and have nothing to do with science. It is well known that a person can go without food for a month. However, in this case he still needs water. Many diseases are treated with hunger nowadays. The starvation diet, however, is held at absolute rest, under strict doctor supervision. Facts require rigorous scientific scrutiny, and all the hype here is harmful. Soviet cosmonaut Boris Egorov: In the article "You Are Stronger Than You Think", there are facts and there is an idea that these facts (which according to the intention of the author) should confirm the premise of the title” said Boris. The facts however, are of little interest. “The boy was still alive after getting zapped by 22,000 volts. How did this actually happen? I used to rock climb. Once during a thunderstorm in the mountains, I watch as a bolt of lightning struck a man nearby directly in the forehead. It was not thousands, but rather millions of volts. The man however remained alive. All he suffered was some patches of burnt skin. How come? ...because the discharge went in through his clothing and skin without affecting the internal organs. If a loop of electrical current affected the vital organs such as heart, death would have occurred even at a much lower voltage. It makes no sense to consider Gannon’s facts about falls, jumps and successful landings realistic at all. Such cases are frequent, but these are just lucky incidents, nothing more. When it comes to holding one's breath under water, the article compares the disparate things. It is well known that pretreatment of the lungs with oxygen dramatically changes the entire scope of an organism's life. That’s why one cannot compare the result of a diver and a person who had breathed oxygen. It is inappropriate. "Ovens" and high mountain expeditions, as described by Gannon, are not the limit of human capabilities. A prolonged wakefulness can not be considered normal. I think that the man who had not slept for such a long time was in a semiconscious state. Thus, the facts are considered for the most part trivial, their selection is random, and the conclusions are speculative. The situation is different when it comes to the idea that the author is trying to develop using such poorly-chosen facts. The possibility of expanding the limits of physiological activity and the need for careful consideration of these features is really the most interesting and important concept here. www.IronSamson.com

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Touching upon this subject, I would have to start by analyzing athletic performances. Where is the limit of strength, speed, or height of jumping? There are precise observations here and scientifically sounding conclusions can be made. However, athletic exercise does not give more guarantees of extending the range of physiological capacities in man. Our body is a self-adjusting system. Quite often the development of certain functions in an athlete's body happens by means of other bodily functions. We know that athletes who are in good shape and have great muscles are much more likely to catch a cold than ordinary mortals. So the sport itself is not the only way to improve the body's physiology. The matter is much more complicated. During millions of years of evolution, humans have become much more perfect than their ancestors. Life expectancy, height and physical strength have all increased. The body has developed a set of defense reactions that were not needed for people thousands of years ago. Social factors play an important role here as well. Look at the generation that emerged after the war. These people were stronger than their peers in wartime. Much of the organism's life depends on its emotional attitude. During war, soldiers had to make such long marches with such heavy loads, that this in and of itself could be considered a record. Space exploration has, of course, put the human body in unusual conditions. However, it is unlikely to be overestimated. I am convinced that technology will bring the pressure during takeoff to a minimum which could easily be tolerated by anyone. It is more complicated with weightlessness. In weightlessness, there is an increased allocation of calcium from the body. However, I think that we will eventually learn how to adapt the human body to weightlessness as well. People will develop an ability to live in conditions of weightlessness that they have never had before. I think that nowadays people know a lot about their physical capabilities, and to ensure these capabilities, they develop their skills. Once again, after the words of Boris Yegorov, we will repeat that one needs to develop his human potential. For the subject that we chose, this thesis is of particular interest. The sports side of sensational circus stunts has not been given its deserved attention. The "Iron Samson” is no exception. At the beginning of this century (1900's), weightlifting at the circus and weightlifting as a sport were virtually one in the same. In those days weightlifting competitions like the present ones did not exist. The circus was the only place where one could watch strongmen perform. Brilliant success of the Russian wrestlers and weightlifters in circus arenas had entered the golden fund of sports history. In this book,

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we decided to gather crumbs of information about one of the strongest men in the 20th century, to lift the veil of secrecy that has shrouded the workouts of the Iron Samson. It was interesting to see how the toughness was not only in the strength but also in the will of this remarkable man...how the hardest “school of life” elaborated his character. Many of Samson’s stunts demanded extraordinary courage! This book is not just a biography, although it is based on the documents and recollections of those who knew Alexander Ivanovitch Zass, the man who was also known in the circus by the name of the “Iron Samson”.

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CHILDHOOD One gray autumn morning on a nameless farm near Vilnius (now Lithuania) in the house of Ivan Petrovitch Zass, a son was born. The newborn was named Alexander. In his heart, the father had hoped that a glorious future awaited his newborn baby boy, just like the boy's great namesakes. A proud name was almost everything that a family could give to a new family member. Shura (short for Alexander) was the parents' fifth child. With a mixture of pride and bitterness, the mother looked at the grimace upon her crying baby's mouth. What was she to feed this new mouth? They were a poor family, whose only wealth lay in its quantity of members. Even if they were to work themselves to death, there would be very little increase in wealth. The soil was depleted, the house had sunken half-way into the swamp, and it seemed as though the rain would never cease. The crops needed to start growing soon, or else it was sure to be another hungry year. The family may not have survived the winter, if it wasn't for a relative who advised them to cross the Volga River and press on toward the estate of countess Yusupova. He couldn't promise a lot of money, but he could promise a lot of work and that the family would never go hungry. Since they did not have many belongings, the process of packing was short. They sold everything they could to their neighbors for pennies on the dollar. As their train departed they saw for the first time how enormous the Russian landscape actually was. The fields, forests and woodlands seemed nearly endless as they passed through towns and cities both great and small. Slowly but steadily the train chugged on, and it seemed as though the locomotive had dragged them throughout all of Russia. In reality they had not traveled any further east than Moscow. The family finally arrived at Saransk, a town situated just south of Moscow. After getting off the train, they saddled their horses and rode across the steppes under the hot, relentless, autumn sun. Being out in the open sun of the steppes was a bit off-putting after having lived their entire lives in the shadows of the forests and marshes. At last, they had arrived at the manor’s house. The manager was strict and the estate was vast. Comprised of a score of villages, it measured more than 30 verst (1 verst = 3,500 feet ) from end to end. Every worker was to keep an eye open in order to make sure nothing was missing from the master's property. The older children were also put to work in the field or as shepherd's assistants. They would start their work the following day. Shortly thereafter, Shura (Alexander) would begin his journey toward an independent life. He and his older brothers were working in the field from dawn to dusk

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and there was little time left over to see Father. His mother and younger sister were usually in the kitchen preparing food for the mowers or cleaning the house, etc. As a baby, Shura was often left alone in the house with a small thick-legged and potbellied puppy. The two quickly became friends and invented their own little games. Growing up together, the boy and his dog learned how to communicate with one another through simple glances and gesticulations. The dog would always obey the boy and eagerly do all sorts of hilarious tricks. Not only could the dog walk on his hind legs, but he could also do handstands and somersaults. Sometimes he would even "sing" with his master in a melancholy baritone voice. On the way home, the laborers would watch these entertaining stunts and reward the young performers with laughter. The boy would laugh together with them. Even the dog, who bore the luxurious nickname Khan, seemed to laugh along with his kind black eyes. When it came time for Shura to work, he didn’t want to leave his favorite dog Khan home alone. Luckily, the work he was doing at the time suited this inclination. The manager assigned the boy to be a messenger. He was running back and forth all day delivering messages...from the blacksmith to the farmyard, then over to the neighboring village, etc. Eventually Shura learned to ride a horse and soon there were three workers on the messenger team...Shura, his dog Khan and an old gelding horse called Forsun. Forsun was assigned to Shura every time a long distance order needed to be delivered. All the other workers on the estate would often make friendly jokes about Shura's trio. The sight of a skinny-legged gelding horse walking raggedly with a stocky suntanned kid on his back and a red-haired shaggy dog by his side was indeed laughable. It was then that the future star performer heard the word “circus” for the very first time. It was stableman Uncle Grisha who had said it. Grisha was quite a remarkable person and had once served in the cavalry. He was even said to have fought against the Turks. After the war, Grisha was awarded a medal for bravery called “The Cross of St. George” as well as an empty sleeve (he lost his arm in battle). Along with the medal, he also brought back an unbridled love for horses. All his life, little Shura remembered Uncle Grisha holding long conversations with his fosterlings and how these big and kind-hearted animals seemed to understand him. The stableman had yet another passion. He loved to ramble on about the good old days...the trips and other countries, the war, and about his native village (which Grisha had left many years prior) that lay to the north. “We used to bake bread made from barley...this high!” he said, holding his hand high above the ground. “I swear to God, I kid you not! ...and the barley bread was tasty...tastier than bread made of wheat. Actually, we did not even have wheat in the north. The bread was delicious…only when it was fresh though...it was useless stale” Grisha indignantly shook his head, bristling his gray, stained mustache. www.IronSamson.com

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During one of these conversations, the boy (Shura) heard an amazing tale about a large house with a round roof. Horses decorated with expensive harnesses, funny clowns and powerful athletes would all gather in this house to perform. When Shura repeated the story of the old soldier (Grisha) at home, his father smiled and said: "Well, well, let's go into town next autumn and see the circus." It took autumn forever to come that year, and when the longed-awaited day finally did arrive, Father was going into town to do some business at the fair (where the circus was held). The crowd at the market was a noisy and motley bunch. The field work was complete and now it was time for trading and recreation. Following particularly heavy harvest seasons everyone was looking for fun. The circus at the edge of the trading square came right in the nick of time. While Father was trading a horse with the local profiteers, Shura was watching the magical life of the bigtop in silent delight. The performance was getting ready to start. Opposite the main entrance, the acrobats were rehearsing with slings right next to a large pile of horse dung. In one corner there was a clown carefully rubbing colorful makeup into his face while in the other corner an athletic man was throwing a chair over his head with his teeth. Suddenly, a red-headed fellow all dressed in red jumped onto a platform and started shouting in a loud voice... “Hey, son! Ring the first bell! Raise the curtain Here! Here! All are welcome! Wait, Guest! Stop! Our miracle is marveled. Mistress of vanity Baba-mash, Skillful women, old women, Soldiers of the servicemen And you...the grumbling grandfather, Humpbacked and bald, Looking lousy with a crooked stomach, Push your way from the back, Go to the ticket-office Buy a ticket for a dime And enter the bigtop!” www.IronSamson.com

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Seeing Father in the crowd, Shura pushed his way towards him and together they began to make their way toward the ticket-office. The circus announcer kept on ranting... “My son! Ring the third bell Come on, come on! Get 'em while you can! Grab your tickets! You will see the marvels, No need to go to America. A man without bones The accordionist Thaddeus, A juggler with torches, A samovar filled with hot coals on his forehead Fire will be swallowed Swords will be eaten, A chicken will consume a horse, A snake will crawl out of his eyes, Hey there good people, you are not fools! Bring us your dimes! Let us start the show, hit the music!” That's how the magic began. The horses were dancing. People were hovering in the air. A juggler was balancing a lit lamp on his nose. All this was accompanied by music, shouting and laughter. Then, suddenly there was silence. “In the ring, now stands the strongest man in the world...Vanya Pood” the circus announcer shouted smartly. Everyone clapped their hands. A thick and apparently very strong man came out and bowed like a bear. He raised a huge water-filled barrel over his head a couple of times and then he bent a thick iron bar in half. He dared everyone in the audience to repeat the trick and promised to give 10 rubles to anyone who could bend the iron rod. There were a lot of men who wanted to compete, but none of them were lucky enough to win. Afterwards, Vanya Pood broke a horseshoe. He then threw a chair over his head using only his teeth. At the end of his performance, he heaved a giant ship anchor onto his shoulders and carried it to the door while the audience applauded him. The End. People started to slowly leave the bigtop. Meanwhile, the circus announcer was luring the crowd into witnessing the upcoming marvels.

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“Yes, it's a hard dollar (ruble)” said Shura’s father, nodding in the direction of the circus. Each ruble goes to them. The boy listened, but did not understand. “Who's making a hard dollar? These gilded acrobats, flitting easily under the dome? The beautiful rider who had just rode with a happy smile on decorated horse? Does Vanya Pud have a difficult life? There's no way that can be true! He broke the horseshoes so easily. Obviously, Father is wrong. The farm laborers who work on the estate are the ones who really have a difficult life” thought the young Shura to himself. These were the kind of thoughts Shura was having while he and his father were vibrating in the cart on the bumpy road home. That's when Shura decided that he definitely wanted to become one of those lucky circus performers. He was true to his decision. When the boy got home, he tried repeating the trick of the circus athlete by clutching the edge his mother's heavy kitchen stool with his teeth. Not only did the stool not want fly high into the air, but it didn't even want to budge the tiniest bit away from the floor. All he accomplished was getting the unpleasant taste of an old salty kitchen board left in his mouth. Shura did not want to come to terms with his failure and instead started trying to perform the trick with the barrels. He found a large wooden tub in the basement, tried to grab it with his thin little arms and budge it. Pull as he may, the tub stood firmly rooted in one spot. The boy however was quite stubborn. Again and again, he tried to move the dreaded wooden edifice. Day after day there was a tug-o-war between the child and this big heavy tub in the basement. Even though the tub still sat motionless in the basement, Shura began noticing some very strange things happening during his workday. The heavy saddle that he could barely carry through the stables previously (in order to saddle Forsun) suddenly felt easier to carry. It was as if the sacks of grain got lighter too. “What if I try to break a steel chain? I heard that they do it in circus...” Shura got a hold of a piece of chain from a nearby well and tried to tear it up. Needless to say, he was unsuccessful. He tried again and once again he failed. As mentioned earlier, the boy was obstinate. Again and again he tried to dismember the steel links with no luck... Many years later, the famous circus athlete, Alexander Zass (now little Shura) would come to appreciate these childhood experiences and create an entirely new system of training. The basic principles of this system would come to be recognized throughout the world as “isometric exercises”. Their characteristic feature is to create tension of the muscles without contraction. In other words, building strength without any movement in the joints.

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Think about these words my dear readers..."without any movement in the joints”. Since ancient times, people have been associating sport with movement. Rapid jerks and presses of weightlifters seemed to be the most complete embodiment of physical strength in a man. It seemed natural that one's training would be reminiscent of the actual conditions of competition. That’s why the steel equipment would go up and down, up and down, time after time during strength training. Strength enthusiasts hoping to develop their muscles faster would lift huge weights over and over again. Strength and movement seemed to be inseparable. Then suddenly, there was strength without motion. Try picking up an ordinary weight, holding it from the bottom with your hand underneath the weight. Lift the weight to your shoulder. You will notice how the muscles are shortening and getting thicker when you are bending your elbow. This mode of training is known as dynamic exercise in sports literature. If you hold the same weight in your hand with your elbow bent, but without raising (or lowering) the weight to the shoulder, the tense muscles will not contract. This is the static or isometric mode. Alexander Zass was one of the first to discover that isometric exercises had a significant effect on strength training. At the time, muscle contraction under pressure was considered to be the most traditional way to develop the muscles. The “Iron Samson” was convinced that rolling poods (old russian weights equal to 16.38 kilograms, sometimes in the form of a kettle bell) of iron from one place to another was not enough. Instead, if a person would strain the tendons and muscles while trying to bend an iron bar (even though he might not be able to bend it), such apparently unsuccessful attempts would be very useful in the development of strength. Looking ahead of us we should note that time has fully proved Alexander Zass's theory of isometric exercise. In 1961 the sensational effect of motionless exercises on athletes started to appear in the foreign press. For example, one American weightlifter had been training for nearly 5 years without any visible results. At the age of 35 years (not the most prosperous age for an athlete), he began practicing the isometric system, and soon added 30 kilograms to his results in power lifting. Such examples are not unique. Static weight training became one of the most essential elements of training...not only for weightlifters and athletes, but for rowers and swimmers as well. The advantages of this system, which awarded it worldwide recognition, were obvious. Normally, when trying to develop athletic power, athletes will lift tonnes of iron and spend countless hours in the gym. Static exercises would save them time and energy since a single tensing of the muscle (when using the isometric system) would last no longer than 10 seconds. When we take into consideration the fact www.IronSamson.com

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that the equipment in this case is extremely simple (sometimes weights are not even needed) then the advantages of isometrics become starkly apparent. For the moment however, we are getting ahead of ourselves. At this point in the story, little Shura was still a boy unsuccessfully trying to budge the wooden tub in his basement. One day while he was trying to move this giant tub, he was approached by a local accountant...a very interesting and original person.

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THE WORLD OF STRENGTH The accountant's name was Klim Ivanovitch. Being the eldest son of a wealthy family, he was a secure and independent man. Nevertheless, he suffered from the fragility of his own body. His younger brothers closely resembled heroic giants. They excelled in any type of work, whether it be toiling in the fields, doing carpentry, or blacksmithing. Klim’s body however was not very good looking. He was pale, thin, and sallow. Lifting a blacksmith's hammer or even a simple bag of grain was impossible for him. When he was a boy, his father Ivan Fadeich would look upon him and simply sigh the words...”not a worker, definitely not a worker”. Since he was too weak to work, Klim Ivanovitch decided to get a degree in accounting. After he graduated, he went on to live quite well, however he still resented the hand he was dealt and decided to do something about it. He subscribed to every sports book and magazine he could find. He bought many weights and strength training machines. Then he quietly began training in his little room. He would often fall exhausted onto the floor. He would experience relentless nosebleeds. Even though he wasn't experiencing any special benefits from it, Klim refused to give up on his training. This was a man who bitterly resented the fragility of his body. Then one magical day, he found little Shura in the basement. Shura and Klim soon developed a nice friendship. They were a strange couple. One was a thin, sickly-looking man of thirty years and the other a small yet sturdy twelve-year old. They spent almost every night together. Amongst the chaotic sport literature that was dumped into one pile in accountant’s room, Shura found a lot of magazines and all sorts of instructions for “the development of strength and improvement of the figure." With mixed feelings of frustration, envy and good-natured friendship Klim Ivanovitch helped his new friend understand the stunts of circus and sports terminology. He also learned new exercises with him and told him all kinds of stories about weightlifters, strongmen, gymnasts, and wrestlers of whom he had read about. A whole new world of fantastic strongmen opened up in front of little Shura’s eyes. It should be noted that the passion of Klim Ivanovitch was not something exceptional in contemporary Russia. Wrestling, weight lifting and acrobatics gained extraordinary popularity during this period. Fights were held everywhere. You could see them in the luxurious St. Petersburg Circus called "The Modern" or at the garden of the Puritan society called "The Guardianship of National Sobriety". You could even witness fights in the local theaters of Odessa (modern day Ukraine) and Stavropol (modern day Russia), in the parks of Penza (Russia) and Orenburg (Russia). Even women paid tribute to the overall enthusiasm of strength. www.IronSamson.com

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For example, magazines published such informational notes as "Archangel - the male wrestling competition will be replaced by female fighters such as Ettinger, Sokol'skaya, Morozov, Poddubnaya and so on ...The times are changing", or "Chisinau (modern day Moldova) - A new ladies championship consisting of 12 wrestlers is coming soon. A bit of let down for us because we were expecting to watch male wrestlers and not female". Despite some skepticism regarding female wrestling, it nevertheless continued to exist. It is difficult to say whether or not these kinds of "sports events” were beneficial, however, the mere existence of a women's "championship" is convincing enough evidence of exactly how widespread the sport of strength was in Russia during the early 20th century. Back then, circus and sports were closely related. Popular performances and serious training worked side by side. One can say with complete certainty that the circus was the first promoter of the sport of strongman. Of course, hundreds of savvy entrepreneurs grew rich off of the championships of wrestlers and weightlifters. Naturally, these performances were a far cry from true physical culture. They did however succeed in glorifying the power and beauty of the human body. The cult of strength marched triumphantly across the country. The reasons for this were quite manifest. Russia, originally a country of peasants, was entering the path of capitalistic development. With an enormous bureaucracy constructed of monstrously widespread offices, banks and other non-productive institutions, many people were cut off from their traditional rural way of life. The daily grind of work requiring physical effort was becoming less and less prevalent. Regardless, the Russian people had developed temperaments, moods and inclinations which still gravitated towards manual labor requiring crucial physical activity. A passion in strength training was a natural rebuttal for the people of Russia during this time. This passion was fueled by other reasons as well. If the intelligentsia saw it as a return to the "golden age" of antiquity or to the culture of beautiful bodies, then the poor and uneducated considered the sport to be beneficial on practical terms. There were legends in the villages about peasant boys who became world champions and later returned to their native villages with lots of money to be spent on purchasing cattle or improving the overall economy of their families. These naïve stories drove many of the young village boys toward the circus stage, where they became easy prey for traffickers. Very few of the strongmen returned to their native homes. Most were bound by contracts that they had to fulfill, that is, until they had made a good sum of money for their owners. Nevertheless, more and more Russian strongmen found their way to the circus arena. They hoped to profit from the only thing that separated them from their peers...their incredible strength.

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All this, of course, was obscure to little Shura while he was rummaging through the books and magazines in Klim Ivanovitch's room. Within the pages of those books he saw legendary figures...He read about “Ilya of Murom” defeating the “Nightingale Robber” and about the evil “King of Kalina” who came from Golden Horde. He read about Svyatogor, the epic hero who competed with the farmer Mikula Selyaninovicht and about how Nikita Kozhemyaka fought and defeated the best fighter in all of Pechenegs. In honor of his victory in Kiev, Prince Vladimir founded the city of Pereslavl. Shura kept reading and learned how Alexander Nevsky had defeated Baron Von Birger who was reputed to be the great knight that would "Put a stamp on his name with the edge of your spear". Little Shura greedily swallowed all of these stories of deep antiquity. He especially admired the King “Peter the Great”. Peter was said to break horseshoes without any effort at all. He could also roll silver plates into a tube and could tie a firepoker into a knot. One day, Peter the Great and the King of Poland “Augustus” (who was also known for his mighty strength) began arguing over which one of them was the strongest. Peter ordered one of his servants to bring him a piece of chain-mail. Upon reception, he tossed it into the air cut it clean in half with one blow of his dagger. Augustus could not repeat the feat. The legends got even better as Shura read on! Another day, King Peter was out riding his horse. Along the way, his horse had lost a shoe and Peter stopped at the first available blacksmith. The blacksmith did not recognize the mighty Tsar. Peter was accompanied by several soldiers from the Preobrazhensky Regiment wearing modest dark-green uniforms. King Peter was wearing the very same uniform as his soldiers. The blacksmith assumed that the king was also a soldier. The blacksmith started a fire, took out a horseshoe, lifted the horse’s leg and was ready to begin his work when Peter stopped him “Wait a minute, blacksmith! Come hither so I may observe that horseshoe...” The blacksmith brought the horseshoe to him. Peter picked it up, broke it in half and threw the pieces into through open door of the forge. “No, blacksmith, that shoe was no good!” Surprised by the strength of the "soldier", the blacksmith took another horseshoe, this time one much thicker. Peter broke this one in half as well. “That one was no good either, blacksmith!” Silently, the blacksmith forged a new horseshoe and made it so strong that no matter how hard Peter tried, he could not break it. “Now here is a real horseshoe!” said Peter approvingly.

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When the job was done, the blacksmith received a copper coin from Peter. This time, however it was the king who was surprised. The blacksmith took the coin which he was given and snapped it in half with one movement of his fingers. “No, soldier, this coin is not good enough!” said the blacksmith. Peter gave him a silver ruble, but the blacksmith broke this ruble just as easily as the copper one. “This one is no good either, soldier! Fascinated by the power of the blacksmith, Peter took out a golden coin. “Now this is a real coin!” laughed the blacksmith. Upon his departure, Peter said unto the blacksmith...“Your strength is not at all inferior to mine” “I think it's because we are both men of Russia. My entire family is strong...my father, grandfather, and my children...” Little Shura was also inspired by the strongman legends of his own day. In August 1885 Dr. W. F. Krajewski, organized a circle of athletic enthusiasts in St. Petersburg. Much had been written about Krajewski, both in Russia and abroad. Among the participants of the circle were George Hackenschmidt, Ivan Poddubny, Ivan Zaikin, Peter Krylov, as well as many other strongmen. Krajewski was once quoted as saying "I am confident that weightlifting will become very popular in Russia. This is the future. No country besides Russia has such a mighty collection of exceptionally strongmen". After reading this quote, little Shura felt as if the Krajewski’s words were addressed directly to him... Alexander Zass...the future “Iron Samson”. The sight of medals, badges, winning prizes and trophies were spinning before little Shura's eyes. He once read an article by the “King of Weights” Peter Fedotovich Krylov. Peter had gotten a job in 1895 at the Virgin Field of Likhachev in Moscow after surprising his master with 41-centimeter biceps. The article read as follows... ”Likhachev felt me from all sides” remembered Krylov “and said to me 65 rubles a month, and you must work everyday'”. The contract was signed and circus tours throughout the fairs of provincial towns began. Almost every hour he had to do alternate kettle-bell snatches with the weights, and even fight using belts with amateurs. Then “The King of Weights” went to the Kamchatsky Circus and got a “higher rank”. Remembering the work in this circus, Krylov said that he had to perform 12-15 times a day, and in between the performances he had to stand on the balcony of the circus with clowns and attract the crowd.

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The "King of Weights" playing the role of the barker??? This puzzled the boy, but not for long. His favorite hero was Eugene Sandow. In those years (as well as many years later), Sandow stirred up the imagination of thousands of people. Both oral and published narrations of his fantastically beautiful strength established the foundation of athletic literature. Now, as well as half a century ago, people would talk and argue about Sandow. Even today, he is being attacked and admired as though it were a discussion over one of our contemporaries...as if that fatal car accident which killed this remarkable athlete in October 1925 had never occurred. Far away in the village of Zavolzhskoe, little Shura was idolizing Sandow. His book, "The Construction and Reconstruction of the Human Body" was like a Bible for Shura. With bated breath, he intensely followed the biography of his favorite sports hero. Sandow, a sickly medical student, was passionately interested about human anatomy. He decided to become a professional wrestler and aimed to apply his knowledge in order to improve the body, not just not just heal it medicinally. Sandow always said "You can be better, stronger and more beautiful" to his friends and colleagues and he proved this to the world with his own life. Sandow experienced sensational victories on the carpet time and time again. Sensational, because the public at the time had gotten used to giant athletes weighing 150 kilograms or more. Sandow was different. He was of average height and weighed only slightly more than 80 kilograms. It would seem that this did not leave him any chance of success fighting someone like “Cyclops” whose body resembled an awkward, yet impenetrable cabinet. Sandow was known for the grace of his body and elegance of his poses. However, this athlete was not only able to pose. He broke the world record in pressing using only one arm. While standing on a handkerchief and with one and a half pood dumbbells in his hands, Sandow would jump into the air, do a full backflip and land exactly on the same handkerchief. He once even risked his life in fighting a lion. The unusual combination of agility, strength and physical beauty (all at a very modest weight) made him a most favorite athlete and artist of the circus. It seemed as though an unbridgeable gulf lay between the world champion and the boy from a small village lost in the vast steppes of Russia. Shura thought differently though. He decided to not only learn from Sandow’s system, but also to achieve the same perfection in his own body. (Looking ahead, we would like to note that twenty years later "Health and strength" magazine printed both Sandow's and Zass's portraits side by side on a special color cover) So began Zass's invisible competition with Sandow. www.IronSamson.com

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Little Shura now started every day with gymnastics and jogging. Every spare minute he would spend in the backyard, where he had built his own makeshift arena, complete with a trapeze, homemade stone weights, a springboard and other projectiles. The boy could feel how his body was becoming stronger as if it were filled with new strength. Sandow traveled to America. He was examined by a doctor there. It is said that the athlete asked the minister of Aesculapius to stand on his palm with one foot. Sandow then proceeded to lift the doctor on his outstretched hand and place him on the table. After reading this story Shura did not lose his hope. Besides Sandow’s book he had already became acquainted with the works of such Russian athletes like Anokhin, Dmitriev-Moreau and many more. Now a stubborn teenager, Shura improved his manege. He constructed two horizontal bars for flights from one bar to another, making heavier weights and carving bars from stone. As a reward for all his hard work came his first success. Shura succeeded in “spinning the sun" on the bar, doing a pull up with one hand, and catching a stone thrown from the springboard. He was particularly proud of the latter stunt. This is what it looked like. A big board was stacked across a large log. At one end there was a half pood boulder. The other end was free and Klim Ivanovitch was to jump on it. The stone flew up into the air and little Zass was to catch it. The old stable man Uncle Grisha (who was the only person who shared the same passion for the circus as the two friends) was watching these exercises, and shaking his head disapprovingly. "You are going to break your foreheads, I tell you what. You are gonna cripple yourselves," he exhorted at the amateur circus performers. Sometimes the stone would fly within a millimeter of Shura’s head. One time, Shura failed to keep the stone in his arms and it broke his collarbone. He had his arm in a sling for a month. Then he started all over again. It was no wonder that after many years in the circus arenas, Alexander Zass would be amazing the audience with his two "death defying" acts. First, he would catch a 90-kilo cannonball, shot from a specially made cannon. Then, in order to make the stunt even more complicated, Zass's partner would be launched from a cannon, fly across the entire arena, and land in Zass's iron arms. He called this the “human cannonball”. Well, everything will work out in the future ...Getting back to our story however, Shura the boy, was still competing in absentia with the world champion (Sandow). The forces were not equal. The champion had special weights, coaches, doctors, experience and knowledge. Shura Zass had clumsy, self-made, crooked horizontal bars and a sickly Klim Ivanovitch as a coach/teammate. The kid was stubborn, very stubborn.

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One day, the teenager Shura Zass got some fresh news about his idol Eugene Sandow. Sandow was organizing the first contest of athletic bodybuilding in London. A parade of strongmen was going to be hosted by England’s most famous icons, one of which was Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the famous writer. The contest turned out to be a great success. “If there was going to be a contest, then let there be a real contest” Shura thought to himself. He dared himself to partake in a risky venture. He wanted to get to Saransk and compete. If he couldn't face Sandow, then he would at least compete with local the strongman Vanya Pood. After all, Vanya himself promised to give 10 rubles to anyone who could compete with him. No one was able to do the things that Vanya did. However, little Shura could. Zass would not submit to Ivan Pood. The audience would applaud him just like they were applauding for Sandow in a distant foggy London. Shura began to train for the competition without telling anyone about his plans. He couldn’t find an iron rod to bend so he replaced it with the thick branches of a poplar tree that grew by the side of the road, not far from his home. Still spending his time training with Klim Ivanovitch, the small competitor would sneak out at 3 o'clock in the morning for more training. He would climb that tree like a monkey and try to bend the branches of this old steppe giant. These routines did not only require strength, but also skill, courage, and the ability to maintain balance. It all came in handy for Samson later. For now, all he was getting were stubborn green crowns, calluses on his palms, and bruises on knees... Finally, Shura decided that he was ready for the competition. How this unwavering confidence about his strongman capabilities came about during that time he could never explain. Apparently, a psychological shift was inevitable. After putting so much effort into his training, the boy could not even fathom the possibility of failure. After all, why not? Hadn't he finally mastered the flying boulder? Did he not learn how to “spin the sun" on a homemade horizontal bar? Finally, didn’t he conquer the branches of the mighty steppe tree? All this had proven his strength. The strength of Alexander Zass, was finally ready to enter into combat with Vanya Pood. After that, it would be on to compete with Sandow and with all the other strongmen in the world. Thinking about such pleasant things, our hero went to the circus. He left home early. Over 15 kilometers was a long way to go. He said nothing about his departure to anyone from the estate. He said nothing to his family, to Klim Ivanovitch, nor to Uncle Grisha. The news of Alexander Zass's victory should come before his return. The boy was preparing a big surprise. He got there on time for the day performance. Having bought the cheapest ticket at the end of the hall, Shura followed the acrobats, a rider-girl, and a funny clown with anticipation. www.IronSamson.com

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However, when the magician came into the arena, Alexander's delight was mixed with fear. “What if this strange, grimaced man were to cover him with his starry cloak and turn him into a rabbit?” he thought to himself. After all, he had just been doing such tricks with his assistants... Nothing terrible ended up happening. The illusionist was replaced by trained dogs, and Vanya Pood appeared in the arena. Shura stared at him. The huge, hulking man was completely transformed while performing his strength exercises. When he threw a barrel full of water up into the air or punched his fist through a thick wooden board or tore steel chains. His hands were doing everything so quickly that sometimes Shura’s eyes did not have enough time to analyze the movement. A storm of applause thundered throughout the circus. Then there was silence. The giant took his famous iron bar and invited anyone who wished to try to bend it. An equerry brought a ten-ruble note on a silver plate and placed the tray on the threshold of the arena. The winner would get to keep both the money and the silver tray. The circus was still. Workmen pushed each other. “Come” they said “Try it”. Suddenly, from the very top of the gallery, there was a child's voice "I'll try!" A chuckle ran across the audience. However, the equerry raised his hand and in a wide gesture invited the boy to come down to the arena. When Shura came down into the arena, the circus rocked with laughter. There was a thin boy of approximately twelve years old standing next to the gigantic Ivan Pood. His tightly closed lips and firmly clenched fists looked quite comical. The equerry whispered something to Pood’s assistant, then to the athlete himself, and calming the audience with his raised hand proclaimed... "Ladies and Gentlemen, although our famous hero Ivan Pood feels ashamed to compete with such unequal rival, he was forced to agree to this competition. After all, none of the adults here have had the guts to compete like this young fellow". The audience boomed. Indigently eager to participate, men started punching their way to the arena from every corner of the circus. Their intentions were not quite clear. It was possible to assume that they were not attracted to the arena in order to compete with the strongmen, but to prove their physical abilities to the equerry. A scandal was about to start but the equerry did not lose his cool. Trying to shout over the noise of the disturbed crowd, he announced that Pood is ready to allow everyone to compete on one condition. The hall was quiet again. “Our famous athlete is ready to compete with all of you who want to try their strength” the equerry continued.

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“However, due to the large number of competitors, the management of the circus decided to only allow the wealthy to participate. Vanya Pood will compete with those rivals, who are able to respond to his challenge not only with their strength, but also with their money...in the amount of ten rubles. We were urged to do this in order to attract serious and respectable people to the arena, and not to distract the audience with the feeble attempts of the unsure. The move was made accurately. In a state of extreme excitement, people wishing to compete started to pull out their wallets. They would borrow the missing sum from their neighbors and acquaintances. To refuse meant to be ashamed. Not only would one become a coward in front of the strongman Vanya Pood, but also in front of his voluntary rival, this sunburnt little dare-devil of a boy. What kind of man would let himself be disgraced like this? It was this psychology on which the equerry was counting on. When the chaotic crowd of competitors turned into a straight line, and when all the pledges were made and the money were placed on the tray, he bowed in front of the audience and made a hand signal to the orchestra. Then his eyes fell upon Shura. In all the chaos, the equerry completely forgot about this little culprit who was almost the reason for this scandal. He no longer needed the boy and it was obvious that Shura didn’t have any money. The equerry tried to get rid of him. He whispered in his ear and promised to give a ruble to the boy if he disappears. No such luck. This man in a shabby coat had no idea with whom he was dealing. He was clueless to the fact that the future victor over Sandow was standing in front of him. Shura couldn’t think more of himself. He proudly puffed out his chest and almost shouted "No, I want to compete". His voice was weak and thin, but the first rows could still hear him. "Let him compete without bail, let the boy try!” a bearded man in parterre shouted. “Come on boy! Let us see you perform!” shouted the loges." We want the boy! "replied the back rows. Resistance was useless. The equerry waved his hand and the music began. The attendant in uniform gave Shura the iron rod. It was an ordinary rod...thinner than the poplar branches. Although, why were his hands on fire?, Why is there so much pain in his knee (which he was using for leverage)? Why was there such a loud ringing in the boy's ears? “Just a little bit more and the damned piece of iron will give in” he thought to himself. “Bend, you damn thing, bend!” Little by little, Shura started to hear the whistles, stomping, and laughter from the crowd. The sympathies of the audience had turned into an angry sarcasm. "Come on kid, why don't you go home and suck on your mamma’s boob?" roared the back rows. www.IronSamson.com

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Another person near in the parterre was giggling maniacally. It was over. There was nothing left but failure and shame... Suddenly, stepping over three chairs and the low arena barrier, the bearded man appeared next to Shura. He was the one who first began to shout "let the boy compete". His expensive suit seemed to burst every second now because of his huge strong shoulders. He had a cane with a golden knob on the end of it and a cigar in his mouth. The bearded man carefully put the cane on the barrier, took the iron rod from Shura and inspected it closely. The audience was silent, looking forward to what the new character of this performance will tell them. The bearded man continued to analyze the rod. Only when there was a shout from the back rows... "Hey! You there! What is the matter? What are your staring at?" he said slowly, almost without raising his voice. "Ladies and gentlemen” a very strong but sonorous bass voice rang out. “The boy bent the rod. Inspect it, be my guest!”. He took the steel rod at both ends and raised it above his head. Indeed, there was a curve. There was now a small but clearly visible curve in the famous rod of Vanya Pood. After that, something unimaginable started happening. The applause, the stomping, the whistling, the banging of chairs and benches and all the noises mixed up in one unrecognizable hum. Once again, Shura was the hero of the crowd. Having lost his authority over the crowd, Vanya Pood tried to shout through the hundreds of mouths and convince the visitors that it was not the boy who bent the rod. "It was him!” yelled Ivan, pointing his finger at the bearded man who was smiling serenely.“He did it!! He twirled it, twisted it, and bent it a little bit!". However, no one listened to Vanya. The man who just a few minutes ago was the sheer incarnation of strength and power, the idol of the fair, no longer existed. Now there was just a fat, fidgety, sweaty man in hilariously striped tights standing in the middle of the arena. Among all this turmoil only the equerry, the bearded man, and Shura remained relatively calm. Shura did not know what to do. His hands suddenly started to bother him, he hid them behind his back, then thrust deep into his pockets, then crossed them on his chest, and then he immediately hid them behind his back again. The bearded man smiled placidly, leaning on his dandy cane. The equerry was intensely observing the crowd trying to assess the situation. His assessment was correct. Now, after the boy had bent the rod, even if it was only bent a little, it was difficult to say whether or not the bearded man helped him. However, now he knew that the number of people who would like to compete with Vanya Pood would increase. Pood is defeated, and there will be many people willing to show their superiority over the defeated hero. Having come to this conclusion, the equerry raised his hand and shouted in a well trained voice "Gentlemen, let us continue! Everyone who is willing to participate is welcomed to the stage." www.IronSamson.com

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Shura never saw the end of the show. Clutching a paper banknote in his hand, he left the circus together with the bearded man, and they were immediately absorbed by the dense, colorful crowd at the fair. The bearded man stopped at one of the pavilions, put his hand on Shura’s shoulder and said, "Well, goodbye for now. Someday we will meet again. My name is Kuchkin, the fighter. Have you ever heard of me?” Then, after thinking for a while, he added “by the way, it was me who bent the rod a little bit. However, you're a sturdy fellow and you will be able to do more than this. Don’t worry if you think you cheated, this is the circus and it is impossible to survive without cheating". The bearded man giggled in a friendly manner and disappeared into the market’s crowd. Shura was confused. The circus turned out to be a challenging thing. On the one hand, he seemed to lose the competition. At the same time, however, he was praised and encouraged by this great and powerful man. Of course he didn’t earn the money fairly. Then again, the equerry is a crook himself. He knows that none of the contestants will be able to return their deposit so he’s just robbing simpletons. Sandow? Oh, Sandow! This is an athlete, a true sportsman, honest and proud ... Reaching Sandow in his complex thoughts, Shura felt disgusted deep inside his soul. Everything became clear at once. How deep the chaos of the fair ran! This petty bargaining was light years away from the beautiful cult of strength created by the noble and courageous Sandow! How far away from the brilliant victory that he wanted to achieve for all his long focused hours of training. The nobility that he saw in stories of Klim Ivanovitch and in conversations with his Uncle Grisha was gone! At this moment, Shura was much further from his nobility than ever before. So he wandered throughout the fair from one end to the other, cursing the circus, cursing himself, hating all the people milling, scurrying, and bustling about. When it got dark, Shura found himself standing at the front doors of the circus again. The evening performance had started. Everyone was talking about the events that took place earlier that day. They were talking about the boy and his extraordinary strength, and how the equerry robbed money from all the simpletons, about how no one else could bend Vanya’s famous rod after that. The money of simpletons had floated into the pockets of the circus manager and Vanya Pood regained his status as the strongest man. The judgments regarding the events were different. Some said that the boy was surprisingly strong, while others said that it was all a circus trick...that they were just luring money off of simple people. Shura hid himself in a dark edge of the back rows. He was afraid of being recognized. He was ashamed of himself. He was afraid of the punishment which inevitably awaited him at home for having left without telling anyone. Though, he could not leave the circus. www.IronSamson.com

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The show was peaceful. Once again, there were trained dogs, horses, clowns and a magician. It was only Ivan Pood who was frowning and angry. The equerry did not even invite anyone to measure their strength against Vanya. After completing his routine, Vanya left the arena with a few paltry claps from the audience. The performance was over. People began dispersing to their homes. Only then did Shura start thinking about what he should do next. He figured that back home his family had already risen to the alarm. He could envision the anxious faces of his parents, Klim Ivanovitch and Uncle Grisha. All their neighbors knew about his father's hot temper. Meeting him at night would not be a good idea. Shura felt deeply unhappy. Suddenly a thought entered his head. “What if he were to stay at the circus?” The morning is wiser than the night. It would be better to spend the night there under some bench than to wander around the city at night and get arrested as some kind of tramp in some strange city, right?” However, the benches were too narrow to hide under and there weren't any other secret hiding places. Not being able to come up with any solutions, Shura began making his way toward the exit. Then suddenly he saw some big wooden boxes. While approaching them, the boy looked around carefully. There were not a lot of people left at the circus and almost all the lanterns were extinguished. He made sure that no one was watching him, and quickly slid into one of the boxes and sat on his haunches. He curled himself into a ball and remained like that for a pretty long time. He peered out from his hiding place, and saw the thing that he feared most of all. On their way directly towards him, two attendants with lanterns were approaching. They were checking the premises of the circus before closing it down for the night. The boy had nothing to defend himself with. If they noticed him in the corner, they would surely take him straight to the police station. Fortunately, all the lights at the circus were extinguished and it was almost impossible to see a man hiding in that little corner. Shura quickly scurried into another one of the open boxes. There was nothing there except for some hay and shavings. They were probably used in order to transport some delicate props. The boy buried himself deep inside the packing in just the nick of time. The reflections of swaying fire lanterns passed over his head, and he heard a voice very close to him. “Pathetic whip-round”,said a young and strong voice. “Yeah, it doesn’t get any worse than that,” said a cracked, hoarse bass voice. “Did you see what happened? Zelma almost bit Sergei. A dog is not a man. It does not understand why it has to starve. All it wants is meat.” “That’s right! They don’t understand anything,” responded the companion. “With a hungry beast you won’t get an entrechat.” www.IronSamson.com

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Shura could not hear the rest of the conversation, but he remembered these words for the rest of his life. The lights went away and the people were now gone. Shura was tired and fatigued. He quickly fell asleep. The boy was awoken by his body's own hunger and thirst. He got up carefully and walked through the circus in search of a bucket of water. Although he didn’t find any buckets, he did manage to find something that rocketed him into a world of delight...namely weights, barbells and other strongman equipment. "Very well” said a the little man who would someday beat Sandow. “Now I shall test my strength". Though no matter how hard Shura tried, he could not lift the barbell even the tiniest little bit off the ground. Vanya Pood had lifted it using outstretched arms without any visible effort. This was a moment of deep understanding. Standing in the dark corner of the circus at the break of dawn, Shura Zass realized how far he was from the victory over his well-known rivals. The circus was starting to wake up. Growling and snoring could be heard from the animal stalls. They were being woken up by hunger and thirst just like Shura had been. The circus employees were sure to arrive soon. It was time to escape into the wild. Shura crawled along the edge of the tent, looking for a place where it could be lifted. This is how he would escape. He found that the ropes were a little loose in one of the corners. As Shura lifted the tarp, beams from the rising sun struck him in the eyes. For a couple of minutes he was perplexed. He had to do something. The first thing he thought of was the wrath of his father. For leaving home without permission his father might not only beat him, but even kick him out of the house. However, there was no choice but to go home and confess. Although the timid idea to stay and beg for work at the circus did flash through his mind for a second, the vicissitudes of the previous day buried that option. Alas, our hero began his journey home. Frustration, fear, and shame all made his long walk home seem even longer. Shura took a roundabout way home through the ravines and forests. He did not want to meet any of his friends. His feet were bloody and sore. The urge to sleep and eat was unbearable. Luckily he had managed to get a drink from a stream along the way. Around noon, he finally opened the door to his house. There was nobody there. He found a piece of bread and an onion lying on the table. After eating this simple grub, Shura immediately fell asleep at the table. He was awoken by one of his elder brothers. The conversation with his brother was extremely brief. “Where have you been all night?” “In the city, at the circus. Where did Father go?” www.IronSamson.com

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“He went into town. He's gone to the police. You never ran into him on the road? “No, I did not take the road.” “You're gonna get it tonight.” “I know.” Shortly thereafter, Mother and the other children came home. It turned out that the whole family had been looking for him in the nearby gullies since morning. “We thought something bad had happened to you...that maybe the bandits had stolen the Zass's youngest son. Shura answered all the questions reluctantly while hiding his eyes. Mother started making decisions. "Saddle up and ride the horse into the field,” she said. “If Father comes back and finds you out there working, maybe he will have mercy on you." However, that's not what ended up happening. Shura returned home after a hard day's work, which was preceded by chaotic circus events and a restless night. He was nearly fainting from exhaustion when he saw his father standing in the doorway before him. Senior Zass was probably already aware his son's adventures. The whip in his hand was witness to this. Years later during an interview, whilst recalling this episode of his childhood, the famous circus performer Alexander Zass used the English saying "Be happy that you don't have to walk a mile in my shoes". This saying was very similar to the old russian saying "It's good that you haven't had to wear my skin". Needless to say, Shura’s "skin" was bursting at the seams later that evening. Father never uttered a single word until he finished his job of whipping his boy's back. Even then, he said but a few words to his son. “You are guilty and you will have to live in the closet on the bare floor eating only bread and water”. Even the money that Shura earned in the circus did not soften his anger. This regime lasted for three days. On the fourth day Shura was informed that he was being shipped off to a distant village to work as a shepherd for a year. Father made an agreement with the manager about this dark and thankless work for his younger son. His goals were merely pedagogical. The boy's self-righteousness needed to be severely punished.

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FAR AWAY IN THE STEPPE Shura embraced Klim Ivanovitch and Uncle Grisha. He then dropped two selfmade rods into the bottom of the chaise, and as they write in the novels...“went off to meet his fate”. Fate was not very merciful towards the teenager. He was supposed to help the shepherd with a huge flock. The flock consisted of 200 camels, nearly 400 cows and more than 300 horses. This kind of work is hard for any man, not to mention a 12-yearold boy. From early morning until late in the evening, Shura was to be on the saddle under a burning sun keeping the animals from wandering into someone else's flock or fighting amongst each other. It was a tedious and monotonous job. Physical overload was not the worse thing about this job. Alexander had lost all the wonderful conversations he used to have with Klim Ivanovich. He lost all his books and magazines. He had lost his Uncle Grisha. He didn’t get along very well with the shepherds. These people, without considering the boy’s self-esteem, scoffed at his misadventures, ridiculed him, and condemned Shura’s passion for the circus. The training actually helped Shura out a lot. At first, he had barely enough strength to get to bed after a hard day. Though little by little, he was able to carve out an hour or two for training with his homemade weights. Shura began training with the thick green branches of trees. He tried to bend them using only his hands, without thrusting his body. Eventually he added new exercises. He would drag large stones and hold them with only his fingers. He would make long runs with a calf on his shoulders. Communicating with animals also became a great experience for the future circus performer. He tried to teach his horses the tricks that he had seen in the circus, improving his horse riding and vaulting. Pretty soon, the boy began to feel the horse's back as confident as the earth. Shura tried to subdue his animals with affection instead of force. After countless failures he managed to get a lot of angry and stubborn camels to eagerly obey him. What really amazed the other shepherds though and eventually won them over was when he made friends with the guard dogs. He was given six large wolfhounds. These dogs were not only fierce and ruthless toward the wild beasts, but also toward each other and the peaceful animals whom they were guarding. The only person who was fearlessly added to the pack was little Shura Zass. He had even ventured to fight the most angry and powerful of the dogs. Of course, this was no comparison to Sandow’s fight with a lion, but for Shura it was indeed a victory. Alexander also learned how to shoot. During the long winters, he would often have to defend himself against the

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wolves. In other words, this "exile" was actually very beneficial for the future “Iron Samson”. Winter gave way to spring and spring turned into summer. The fall approached along with the termination of his punishment. One day a chaise arrived to pick up Shura and return him home.

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FIRST VICTORY In the village of Volchanovka, outside of Saransk, lived at the time a farmer by the name Petrov. There were many legends that bore this man's name. It was said that he once went to the blacksmith to order a horseshoe. When the blacksmith turned away toward the furnace to get a billet, Petrov lifted an anvil and hid it under his sheepskin coat. Confused and surprised, the blacksmith started to look for the missing piece of equipment. "It was just here just a minute ago! It can’t be tricks of the Devil! He couldn’t take it away, could he?" Petrov was holding the huge burden under his coat and smiling slyly. Separating the truth from fiction in this story would be difficult, but Petrov was still considered to be the strongest man in the county. Over time, he himself started to believe it. The farmer boasted irresistibly about his strength. One day the farmer was arguing with Father Zass about the matter. The father announced to Petrov that he was ready to gamble. If his son, Alexander could not repeat all of Petrov's stunts the following spring, then Father Zass would give the farmer one of his horses. Suffice to say, Father Zass had heard the rumors about his son’s occupation and the controversy had a pretty solid foundation. They shook hands on the bet. That is why when Shura returned home, his father met him kindly and freed him from all the peasant labor for the entire winter. He even asked Shura what kind of equipment he needed in order to beat the strongman Petrov in the spring. Such a turn of events was both a pleasure and a surprise for Shura. Not only did Father believe in him, but was also willing to help him become the strongest man in the county. He persuaded his father to buy real dumbbells and kettlebells. He ordered the blacksmith to make an assortment of iron rods and chains. Together with Klim Ivanovitch, Shura had studied carefully all the strength systems that were offered to the disciples by recognized authorities. Training was extremely intense all winter long. Then came the first day of Maslenitsa (Orthodox holiday that celebrates the end on the Great Lent in the Eastern Europe, also known as Pancake Week). This was the day when the battle between Alexander Zass and Dmitri Petrov would take place. Many people from nearby villages came to see this bizarre show. Klim Ivanovitch was unanimously elected to be the judge of the contest and dressed appropriately. The one-armed Uncle Grisha was assisting Shura.

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Petrov entered the circle with confidence and cast a disdainful glance upon his young frail opponent. For his first feat, he took a metal rod (half a meter long and one and a half centimeters thick) and he bent it like a horseshoe. Shura was able to do the same without any effort. Then he took a long iron rod, which was twice as thick as the first. Petrov wrapped it around his body, and straightened it back. This stunt was more difficult for Shura to repeat. There was blood underneath his fingernails and his eyes darkened. Nevertheless, he eventually bent the damn piece of iron and had once again repeated Petrov’s stunt. Next, blocks of wood were placed inside the circle. The competitors stood on top of them. A stone wrapped tightly with thick piece of wire was placed equidistant from either pole. The competitors were to rip the stone from the ground by gripping the wire with one hand. Petrov began first. With a deadly grip, he dug his fingers into the wire, and the stone flew up. Shura repeated the feat. A unanimous gasp of surprise swept over the crowd. The audience applauded the young athlete in unison. “Well, now you try to do what I can do” said Alexander, picking up a thick steel chain. Petrov watched him askance. Alex twisted the chain and pulled at it sharply. One of links broke. The enemy was clearly puzzled. He took the chain doubtfully, turned around and threw on the ground. “Alexander Zass won!” shouted Klim Ivanovitch gleefully and proceeded to hug Shura. “Stop!” said Petrov suddenly. “I have not yet been defeated. Zass just confused me with his tricks. I want to measure not only strength, but also courage with him. Let him do that which I am about to show you”. Shura became very wary. Was there some other stunt unknown to Shura in the stock of his enemy? Klim Ivanovich declared that under the terms of competition Shura Zass had already won. The crowd responded with a consonant drone. However, Shura stepped forward and held out his hand. He was inviting the enemy into the circle and shouted "Come on, show me what else you got!" Then Petrov brought forth a menacing strip of serrated metal. He bent it around his neck. Blood started running down his shoulders and arms. He then joined the two iron ends and tied them into a knot, like a necktie. Completely covered in blood and supported by the shouts of locals, he rested a while with this terrible tie around his neck. He then stood up and untied the knot without any apparent effort at all. www.IronSamson.com

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“Now let us see if Zass can repeat that,” Petrov croaked. If he unleashes the metal necktie that I will tie on him, then he will win the victory”. It was impossible to resist. Petrov told Shura to kneel down and he began to tighten the band around his neck. He tied it so tightly that it was impossible for Shura to move his head. Finally Petrov turned the knot of the “necktie” to his back. Blood was running down his fingers in little streams while the boy was trying to rotate the necktie from his back to his chest. He couldn’t breath. The first attempt was a failure. He tried again. There was only a little left to go. Shura finally turned the knot to his chest and while on the brink passing out, managed to untie it. The victory was complete. Klim Ivanovithc embraced the winner. The boy's father pulled him into his chest and gave a friendly slap on the back. Uncle Grisha just kept saying "He's a hero...a real hero." Shura was happy. He had finally won his first victory!

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TO THE DEPOT OR TO THE CIRCUS? Little had changed in Shura’s life after defeating Petrov. Although, rumors of his extraordinary courage and strength did start spreading throughout the surrounding countrysides and villages. Shortly thereafter people started inviting him to all sorts of parties in order to test their strength. The manager, who happened to be a big fan of strength competitions, gave Shura a golden coin for good luck. Other than that, everything else carried on just as it had before. Shura went out into the field to do the hard peasant labor just as he always had. He didn’t like parties. The fact that they often times ended with people getting drunk and starting fights turned him off. For all his extraordinary strength, Alexander was a surprisingly quiet and non-combative person. He was still however beckoned by Sandow’s success. He still tried to emulate his deity in everything he did. Shura gave every spare moment he had to his homemade arena. The summer passed and soon it was autumn again. Seemingly out of nowhere, the boy's fate took a turn for the better. The fact of the matter was that Shura’s father did not want to doom his youngest son to a life of peasantry. His dream was to see him grow up to be an engineer. Well, perhaps not an engineer (which required a lot of money for education), but at least a someone who could drive the mighty locomotive...someone dressed in a uniform cap. At the time, being a locomotive engineer was not only honorable and lucrative, but in a way very romantic. This "Iron Beast" with its long tail of cars had just started to conquer the vast expanses of the Russian landscape. Iron rails seemed just as mysterious and alluring as the road to space seems for our generation. Father knew how to get his way. Despite the rather timid protests of Shura (whose heart was sold to the circus), Little Zass was to be sent away to Orenburg. According to one of the knowledgeable fellow countrymen, the Orenburg depot was hiring teenagers to work as stokers. If they got lucky, they might even get to work as the driver's assistant. Orenburg welcomed Shura with a dreary autumn rain. The town was buried in the mud. The soul of our hero was as dreary as the rain. For him the path to the depot was the most difficult road in his entire life. It was not as if Little Zass did not share the romantic inclinations of Father Zass. Long roads as well as powerful machines fascinated him. The circus however was a brilliant kaleidoscope of performances, strongmen, smart people, good-natured faces, and well trained horses. Abandoning these thoughts was beyond Shura’s ability. Upon his arrival in the new town, the boy saw a poster on the wall of the station which bore the words "Circus Tour of Andrzhievskogo". “Well” he thought to himself “if I must www.IronSamson.com

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abandon the circus, then why not take one last look at its beauty before I start my work?” "After all it is not necessary to go to the depot immediately upon arrival” thought Shura. Not to mention the fact that the Circus of Andrzhievskogo (unlike the farce in Saransk) was a famous circus. Few were lucky enough to witness such a famous circus" He slowly made his way towards the address indicated on the poster. With a little knapsack on his back, he crossed the threshold of the circus. Once again the performance captured his imagination which began whirling and scattering into a downward spiral. The only bad thing one could say about the circus was that the magic ended too quickly. The crowds of people began to disperse. Shura, who was trying to avoid saying goodbye to this fabulous world, purposely lingered by the door of the stables. It was at that moment when the director of the circus saw him. As one might suspect, this man was not the least important person in the circus. Having decided that the boy wanted to see the evening performance without paying, he grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the exit. Resentment, rage and anger swept over Shura. He jerked his hand with such force that the director of the arena (not expecting such fierce resistance) fell to the floor. Circus workers ran over to help him but Shura was already fully prepared. He was armed with a purse full of money that was given to him for his trip. The sight of money had a soothing effect on the director of the arena. Having received a fee from Shura to sit in the first row of the orchestra, the director felt it was his duty to escort this "honorable guest" to his seat. The second performance was a bit different from the first. An act consisting of trained dogs and strongmen were added. It was a big surprise for Shura when upon the bowing giant he recognized the same beard as the man who had helped him two years ago in Saransk. What terrible shape his old friend was in! His stomach was saggy, his hands flabby, and his knees trembled. With severe shortness of breath, Kuchkin performed the usual stunts of the circus strongman. It seemed like he had been out of shape for a long time. After the performance, Shura scurried around looking for his long lost acquaintance. He found the bearded man in the buffet keeping company with a strange disheveled crowd. The giant was holding a shtof (1.23 liters) of vodka and shouting something incoherent into the ear of another very drunk gentleman wearing a uniform frock coat. It took Kuchkin a long time to recognize Shura, and when he finally did, he started to cry. He sat there helplessly in tears, burying his head into the boy’s chest. Suddenly, he stood up, straightened out his tight jacket and announced in a completely sober voice "Let’s go to the owner. You are gonna be working with us in the circus." www.IronSamson.com

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Andrzhievsky, the owner of the circus was a graying blond man with a thin, nervous face. After taking a look at Shura from head to toe, he cracked his long fingers and said indifferently "Do you want to work in the circus?". Shura was too excited to even utter a single word, so he nodded instead. “Well, well” Andrzhievsky said. “You can do the dirty work around the circus. You will be doing any...take note...any work that I require of you. Life will seem difficult. I can assure you. Your way will not be strewn with roses. You will have to work many hours per day and sometimes even go without food. Think it over well before you decide to tie your fate to the circus...before you become a vagabond and a performer...or maybe just a vagabond,” Andrzhievsky added and smiled. “You will never be able to go back from this path. It's out of the question…” Shura was surprised. His words remarkably coincided with the words of his father on the eve of his departure urging him to stay away from the circus and to work a serious job instead. Noticing the confusion of the boy, Andrzhievsky suddenly changed his voice. “Well, what's taking you so long, young man?” he said, patting Shura on the shoulder. “I'll stay,” Shura blurted out. Kuchkin stood in silence during the entire conversation. It seemed like the owner didn’t even want to notice him. When Shura was leaving, he heard the two voices from behind a closed door. Kuchkin’s voice sounded guilty and dull, while the owner’s voice was sharp and loud. The only thing Shura clearly heard were the words “drunk” and “I’ll fire you!”. The Andrzhievsky Circus stayed in Orenburg for a long time. The young circus performer did have to work really hard, but he was nonetheless happy. Apart from all the crummy labor he had to do like cleaning the arena and taking care of animals, he also got to help Kuchkin during his performances. Despite their age difference, Kushkin and Shura quickly became friends. Shura told his new "godfather" (Kuchkin) everything. He told him about Sandow and about Klim Ivanovitch. He related the brutality of Petrov's iron necktie and about his intentions to work at the train depot. Kuchkin was very fond of the boy. He taught him the various stunts of circus strongmen. Most notably he trained his young assistant in the balancing of heavy objects. In those days, such routines were very popular. In front of the audience’s eyes, a huge samovar would be filled with hot water and burning coal. When steam began to billow from the samovar's lid, the strongman juggler placed it on his forehead and walked around the arena thusly. This routine required a combination of strength, agility and courage. Kuchkin himself could no longer perform the stunt. All his drinking had made it impossible for him to keep his balance. Therefore he started rehearsing the "samovar balancing" stunt with Shura. www.IronSamson.com

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Kuchkin stuck to the safety of breaking horseshoes. Although less effective than the samovar stunt, it was still an all-around crowd pleaser. Ten times per evening, he would bet with the audience and break two horseshoes stacked on top of one another. He had been dubbed “The Horseshoe King”. One day, while the circus was in one of it's financial lulls, Andrzhievsky ordered to put up new posters around the city. The posters informed that he would personally hand over a purse of gold to anyone who brings a horse-shoe which the famous athlete Kuchkin could not break to the circus. Similar posters were sent to all the nearby villages. That's how the pandemonium began. Famous blacksmiths traveled hundreds of miles to try their luck. They wanted to win that purse filled with gold. Tickets were selling out and the circus troupe was in high spirits. For the strongman Michael Kuchkin however, it was too much pressure. He started drinking so heavily that he could barely walk out onto the stage in order to perform. The owner whispered into Kuchkin's ear before he went on stage. He told him that if he fails to break the allotted number of horseshoes today, then tomorrow he will be fired. Shura had never seen his friend in such terrible condition. A man of tremendous height and size looked like a deflated ball now. His arms were hanging helplessly, he seemed shorter and was tearfully begging the owner to let him skip the performance. Andrzhievsky however was inexorable. Kuchkin entered the arena. The audience greeted him with applause and cheers. A skinny and obviously drunk man in the third row was greeting him and shouting especially loud. "Come on, come on” he shouted to Kuchkin. “Get out here! I have prepared something for you! Have you ever seen a horseshoe like this?! The purse of gold is mine!” Everyone who had brought a horseshoe was invited into the arena. Besides the loud-mouthed man, there were an additional 30 people with horseshoes. Then Andrzhievsky appeared at the arena and announced that it is necessary to cast a lot. "Our strong man will break only six horseshoes today, just like he does every night". The owner finished his speech and invited applicants to the lottery. As is often the case, the little man who was boasting about his horseshoe lost the lottery. He was outraged and began swearing, proclaiming that Kuchkin was a coward and that the owner was a rogue. In order to avoid a scandal, Andrzhiesky announced that this seventh horseshoe will also be broken tonight. Kuchkin began with the horseshoe of the imposing loudmouthed man. He started jerking on it but was failing. The horseshoe remained intact. He tried again without any success. The audience was amazed and the peasant was happy. The other six candidates www.IronSamson.com

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were silent and still. It was very realistic to believe that their horseshoes would not be broken either. If so, then they would receive a handsome reward. It was necessary to save the prestige of the circus and the owner’s money. Andrzhievsky himself appeared before the audience for the second time. With a serene smile on his face, he announced that Kuchkin will first break the other six horseshoes and then come back to the seventh. Kuchkin understood what was waiting for him if he were to fail. Sweat was running down his body and his muscles were tense with anxiety. Shura handed him another horseshoe. Kuchkin broke it easily. This helped him to regain confidence and he was able to break the remaining 5 horseshoes from those who had won the lottery. Now it was time to give the "enchanted" horseshoe one more try. Kuchkin took hold of the horseshoe and flipped it around a little bit as if he was analyzing it. He then proceeded to break it in two with one powerful jerk. The owner of the amazing horseshoe was startled. He carefully examined the place of fracture and then threw the two halves into the arena. He waved his hands in disappointment and walked out the door accompanied by the roar of the audience. The prestige of the circus had been saved along with the owner’s money. After the performance, Andrzhievsky hugged Kuchkin and gave him three gold coins. Kuchkin however, refused the gift. After finding Shura, he brought him to the owner. "He won! Zass, not me!" said Kuchkin in broken voice. The owner demanded an explanation. Stammering and barely squeezing out the words, Shura described how during the performance, he quietly replaced the horseshoe. Only he and Kuchkin knew about it. "Here is the real one, still in one piece" concluded Shura and handed the horseshoe to the owner. Andrzhievsky just laughed. Carefully examining the piece of iron, he told Kuchkin that he was lucky. It was really a unique blacksmith product. "If Zass weren't so bright, the circus would have been in a lot of trouble right now." He gave the gold coins to Zass. It was his second circus honorarium. Once again it was obtained through dishonesty. Shura was experiencing some cognitive dissonance. On the one hand he had a strong aversion towards cheating, but on the other hand he had a passionate love for the circus in his soul. In the end, his love for the circus turned out to be the stronger emotion of the two. From that point on, Alexander Zass became a circus performer. In order to show his gratitude, the owner gave Zass his own little show. He had to demonstrate his strength by throwing a hefty stone back and forth from one hand to the other. Preparation for the "balancing samovar" act was also going well and was promising a resounding success. To his father, Shura wrote that he had been studying diligently and working with all his soul. In one sense it was a lie, but in another sense very true. www.IronSamson.com

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Alexander Zass was really putting his entire heart and soul into his work. He was just working as a circus performer instead of a stoker.

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A PROFITABLE BUSINESS Shura felt now like full member of the large circus family. Neither hard work, modest earnings, nor the fear of his father's wrath could dampen his joy of belonging to the motley, exuberant and funny world of the circus. However, all good things must come to an end someday. It wasn't too long after when admission started getting disastrously low. Andrizhevsky’s tricks were no longer effective. It was time to change their location. The owner decided to move the circus to Tashkent. He hoped to improve his finances there while simultaneously buying a few horses he could train. When Shura found out about the impending departure, he ran to Kuchkin. After all, if the circus were to leave town, how would his Father keep receiving letters from Orenburg? If Father stopped receiving letters then he would surely write to the depot and the truth would be revealed. Kuchkin nodded his head ruefully, but couldn’t come up with a good plan. The situation seemed hopeless. Shura would be forced to leave the circus. Andrzhievsky was quite vexed when he found out about all this. After all, a promising young circus strongman who didn’t shun any dirty labor was leaving the circus. Shura told him everything. He told about how he left home two years ago and participated in one of the local circus shows. Andrzhievsky ordered him to return to his father. "Go, Shura, and confess everything to your father,” said the owner. “Remember that people often have to lie and lying and cheating is part of the circus performer's profession. However, there must be an island of truth somewhere in the middle of this sea of lies. Let your family be the island of truth for you. I feel that your parents are honest people who care about your fate. Although, I really don’t want to let you go, I think it best for you to run along and tell them everything openly". Kuchkin got senselessly drunk on the day of Shura's departure. However, during his drunken chatter, he did manage to say something important. “You are a very strong man, little Zass” said Kuchkin. “Moreover, you weigh only 63 kilograms. I'm also strong, but I weigh 114 kilograms. Practice, practice, practice in spite of everything, and you will be the strongest circus performer in the world." "What was the right thing to do?" thought Shura to himself as headed for the station. He remembered what a warm goodbye his circus fellows gave him...even the ones who weren't really that close to him. It seemed to Shura that he had irrevocably lost his kind and merry family.

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It would be a while before the train to Saransk arrived. Shura threw his bags onto the platform and sat down. He had mostly sad thoughts in his head. He thought about the circus. Everyone was probably packing up everything into boxes and loading them into the big red cars down at the railroad station. He thought about the shame that he would have to suffer at home after six months of living the good life. His attention was caught by a large sheet of paper fastened to a pole at the end of the platform. It was a poster for Yupatov’s Circus who was touring a nearby town and would come to Orenburg the following week. He heard a lot about Yupatov’s Circus. This was the so-called "Circus Masterpiece." It was a small troupe that consisted of famous “circus stars”. Each one of them was a consummate professional in his own genre. Noteworthy was the fact that each participant of the troupe had to pay a fee in order to work there and this tied the entire troupe together. Shura decided that this was his destiny calling. Shura was weighing the two options in his head. He could choose to go back to Saransk and face the guilt, punishment, and shame...or he could try to get a job at Yupatov’s Circus and perhaps succeed as a circus performer. Most importantly, he would have the possibility of getting back together with the circus in Orenburg and thereby pulling off the heavy denouement. As one might have guessed, after very little hesitation, Shura chose to go with Yupatov’s Circus. A mere two hours later, Shura found himself at the entrance to the circus. The show made a great impression on him. After having worked for Andrzhievsky’s circus, the shows performed by these “stars of the arena” impressed him with their cleanness, brilliant ideas and unique technique. When the show was over, our hero went on to negotiate with the director of the arena. Life among the circus artists had taught him how to speak to these kind of people. Having introduced himself as Alexander Zass, formerly employed by Andrzhievsky’s circus, he told the director all about his performances and hid the fact that he worked as a dirty laborer. When it came time to explain why he wanted to work for Yupatov instead, Shura explained simply "I want to earn more." Although it wasn't very nice towards Andrzhievsky, it did make a very convincing argument. The director of the Yupatov circus appreciated it. Half an hour later Shura was invited to talk to the owner of the circus. Hardly looking at Zass, Yupatov announced that he was willing to take him on as a laborer. With no delight, but with satisfaction Shura nodded in agreement. The owner then went on to confuse the boy by saying "Before we go to the circus, you have to pay a deposit of 200 rubles. Do you agree?"

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“I agree” blurted Zass. “But you see” he continued in a pleading tone “I don’t have the money right now, but I can bring it to you by the end of the week” “Very well then” agreed Yupatov. “However, if you do not bring me the money by the end of this week, then you will be forced to leave the circus without salary”. It was agreed. In the meantime, he was to begin his duties immediately. He was taken to the stables and ordered to clean up the horses. After dinner, in the company of stablemen and cleaners, Shura went to the lumber-room and tried to fall asleep. He could however not fall asleep with the thought of that damned money haunting him. “What if I write home and ask my father?” Shura drove this idea away as unrealistic. However, there were no other solutions. This fantastical idea of writing his father started to seem more and more feasible...but what would he write? With all these thoughts swirling through his head, Shura eventually fell asleep. By morning he had everything planned out. The circus was not yet awakened and Little Zass started writing a letter to Father Zass. The calculation was simple. The father was hostile towards the circus and did not feel that it was a real job. However, he had said many times that he was ready to help his children make their own way in life. "That's wonderful” reasoned Shura. “I need the money to get a lucrative job and it is completely unnecessary to mention the fact that the job is at the circus." He wrote that on his way to Saransk to visit his parents, he had met a railway contractor who offered him a job. The job promised much more wealth than that of a stoker, or even an assistant engineer. Only in order to obtain the job he needs 200 rubles "as a pledge of honesty". After having torn up the first few letters, Shura finally wrote one that seemed convincing. He was not sure that his father could easily transfer such a significant amount of money. “However, if Father were to get into debt because of me, I'll will pay him back" thought Shura on his way to the post office. The week came and went. The owner called Shura and asked about the money. He said that he sent a letter to his parents and asked if he could wait just a day or two. “My father will not fail” said Alexander. Indeed, the money came the very next day. Alexander Zass had now become a full member of Yupatov’s shows. The performances were really great, especially the ones by Anatoly Durov. Shura quickly became Durov's assistant. A clown-dressed man was walking into the arena and summoning his artists with a whistle. Birds appeared first, then dogs, then chickens, ducks, pigs, monkeys, rats and mice. Unimaginable noises and hustle filled the arena. The hens were clucking, the ducks quacking, the monkeys screaming, the pigs were grunting, and the mice were squeaking. It was a veritable Noah's Ark! www.IronSamson.com

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After Durov’s signal the noise stopped and there was absolute silence. It was like a prologue to the performance of the animal theater. The performance consisted of several funny scenes. A rope was lowered from the very top of the dome. There was a big grinning cat’s muzzle at the top of the rope. Rats and mice had to climb up this vertical rope and climb up into the jaws of this terrible cat's head. When the little "performers" executed this stunt, the audience burst into friendly and sympathetic applause. The crown performance of the "animal program" was the famous “Durov’s Train”. Two monkeys climbed on the train, playing the role of the driver and his assistant. Dogs and cats were occupying the first-class carriage, chickens were placed in second class, and third class was left for the pigs. The rats and mice climbed into the trunk. Then the train slowly began moving. The performance ended with a standing ovation by the audience. After six months of work in the company of Durov, Shura was suddenly transferred in order to substitute for the sick cashier. The salary was great there. He was even able to return the money to his father without giving much thought to the point he made about it being for "beneficial" work. However, it was quite boring to sit behind a desk all day. As soon as the cashier had recovered, Shura returned to the arena. This time however he did not return to Durov, but rather to the troupe of riders instead. Yupatov’s circus had four dzhigits (young and skillful horse riders). Zass became the fifth. Just as Alexander started to feel at home in this new company, he was immediately transferred to work with the trapeze artists. This was the way Yupatov educated his young performers. He led them through many specialties. Firstly, in order to identify the real talents of the artist, and secondly, to have a substitute on hand if need be. Pretty soon Shura left the trapeze troupe. Although he did enjoy working with them a lot, it was now time for him to join the group of fighters. The senior in the group was named Sergei Nikolayevsky, a magnificently built giant who weighed about 140 kilograms. While examining the fighters, Shura discovered something amazing. It turns out that the distribution of roles in the team did not coincide with the actual features of the athletes. Nikolayevsky was the only exception. His superiority was indisputable. He was also the strongest, most cunning, and bravest man on the entire team. The rest of the bout was determined not by real advantage in strength and technique, but merely for selfish reasons. The audience (who was rushing into the circus like a waterfall) liked to gamble on the athletes. The sums of bets were considerable. It was actually the bets that decided the fate of every match. As a result, wrestlers won a lot of money from

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simpletons who considered themselves experts in the circus. However, this money was sheer trifles compared to what the owner of the circus (Yupatov) won. Here's how the grift was executed. In the beginning of every battle, a visitor (or "shill" in circus terminology) reported confidentially to two or three neighbors that Nikolayevsky was not healthy and will perform badly. The neighbors would to be sure to bet on Serdyuk, the champion of Little Russia (modern Ukraine before the 20th century). A dispute would erupt. The "shill" would then let it burst into a quarrel and then quickly offer a bet...something like a hundred rubles on the unpopular Serdyuk. In response to such a fantastic bet, other bets would be made in sums of 500+ rubles against the hundred on Nikolayevsky. The "shill" would pretend that he was excited and make lots of bets. The owner of the circus was constantly informed about the escalations of disputes. When the owner felt that the game was finally “worth the candles" Nikolayevsky received the signal to "take a fall". The events would evolve differently as the show went on. Some gamblers would give their money to the shill obediently. Others would start scandals accusing the wrestlers of cheating. Sometimes, they would even wallop the shill. However, the routine was never changed. There was no talk of an honest victory in an honest fight. Rarely, very rarely, a fighter would fight honestly "according to the Hamburg Score", i.e. without any witnesses (the expression came from the famous Hamburg championships where audiences weren't allowed to watch). Sometimes during one of the "Hamburg Score" fights, the strongest could turn out to be the weakest. Only Nikolayevsky was out of competition. He was really the best fighter and other fighters recognized that. Knowing his strength, Sergei loved to bully his friends and dare them to compete with him in risky events. One day, when the wrestlers were getting inebriated at a nearby pub, Nikolayevsky started a very interesting conversation. “You're all are certainly strong” started Nikolayevsky, moving a bottle of beer towards him. “However, is there a person here among you who has the guts to carry out one simple task? Instead of showing you, let me tell you about it first”. Nikolayevsky was drunk and talking rather incoherently. “Do you know our tiger? Yeah, Akbarka. Here is the deal, I'll go and reconnoiter the bars of his cage. Then I'll let one of you do the same...” That was a challenge. The wrestler’s crowd went back to the circus. Zass was the only sober person in the company (he understood the danger of this venture). It is unlikely that the tiger would be merely sitting and watching as someone tries to bend the bars of his cage. Shura had seen the lightning-like jump of the beast. He had seen the mighty strikes of his paws and the blood that followed. It was impossible to convince his comrades to stop. The intoxication in their heads drove them nearer to the cage. www.IronSamson.com

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The fighters pushed away the confused guard and burst into a menagerie with hubbub and laughter. There stood Akbarka’s cage. Nikolayevsky took off his coat, spat on his hands and grabbed the bars. The tiger raised his head and looked at the tensed giant. The meaning of his look, one could only guess. The buzz around the cage calmed down. Only Sergei’s heavy breathing could be distinctly heard. When Nikolayevsky stepped away from the bars, everyone saw how the two huge steel rods were now spread from each other approximately one vershok (1.75 inches). Sergei bowed theatrically and made an inviting hand gesture “Anyone else?”. No one volunteered, understandably so. The host of the cage arose and carefully sniffed the bars that Nikolayevsky had bent. Who knows what the tiger would be thinking if someone else were to attempt this feat. Things were getting dangerous. Suddenly, Shura Zass stepped forward. "I'll try" he said, taking off his jacket. Someone laughed behind him. Nikolayevsky humbled the fighter with his heavy look "Quiet, all of you! Little Zass is smaller than the lot of you, yet he has the heart of a man. Well, Alexander, show these cowards what you can do." Sergei tapped Shura on the back in a friendly fashion. The rods were cold. The green eyes of the beast were right in front of him. Shura felt the bad breath of Akbarka, but the bars were already starting to give! Just a little more and they would be curved like Nikolayevskys’! “Well done, Zass” said Sergei. “You have both strength and courage. Well, what about you?” he addressed the other fighters. “Did you all quail?” The sneer provoked the other fighters. Serdyuk threw his jacket on the floor. Ivan Peshcherny slowly rolled up the sleeves of his frock coat. Andrey Vakhonin started warming up his fingers. Seeing the excitement in front of the cell, Akbarka began to run in large circles and throwing himself at the bars. Nikolayevsky, however, did not consider Akbarka’s anxiety to be a good reason to stop the competition. He called the tamer. While he was holding Akbarka with his trident in the far corner, the wrestlers one by one were trying to bend the rods. However, none succeeded in the task. After the last futile attempt, Nikolayevsky smiled and said "Well, now look I can do more." He walked up to the cage and pushed the two rods back together. Shura did the same. The defeated fighters looked at him sullenly, his victory spoke volumes. This victory soon brought with it fresh fruit. Shura was delighted to find out that the circus owner was calling for him in order to negotiate a new performance, a soloperformance that Alexander Zass will perform on his own. Needless to say, Shura was both nervous and excited on his way to the owner’s office. The only trick that he had been hoping for was the "balancing samovar” trick,

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however it was not ready yet. The rest in his opinion, would clearly not fit Yupatov’s circus of masterpieces. Yupatov immediately rejected the idea of the “balancing samovar" because he thought it to be too provincial. He did however ponder long and carefully over the other stunts. After numerous discussions, a new performance plan was born. The basic idea of his show would be in feats of strength such as bending iron rods and breaking chains with his arms and chest. There would be additional stunts which were less difficult but they were crowd-pleasers nonetheless. In order to demonstrate the power of the pectoral muscles, Shura had to lie on his back and a special wooden platform containing 10 people would be placed upon him. This trick was improved later on where the athlete would not be lying on a simple floor but instead on a harrow with sharp nails. Meanwhile, he would have a giant stone placed on his chest. In this case, the back muscles had to be strained to such an extent that they would prevent the sharp nails from penetrating skin. In order to demonstrate the strength of the jaw muscles, Alexander would hold a special device in his teeth. This apparatus was then fastened to a platform with two of the heaviest athletes from the circus sitting on it. Sometimes a piano was used instead of a bench. Holding this entire construction in his mouth, he clung his feet into two rings and together with the platform he would be raised up under the very dome of the circus. This trick was especially impressive when done together with a piano and a pianist performing a bravura march while he dangled them from his teeth. The end of the performance was rather unusual. Zass would put an accordion player on the table. Then he would set this table onto a special pole, put the pole on his forehead, and walk out of the arena with all this balanced on his head while the accordion player was playing. Throughout all of Orenburg, posters were pasted up announcing the appearance of a new strongman (Shura sent one of these posters together with a detailed letter to his father. The father sent back an angry note claiming "the circus is nonsense"). There were miles of people lining up to see the performance. The admissions were sky high. Yupatov was pleased and giving Shura bonuses of golden coins on top of his salary. It seemed like a happy life had finally come for Alexander Zass. The newfound happiness however short-lived however. One silent August night, a fire broke out from all the four corners of the circus menagerie. They said that rivals could have been involved in it. Whether that was true or not no one has ever figured out. Damage from the fire was catastrophic. Most of the animals died and the entire property badly burnt. There was no money left to pay to the performers and the troupe

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collapsed. Durov went to St. Petersburg, the horsemen-dzhigits went to the Caucasus, and Schura went with a group of fighters to Central Asia.

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BLACK MASK A small group of men wandered the roads of Southern Siberia. Seven bankrupt wrestlers managed to start making a living from their performances. Worst case scenario, they would perform on the side of the street. In the best cases, they could build an arena in a designated district of the town. Many villagers would eagerly come to watch the strongmen fight but few were eager to open their wallets and pay. Such a life eventually made the fighters emaciated and weak. They were looking ridiculous and pathetic when they finally arrived in Ashgabat. They immediately started looking for circus posters around the city. Finally, they stumbled upon a poster for Hoytsev Circus on a round pedestal at the market. The main performance was a fight challenging the audience. Awards were to be given to the winners, if there were any. Sergei Nikolaevsky, thinking like a hunter saw this circus as his prey and started taking command. Sergei decided that he and Zass would challenge Hoytsev’s fighters. The other five fighters would have to scrub up and look good. They were to bathe, clean their clothes, shave their faces and get into the first row of the parterre. If the circus owner tried to make a deceptive move, then the five of them in the parterre would have to act with the deepest indignation and appeal to the public. This would force Hoytseva to play fair. “If your indignation does not get him to play fair, then you should try to inflict maximum damage to Hoytsev’s circus. Start breaking a couple of benches or even bring down the bigtop,” said Sergei. He knew circus audiences well. Considering the short-tempered nature of the local audience, Sergei was convinced that inciting the mob to destroy the circus of a rogue director would not be difficult. This destruction of the circus was not simply a revenge for being scammed, but an opportunity to set the stage for Nikolaevsky and his team of fighters. They would be able to set up their own performance without fear of the competition. Additionally, they could use the interest of the local population since Hoytsev had already managed to instill in everyone there a passion for watching the fights. The seven broad-shouldered, hungry and “ready for anything” guys made their way toward the circus. After the parade of fighters, the referee turned to the audience and announced "My dear audience, every strong man may now test their luck against our strongmen. Any winner will receive a prize!" Nikolaevsky and Zass rose from their seats and marched into the arena. Sergei announced in a loud bassy voice...

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“My friend and I accept the challenge. We are ready to fight any one of your wrestlers.” A restrained snicker ran through the audience. They were a very comical couple, the giant Nikolaevsky and a small, frail-looking Zass. The arbitrator, defining the mood of the audience, decided to turn this challenge into a playful performance. “Isn’t your friend afraid of being crushed by one of our giants?” he asked Nikolaevsky. “Nope” replied Sergei briefly. “...but with a man of his height and weight, it will be nothing but a game of cat and mouse,” continued the referee. “Which cat do you prefer?” he asked Shura, making a hand gesture towards his fighters. The circus roared. "Come on, little fellow, do not be afraid, they’re not going to eat you. Even if they do eat you, what difference does it make?" Shura heard stinging, derisive shouts coming from every direction. “It makes no difference to me” said Shura to the referee calmly. This calmness apparently alerted the judge. “Please, be so kind as to tell us your names” he asked Nikolaevsky and Zass. “We shall fight incognito as Mr. X and Mr. Y” The circus was completely still. For some reason, the referee was suddenly in a good mood. “You are obviously well-known fighters from a nearby village of some kind” he said loudly. “...and of course, you would be ashamed to lose under your real names” The audience began to laugh again and it angered Sergei. “Well, are we going to fight or just stand here flapping our gums?” Sergei's giant voice didn’t promise anything else. The referee began to make a fuss. “Yes, of course. Let us begin. Here is your opponent” said the referee to Shura, leading him over to a huge fat fellow. The opponent was about 50 kilograms heavier than Shura (after the fight, he found out that the difference in weight was actually 48 kilograms). Shura's only hope for success lay in the thick layer of fat which draped over his opponent’s muscles. Shura decided to wear down this obese guy. First he would get him wheezing for air, and then he would drop him to the mat. The game of cat and mouse had begun. Shura was running across the mat, diving between the legs of the giant, pouncing on him and then letting him go. With all his attempts he tried to avoid getting caught in the wrestler’s arms. He was forcing him to make as many unnecessary movements as possible. When he saw the big fat man starting to get tired, the boy began his attack. www.IronSamson.com

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Shura grabbed his opponent and tried to throw him over his thigh. However, his grip was easily escaped by the giant. It was only then when Shura noticed that the fighter’s body was greased in oil. In addition to that, he was not as tired as Zass had thought he was. Successfully repelling the attack, the fat fighter rushed to the counter and almost caught Shura in full nelson. Zass's amazing agility was the only thing that saved him. The battle continued. Shura tried to throw his opponent on the mat 4 times and failed every single time. However, at this point, the giant was actually getting very, very tired. His obese heart did not have enough time to drive a sufficient amount of blood into his lungs. He was gasping for air. Suddenly Shura caught him on the hip and the fat man fell to the mat with an incredible force. "Shoulder blades pinned" recorded the arbitrator. The audience who had originally refused to believe in Shura was now applauding him. The director of the arena was counting his money. It was now Nikolaevsky’s turn. However, the owner of Circus Hoytsev had suddenly appeared in the arena. This short, skinny, bandy-legged man usually avoided being seen in public, however this was an exceptional case. This big loss was a threat to his circus. Nikolaevsky calmly shook Hoytsev’s hand and Shura winked at his comrades who were sitting in the front row. "Be ready for anything now!". After shaking hands with Sergei as the guest of honor, he congratulated Shura on his victory. He then turned to the audience and said... “ My dear audience, you just saw a landslide victory by Mr. X and now you will observe a performance of even more exciting proportions. Our best fighter, all the way from Hungary, the champion of Europe and America, Chai Janos, will fight the mysterious gentleman Mr. Y with belts. Do you accept the challenge Mr. Y?” Sergei nodded in agreement. The belts were brought. They were heavy leather belts bound in brass with loops. With the help of the assistants, the fighters put on the harnesses. Standing facing toward one another, the fighters dug into the loops and each tried to throw their opponent off the mat. The two giants stood still in strained positions. The circus was first cheering for the Hungarian, then Sergei. Suddenly, there was a crash and the loops came off the Nikolaevsky’s belt. Once again, Hoytsev reappeared at the arena. “Dear audience” he shouted. “Our giant Mr. Y is so heavy and powerful that the belt could not sustain. Come back tomorrow and watch this exciting fight take place once again. We will strengthen the belt with the strongest loops we can find”

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The circus was booing with displeasure. Sergei leaned to Hoytsev and whispered, "The loops on my belt were cut. Give me a hundred rubles right now, or I will have the public destroy your circus." “Alright” Hoytsev said briefly. Then Sergei raised his hand in order to silence the audience. “Ladies and gentlemen! Everyone who comes tomorrow will not regret it. Not only he will get to see see an interesting fight, but many new bonuses in order to make up for this embarrassing incident” Nikolaevskys’ words were met with applause. Hoytsev just smiled gratefully and took Sergei backstage. “Let’s stop playing stupid,” said Hoytsev when they were alone with Sergei. “You're a circus wrestler, aren't you?” “Yes.” “Your friend, too?” “Yes.” “Are there only two of you?” “No.” “How many of you are there?” “It does not matter” “What are you doing here?” “Earning for a living.” “Why did you not just come to me right away? We would have figured something out.” “Simply because we do not have the slightest desire to negotiate with you. Either you accept our terms or we will ruin your circus. Everyday my boys and I will be pinning your wrestlers to the mat by their shoulder blades. We will continue and continue until you go bankrupt by giving away all your money in awards.” “Is this an ultimatum?” “Your words are too big for such trifles” Sergei smiled. “It is just the law of survival. Either you gnaw on everyone, or you lie in the mud". “What do you want?” “Now that's a man talking, boss!” He then laid out his terms to Hoytsev. All seven of the former fighters of Yupatov’s circus would enter Hoytsev’s troupe. The salary and the number of performances would be the same as they were at Yupatov’s. Hoytsev had no choice but to agree. Now with Yupatov’s seven fighters on board, the Hoytsev Circus became much more wrestling oriented. This was a good thing since wrestling was becoming quite

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popular. At the same time however, it was a bad thing since all the other genres paled in comparison to the strong fighter’s troupe. Different innovations had to be invented in order to maintain the high admission fees. One time it was announced that the owner of the circus would pay 50 rubles to anyone who could knock down the lightest (64 kg) champion Alexander Zass with one punch to the stomach. Many people rushed to the circus but no one managed to get the desired award. Hoytsev repeated the trick with trimmed loops on wrestling belts a couple more times. This allowed him to stretch the fight into a two day event. It was very rare that one who saw the beginning of the battle did not come back the next day to see its end. Despite all the tricks and gimmicks, admissions continued to plummet. The city Aktyubinsk was especially bad. The circus had moved there from Ashgabat. This was when Sergei Nikolaevsky got the idea for the "Black Mask". “It is necessary to enact a sensation” Sergei told his comrades on one particularly bad night. “We need to challenge some mysterious stranger. It would look best if he had a black mask on. An unknown wrestler under a black mask...that sounds good! Then the rumor would give him a lot of different names. We could offer a “secret”, like...that he is a nobleman, or even better, a prince incognito. This rumor will spread quickly as is usually the case with such secrets. Then the people would rush out to see this mysterious prince...” Shura very much liked this idea. He strongly urged everyone else to go along with this idea because he believed it would bring success. Shura’s ardor cooled down however when it was he who was chosen to wear the mysterious “Black Mask”. He had no choice in the matter. The distribution of roles was already agreed upon. Alexander did not want to perform under this joker’s mask. He tried to appeal to the possibility of failure. Nikolaevsky was relentless. Zass would perform under the black mask and win his first fight. "Well, okay” thought Shura. “Oh, I'll remember this". Without wasting any further time, he began preparing for the show. Shura got a coat, a top-hat and two traveling bags. He took a train and traveled two stations from Aktyubinsk. There he wrote a telegram to Hoytsev. "I’m coming on Wednesday and daring all fighters challenge me.. The Black Mask." This telegram was placed at the door of the circus. Hoytsev ordered to print special posters that would be pasted up all around the city. Hundreds of mouths quickly spread the rumor. Meanwhile, Shura had been living in an unknown place. The day of his debut finally came. It was Wednesday. He put on his coat, top hat, tied a black scarf around his face and took off for the train. He looked extremely comical. The pants of his suit were www.IronSamson.com

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very long and narrow. The coat itself was too broad and long. The top-hat was too big and slid down onto his ears. Cursing his clownish role (and the whole world for that matter), Shura walked to the train accompanied by a large crowd. Our hero made it to Aktyubinskur without any problems. The city looked forward to seeing the "Black Mask." His appearance brought excitement to the monotonous life of the provincial folk. A deputation of city officials including the orchestra arrived at the train station in order to meet the unknown graft. Accompanied by the enthusiastic shouts of the crowd and the thunder of the orchestra, our mysterious "stranger" appeared on the platform. The entire procession started moving towards the circus. Heading this “cortege” was the orchestra with its shiny copper pipes. Our hero was followed by the orchestra. The crowd of officials in full uniform and braids was thronging after him at a respectful distance. Ordinary people were at the end of the procession. The porter was struggling to carry the two bags brought by the mysterious "Black Mask". How surprised he would be to find out that these suitcases were filled with regular stones in order to give weight to their owner in the eyes of the society and innkeeper. At the circus, the "Black Mask" was greeted by a parade of fighters led by the owner of the troupe. Shura was trying to give a speech but no one could hear any of his words over the noisy cries of the crowd. When the noise died down, he personally challenged all the fighters. This caused uncontrollable laughter from his comrades. Although Nikolaevsky had not predicted such a reaction, it turned out to be beneficial. It provoked the audience to murmur in disapproval which was good when one considers that the laughter of champions was not sportsman-like. The effect of the “Black Mask” appearance surpassed even the expectations of the other circus performers. Barely stopping to laugh, Sergei Nikolaevsky came forward on behalf of the company and accepted the challenge. He then added that the "Black Mask" could choose any opponent at his own discretion. Alexander decided seek just a little bit of revenge for the Sergei’s ploy. He announced that he would fight Sergei Nikolaevsky himself. This was in direct violation of the agreement. Zass was supposed to fight one of those whom he could probably defeat. Now Nikolaevsky would be forced to sacrifice his prestige or abandon the idea of the “Black Mask” altogether. Sergei was enraged yet silent. The crowd whistled and shouted "Coward!". Nikolaevsky was forced to give in and finally mumbled "I agree". The meeting was scheduled for that evening. In the meantime, a smorgasbord awaited Zass at one of the finest hotels in the city. If this fight were for real, Shura would have never allowed himself to eat and drink so much. However, knowing the www.IronSamson.com

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outcome of the fight in advance, he himself later recalled..."I did not refuse myself one morsel of food." Zass was confident until he saw how large crowd around the circus was. “What if our cover was blown?” This thought sent chills down his spine. Cold sweat covered his forehead but there was nowhere to retreat. The circus performance continued as usual yet the audience was bored. Everyone was waiting for a decisive fight between the champion of Hoytsev’s troupe and the bold "graft". The battle began with an investigation. They circled for a long time, looking for each other’s weak spots. Nikolaevsky was a bit distracted. He was not acting the way he normally would with an opponent. Shura managed to grab him and throw him on the mat with all his might. He then quickly made a double nelson and began to put pressure on Sergei’s head, trying to bend his neck. Surprised by the move, Nikolaevsky tried unsuccessfully to free himself. Shura then weakened his grip a little bit and gave Sergei the opportunity to jump on his feet. Zass managed to do a couple of grapples and throws. Sergei was getting angry. “It's time for me to put you down little fellow” whispered Nikolaevsky when their heads were quite close and they could speak without being heard. “I was just thinking the same thing about you” said Shura. “What's got into you?” Sergei gasped, trying to press the bridge of his opponent. Zass did not answer. He successfully got away and hurried to attack Sergei once again. The fight took a violent turn. There were two world-class athletes competing in the arena. Hoytsev was trying to say something to both of the athletes but it was useless. They were caught in the excitement of the fight. Shura did not expect to put Sergei down. He was stronger and more experienced. He only wanted to "torment" him a little in order to get him back for forcing him to play this stupid role. However, in the heat of battle he had forgotten about that, just like Sergei had forgotten about the need to “go down” at the appropriate time. 10 minutes had passed. Neither of the opponents was winning. The referee stopped the fight and declared that under the terms of the agreement the wrestler in the black mask gets the money because he held out 10 minutes against the champion of the Hoytsev’s circus. The circus was raging. Zass was carried around the arena twice on the hands of the audience and the entire time he was thinking ”Will there be enough money from Hoytsev to pay the mortgage, or not?” Of course, the money wasn’t for Shura. It would all be returned to the troupe. However, if there wasn't any money at the cashier’s then the audience would destroy the circus...

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Fortunately, there was enough money. The owner of the hotel had prepared a feast for the winner that would last until morning. The feast was held at the house. A heavily drunk Nikolaevsky whispered in Shura’s ear..."This is our entire life. If you lie, people will believe you. If you do not lie, then they will not believe you. Then suddenly, you make up a bogus fight and it turns out to be a real battle...I do not understand the circus."

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THE REAL WORK Zass never once performed in the arena when the circus was in Aktyubinsk. That way no one would realize that the "Black Mask" was a professional circus wrestler. Hoytsev removed him from all the performances as well. The circus now had the luxury being able to harbor idle performers. The public that had taken interest in the mysterious stranger suddenly found the usual fights without masks and other mysterious attributes to be fascinating spectacles. Full admission was charged. Hoytsev was very pleased and drove Shura away from the arena and sent him to train instead. Alexander began training hard. The nomadic life he had experienced after bankruptcy from Yupatov’s circus had scheduled victories at Hoytsev’s circus. All this had had a great impact on his athletic form. His biceps were hard and stiff, his abdominal muscles weak, and he now had a hunch in his back. In short, it was time for some serious training if Alexander did not want to turn into a circus ballast. Contemplating his fate, Shura found himself thinking about Sergei Nikolaevsky. He was obviously not in the best shape of his life either. A year ago, Zass could not even dream about fighting Sergei, and now they were evenly matched. Shura shared these thoughts with his friend, Nikolaevksy. Sergei sighed bitterly and wafted his hand through the air. "You're right, kid. I'm always out of breath these days. One cannot fight like this. You are a different case. It doesn't matter whether you have eaten or slept...youth prevails. You will still get stronger and more experienced. Give it time brother. You hold on, don’t give up. If you want, I can talk to Hoytsev and see if he could let you do your own performance of strength? This wrestling thing is gonna kill you emotionally." Hoytsev did not approve Sergei’s ideas. He was Nikolaevsky's senior by just as many years as Nikolaevsky was Zass's senior. He was much more experienced in the circus business. “If we had more shows to match Zass’s performance” he told to Sergei, “...like riders, acrobats, and tamers...then I would consider it. Only then would his performance look amazing. Just one performance of strength is boring. People will not pay money to see it. Do you know why? ...because there are a lot of strong people in the Russian Empire. If you want to convince the audience that Zass can really do extraordinary things without cheating, you first have to dumbfound the audience with something special. We have to make it look so unbelievable that afterwards everyone would be forced to believe that nothing is impossible at the circus. Then you can unleash the strongman into the arena and we will have a full house. What do we have? ...nothing but www.IronSamson.com

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one and a half feeble clowns and a few shabbily trained dogs. You want to let the starveling Zass, who looks frail and barely reaches your shoulder into the arena? We announce his weight to the audience. He's nothing but a 67 kilo scallywag in their eyes. Then this scallywag suddenly starts breaking chains! What will an ordinary person who is not used to miracles think? After our clowns and dogs, he will regret paying for the ticket. After seeing little Zass, he will be confident that someone is trying to fool him here...that everything in the circus is solid scam. We will fail with your friend Zass...I'm sorry.” “Well, what about the fight,” said Sergei, patiently waiting to hear the explanation of the owner. “Oh, the fight, that's something else altogether! Huge giants appear on the arena. The tradesman is feeling his biceps and laments. You start messing around with each other like bears in front of his eyes. The viewer is first of all interested in what is that you can do with those huge arms of yours. He is also hoping that you might seriously damage each other or break some bones. People will be talking about it for a week. Secondly...” Hoytsev bent his index finger and pointed it at Sergei. “After looking at you, every pimply little schoolboy starts feeling his own power. 'If I wanted them to...' he thinks to himself '...they would start breaking each other’s noses....and if I didn’t want them to, then I will simply not go to the circus. Then I would tell all my buddies not to go either, and theses herculean men would starve.' Of course, not everyone thinks this way, but they do all think to themselves... 'I am sitting in a chair, and you, even though you are stronger than me, you are crawling on the carpet in front of me'. The audience should be elevated rather than degraded. If we let Zass into the arena, we will humiliate the audience with his feebleness.” So concluded Hoytsev his cunning speech. Sergei stood his ground nonetheless. “Fattening Zass up is a simple enough trick” he argued. A month off and special exercises so his muscles would grow. The kid will be looking his best. Once again, Shura has the 'balancing samovar' trick in stock. Yupatov did not consider this trick worthy of his circus, but it will do just fine here...” Not wanting to start a fight with Sergei, Hoytsev reluctantly agreed to let Shura perform. Moreover, he reasoned that it was useless to let Zass fight in the arena now since people would recognize him. Currently, Alexander’s day began with a three-kilometer run. Then he moved on to training with iron bars. He would bend them on his knee, tie them in a knot, and curl them in spirals. He had learned to break chains in two movements. He would take two neighboring links and grit them with his fingers. Then he would twist them back and forth to the bitter end until the circuit finally broke.

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He spent a lot of time developing his thoracic and lumbar muscles. He would place a platform loaded with stones on his chest. He would then inhale deeply several times. As he exhaled, he bent himself into a “bridge”. The morning session ended with a series of sack exercises. This sack was like a cushion filled with sawdust. The sack weighed 7 kilograms. Every day Shura took out a handful of sawdust, and added a handful of sand. When all the sawdust had been replaced with sand, he began to pour the sand out, and fill the sack with lead shots. In the end, he was training with a bag filled with lead balls that weighed 70 kilograms. Recalling these workouts, Samson later wrote that large biceps are as much a measurement of strength as a big belly is of good digestion. The exercises with the sack, however, helped him to gain a lot of muscle mass. This mass was not very important for the performance itself, but he gained it in order to look good for the public. According to the opinion of the circus owners, the fighter could be "sold" to the audience only when his muscles made a menacing impression. Of course, Samson has never denied the role of the muscles. He never thought that dynamic exercises with a sack or other weights were useless. On the contrary, he emphasized the importance of such exercises at every stage in his career. His number one priority though, was always the development of the tendons. These were "rope-like" flexible formations that helped attach the muscles to the bones. "Some people with thin legs are stronger than those with thick legs” wrote Samson 20 years later, explaining the point of his system. “Why? ...because strength lies in the tendons and in the tissues of invisible matter that yield in density only bone. Without tendons we would turn into jelly. Tendons must be trained. In my experience, a man of large composition is not necessarily strong, just as a man of modest composition is not always weak.” “I do not believe in big muscles if there is no real strength in the tendons. You can see many physical culture enthusiasts who have very large muscles. However, what is the point in having these muscles if there is no rudimentary strength in the tendons. They can not fully use the strength of their muscles during the moments that truly test their strength. This is why their strength is sheer illusion.” “One gets the best increase in tendon strength when their power is applied to a motionless object. They become stronger from the resistance, and not from the movement." This is how Samson defined the basic principles of his exercises. It was a combination of both isometric, fixed exercises along with dynamic exercises (which require muscle contraction and work with the "weights"). We are, however, getting 20 years ahead of ourselves. At this point in the story, Shura was taking a rest after his morning workout. www.IronSamson.com

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His second workout of the day took place in the evening. During these sessions, he continued to master his balance and practiced riding horses and vaulting. The "balancing samovar" trick was now completely mastered. For developing the strength of jaws, Shura would lift a steel beam off the ground and carry it for two meters. He prepared another sensational event called “stretching with two horses." This stunt was really interesting and quite dangerous. Holding onto the harnesses of two horses, Zass stood on a wooden platform. The horsemen began lapping the horses with whips sending them off in opposite directions. They were eager to set off in a full gallop. The assistants fled while the battle between the horses and Shura began. It seemed as though the enraged horses would tear the tiny man (who was confining them from the run) into pieces. Not a chance! Alexander Zass, the future “Iron Samson” stood his ground firmly. The horses would eventually yield to his will and calm down. At the time, Alexander was also contemplating a cannon that would shoot a man. "It would be nice to make a trick where a human came flying from cannon like a human-cannonball. A cannon is brought into the arena and the crowd is silent in anticipation. Then suddenly...Baam! A person flies out. I catch him in the arena" Shura described to Sergei Nikolaevsky. Unfortunately, there was not enough money for such an expensive prop. Therefore, he had to perform his old trick of catching a stone (hewn like a cannonball) catapulted from a springboard. After a month of intense training, Hoytsev had gotten himself an extremely powerful and artistic circus strongman. The entire troupe gathered to rehearse for Shura’s show. Zass had surpassed himself. He tore apart chains with his hands and chest. He bent unimaginable designs from iron rods and threw an iron rail a distance of half a meter with his teeth. He could lie on a bed of nails while holding a stone on his chest and hold a samovar filled with boiling water and coils on his forehead. When Hoytsev saw the trick where he held back horses, he could not help but applaud. Hoytsev insisted that Alexander finish up the show by driving a nail into a wooden board with a single punch. The owner had seen this trick done once as a young man and definitely wanted to include it in Zass's performance. "It's quite easy,” he told Shura. If you have developed the muscles so much that even nails won't penetrate your back, then driving a nail into a board with your fist will be child's play." Alexander did not like it when someone meddled with his plans but he decided to knuckle under this time. The posters would soon be ready. They all agreed to debut in Orenburg. They felt a triumph awaited Zass there. Contrary to Hoytsev fears, many people came to the circus. It was an amazing site for people to watch a strongman who could do so many incredible things. Shura www.IronSamson.com

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performed twice a day and practiced in the morning. The schedule was brutally exhausting him but he was nevertheless happy. After staying for a while in Orenburg, Hoytsev’s troupe decided to pack up and tour other Russian cities. The circus was a success everywhere it went. Zass's fame was running, as Hoytsev used to say, ahead of the locomotive. The only thing that upset Shura was when his old fighter friends Chai Janos, Serdyuk and Sergei Nikolaevsky left the troupe. "You don’t need us anymore,” said Sergei as he was leaving. He patted Shura on the shoulder with vivid exaggeration. “You're the strongest one. Hold on kid, hold on to this work. Perhaps we will see each other again." They tried to mask the sadness of leaving with jokes and headed on their way. Shura was attracted by new destinations now. One day they arrived in the city of Saransk. Hoytsev pitched the bigtop on the exact same ground where Shura had seen his very first circus performance ever. Childhood memories relived themselves right in front of his eyes...Vanya Pood, Kuchkin and the magic of the first show. He had hoped to meet his father and old friends while he was there. As it turned out, the whole family actually showed up...Mother, Father, his brothers, his sisters, an even more emaciated Klim Ivanovitch and of course Uncle Grisha. They dismounted the carriage at the same time Hoytsev was putting up a farewell poster. "On Tuesday, September 3rd - A farewell tour for the famous athlete and unbeatable fighter Alexander Zass,” Klim Ivanovitch read aloud. “To demonstrate the wonderful strength and endurance of his muscles, Mr. Zass will thicken the chains and iron 2 fold.” “Today, Mr. Zass will hammer a nail into two wooden boards using only his powerful fist.” “He will tie a thick iron bar into a knot.” “He will break chains that can withstand 50 poods, with the strength of his chest muscles.” “Mr. Zass is offering a cash award and will give away all his tokens if the strength of 10 men working together is able to break his chain.” “This Tuesday (Today), Mr. Zass will break that very same chain with his fist.” “He will lift three people with a single arm.” “In conclusion, you will see the "The Devil's Blacksmith" or an amazing endurance of spinal muscles.” “Mr. Zass is asking everyone to examine his chains, hooks and iron before the show to eliminate all possibility of fraud.” His mother began to weep while she was listening to the pain that her son was about to endure. The rest of the family tried to comfort her. Grisha kept assuring her that he was a professional performer now. www.IronSamson.com

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Shura's entire family sat in the front row. He saw their intense, thoughtful faces. He heard his mother start crying when two burly guys started breaking a stone on his chest with a sledgehammer while he was lying on a bed of nails. He wanted to get up and comfort her, but that would be unbecoming “The Devil's Blacksmith”. Later on at the restaurant, Klim Ivanovitch kept asking him about the training. Father was focused on drinking vodka. He would often clink glasses with Uncle Grisha. Mother was patting Shura on the hand and trying to persuade her son to come home..."Come with us to the village Shura. Let's just go for week!" He did not go home. He was afraid of abandoning his training. Later in life he would live to regret not taking the invitation. One day, while he was touring with the circus, a notification came in the mail demanding that he serve in the military. Zass was forced into traveling to Vilinus, the town of his birth. There, he was shaven and sent off to the Persian frontier at the 12th Regiment of Turkestan. Shura missed the circus enormously while he was in the military. If it wasn’t for the horse stable he would have probably run away. "Run away and have gotten under the tribunal for desertion," he thought to himself later on when Turkestan regiments were loaded into wagons and taken to the west. Yes, World War I was waiting for Alexander in the West.

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BLUE SKY BEHIND THE BARS “Who would like to serve in the Vindavsky Cavalry Regiment? Who is not afraid of daring raids behind enemy lines? May the brave take two steps forward!” shouted the lieutenant. The formation stood still. Several volunteers stepped forward. Among them was Alexander Zass. Shura was fed up of trench life. It was worse than the pea porridge the a quartermaster was feeding the soldiers. When the opportunity came to get out of this crummy life and get into the cavalry to boot, Shura happily took two steps forward. The Vindavsky Regiment was a special unit. It was thrown into the “darkest” areas of the Austrian front...places where no one knew what forces the enemy was hiding. Sometimes the Vindavsky regiment went several dozens of kilometers behind enemy lines and destroyed the second echelons. Sometimes fatal buckshot would meet them at the forward positions. Alexander enjoyed this desperate life. He also liked his buckskin stallion “Little Boy”. He was a brave, quick and mighty horse with a white star on his forehead. Once, they got hit by Austrian bullets. Little Boy fell and neighed piteously. The trenches were close but difficult to reach. Shura was lying next to the horse in the neutral zone. He didn't know what else to do. His comrades rode past and hid them in a nearby birch grove. What was Zass to do? Should he leave the horse and crawl back into the trenches? No...he valued the horse too much. Little Boy was looking Shura directly in the eyes as if to say “Do not leave me here to die”. However, if Shura were to stay, he would also die... Nevertheless, Alexander stayed with his horse. Pretending to be dead, he waited for the night. He then hoisted Little Boy onto his shoulders and carried him back to the trench. The soldiers on duty threw their guns to the ground and began to furiously cross themselves as they watched a man with a horse on his shoulders stepping out of the darkness. Shura took good care of Little Boy. The horse was no longer suitable for combat, but served good in the harness of the health brigade. Zass received a new horse...a chestnut named “Buran”. Many weeks later, officers went to the second squadron of Vindavsky regiment in order to take a look at the soldier that had carried a wounded horse from the battlefield. Legends of Alexander Zass's strength and courage were spreading through the trenches a long time after that.

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This glory, however, did not save Shura from the fougasse (landmine) that exploded next to him during one of the battles. Buran fell down on the ground while his master (Shura) was lying in the dirt with searing pain in his legs. He woke up in a dark unfamiliar room. His throat was hurting. "Dri-i-ink" uttered Shura in a weak voice. Then a one-armed man in a gray hospital gown leaned on his shoulder and held a tin mug in front of his lips. “Where am I?” asked Shura, making a few hard swallows. “In captivity...in the hospital” the one-armed man replied. Without going into details he added “Someone will be along to amputate your legs soon” “What?! Amputate?” Alexander jerked and moaned from the piercing, burning pain. “Yes, Amputation. We don't waste time healing people. We just cut off their limbs and throw them in the basket,” said one-armed, pointing at his empty sleeve. At this moment, the medics arrived, put Shura on a stretcher and carried him away. "No, You cannot! You cannot cut off my legs! I am no one without my legs!" struggled Shura to say. He was frantically trying to remember German words so he could beg the doctor to save his legs. "Ich bin" (I am). That's about as far as it went...The rest he said in Russian. "Ich bin tsirkovoi artist" (I am a circus performer). Composing this strange phrase in his head, he was carefully repeating it over and over so he could say it to the german doctor at the operating table. The surgeon did not pay any attention to the muffled rattle emanating from the throat of the wounded Zass. The surgeon was extremely tired and did not want to play guessing games with Shura's nonsensical sentence. It was his 21st operation that day. The doctor however was frozen in his tracks as soon as he lifted the sheets off of Zass's legs. An ancient demigod with well-developed muscles in beautiful proportions lay in front of him. It seemed as though this Russian soldier was a painting come to life. “It would be a tragedy to amputate such legs,” said the surgeon to the nurse. “We will try to save them.” Shura started drifting off and woke up later in the same ward. The one-armed man was sitting at the head of his bed. “You are lucky my friend,” he said, seeing that Shura had opened his eyes. “They spared your legs” Recovery was going slowly. Schura would sit and stare at the barred window for hours. Beyond the window, the rain gave way to sunshine just before the sky was once again consumed by rain. The chestnuts were no longer in bloom and the hospital park was now a playground for the cold winds. The sky had turned into an icy blue transparency. www.IronSamson.com

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Summer was ending and Shura was learning how to use his cut up legs “quite decently” as the one-armed man put it. Another neighbor said that it would be better not to rush his recovery, since the Austrians would just send him to the prison camp. Alexander watched his bed neighbor closely. His name was Stepan Kolesnikov. Every day Shura would find a new previously inconspicuous feature of his character. First he pretended to be a sort of simpleton. Then he would suddenly start asking Shura questions that were clear and precise. One day Zass accused Stepan of being extremely peculiar and their conversations stopped for awhile after that. However, three days later, Stepan started a new conversation with Shura, as if nothing had happened. "Look how hard Johann tries” he said, pointing to the orderly who was carefully polishing his boots. “I bet he's going to his sweetheart" said Shura looking down at the Johan and laughing. It was very hard to imagine this small guy, with a perpetual runny nose and glasses playing the role of a boyfriend. Then they both sat quietly for a while until Stepan suddenly exclaimed "Cleaning and polishing, cleaning and polishing, and then tomorrow 'please come into the trench sir'. Missiles will fly and suddenly...BOOM! No more Johann...just a puddle. By the way Alexander, what were you arguing about with Johann?" It was as though he was just a lunatic thinking out loud. Shura was surprised. He hadn't been arguing with Johann. He didn’t even have a reason to argue with him. "Why the hell would I need to argue with this pathetic four eyes whom I met for the first time yesterday?” Stepan seemed to be satisfied by the answer. He put his arm around Shura’s shoulders and said in a trustworthy voice... “Then tell me, my friend, why do people like you and me have to shoot missiles at people like Johann? Why do people like Johann have to shoot missiles at people like you and me? Who stands to benefit from all this?” Shura would often recall this conversation later on in life. That evening, however, he couldn't come up with an answer to Stepan's question. The next morning, at the break of dawn, two soldiers and an officer came into the room and took his neighbor Stepan away. It was the first time Shura had heard the word "Bolshevik." He got to know the meaning of the word much later. He bitterly regretted not having a frank conversation with Stepan Kolesnikov. Who knows? Maybe Shura’s difficult fate would have turned out differently if he had gotten to talk to this one-armed soldier. Without Stepan, life in the bed was really boring. In a frenzy, Alexander began training his mutilated legs. He didn’t care if he went to a prison camp. He just wanted to get far away from this hateful room. Pretty soon, he was able to move without crutches. The surgeon did rush his dismissal however. Apparently he wanted to observe Shura's rare body composition more closely. www.IronSamson.com

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That’s how Shura first went to work in the hospital kitchen. Afterward he started working on the construction of a road in a neighboring town. The road was built by wounded and recovering soldiers under the supervision of the Austrian convoy. Once Shura saw a very skinny and unshaven man in a gray hospital gown accompanied by the patrol. They were headed toward the hospital. “Escape! They’re going to shoot him now,” said an old soldier working next to Shura with a bandaged throat. “Escape? Is that possible? Shura’s heart began to palpitate. It seemed as if it was beating to the rhythm of the word “es-cape, es-cape, es-cape”. Escape would be easy. The hospital was poorly guarded. Although, how would one get to his comrades? The entire countryside was filled with enemy troupes. He needed clothes, a map and most of all food. Little by little, Shura started saving food. He hid pieces of bread in the mattress. He saved some fatback from his lunch in a tin by the garden. All was going well until Shura was caught trying to steal an austrian map from one of the offices. His quarters were searched and the bread in the mattress was found. Although this was not evidence of an escape in and of itself, Alexander Zass was nonetheless sent from the hospital to a prison camp. Everything was different there. The camp was well guarded. The barracks were cordoned off with barbed wire. They were fed very poorly. Once again he began to plan an escape. This time Shura had a supporter, a comrade by the name of Ashaev. This mercurial and restless Tartar could not live behind barbed wire. He was ready to flee without any preparation at all. Shura's thoughts were a bit more sober. First of all, it was necessary to save some money. They could use the money to get a compass and some provisions...maybe even a map. Once Shura started a conversation with the guard Ian. He was a good-natured Czech, who could speak Russian rather well. The Czech happened to be a circus wrestler in the past and the two easily established rapport. The guard did not mind earning some money on prisoners who in their spare time were doing crafts like shoemaking and carpentry. It was profitable for the guards to sell these handicrafts in the nearby villages. Shura started doing some woodcarving. He made wooden spoons, cups, and buckets. The Czech would sell them on both the wholesale and retail markets. According to their agreement, one-third of all revenues went to Shura. This was how he managed to put aside some money for the escape. Now all he needed was a map or a compass.

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He told that to Ian. “What do you need a compass for?” He asked. “In order to know exactly which direction home is. Picture it...” Shura was playing with the guard's head. “I wake up in the morning, look at the arrow and I know where my country is. If a person knows exactly where his birthplace is, then it makes prison time easier”. Ian demand an outrageous price but brought him a toy compass couple of days later. The only feat which remained now was the barbed wire covered in loud bells. From a single touch of the fence, a furious ringing could be heard all around (at the time German experts have not yet figured out how to have an electric current of high voltage running through the barbed wire. That didn't come until 20 years later). There was only one way to avoid the wire and that was to dig. Although, how could one dig in front of the guard? Suddenly the commandant’s strange whim came to the rescue. Major Von Putlits was known for being obsessed with Anglo-Saxons. It was hard to imagine anything more absurd than this fat, red, Prussian major, doing his best to act like an English lord. Everyone from the prisoners to the superiors knew about the commandant’s weird pathology. They would all secretly laugh at the major but nothing more. It seemed that his love for everything British was just the whim of an aristocrat. The major had quite a few amusing ideas. He made a real English lawn in front of his quarters. Every morning he would ride his pure breed mare around the camp, dressed up in jockey breeches and jockey cap. He smoked an English pipe and expressed himself in an incomprehensible mixture of English and Prussian words. It seemed as though this was not enough for Von Putlits. He had also decided that all prisoners should be playing golf. If this idea had not been completely idiotic, it could have been interpreted as sophistication. Just imagine a group of exhausted, overworked, ill-fed, poorly dressed prisoners hitting balls with sticks in order to please the commandant. So be it. Golf it was. Beggars can't be choosers and choice is limited when you're behind bars. The prisoners clenched their teeth and played with hatred in their guts. They kept on playing lest they be sent to solitary confinement. Alexander decided to use the commandant’s whim to his own advantage. With a shovel in hand, he dug out the ground underneath the barbed wire for two nights in a row. The guards were convinced that he was digging holes for the golf show. In reality, he was looking for soft ground free from rocks and tree roots.

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Finally, the place of the future tunneling had been identified. On a moonless and silent night Schura and Ashaev went out of their hut and began to dig a hole. They worked for about four hours. They were just about to complete their escape route, when out of nowhere, they heard the glottal roll call of the patrols. The fugitives hid themselves as deeply as possible in the ground so as not to be seen. They were saved by the darkness of the night. The patrol walked around a bit and left. Shura continued to work with Ashaev. They came out the other side of the barbed wire fence tired and exhausted. There was still about ten kilometers between them and the cover of the forest...and the dawn of the morning sky was already shifting from black to gray. They had to run for it. Getting these two emaciated men to run a marathon was anything but easy. Ashaev fell down and Schura (being extremely tired himself) picked him up and dragged him along. They had to get to the forest before dawn or else one of the guards would see them. They fell as soon as they got past the first trees. They were so exhausted that no power on earth could force them to get up and move forward. The sun rose, flooding the world with its pitiless light. They fell asleep right where they lay. When they woke up they saw the sun at its zenith. There was no pursuit. The fugitives got up and plunged themselves into the forest with their thirsty tongues stuck to their throats. There were however no streams or puddles to be found along the way. They chewed on some green moss but that just made them want to drink water more. They were arrested three days later when they came out of the woods and asked for some water at a small village house. The Field Gendarmerie Patrol came and gave the two fugitives a brutal beating with ramrods. He then tied them to the backs of horses and drove them to the nearest commandant where they were thrown into a cold basement. The way back to the camp lasted a few hours. In the camp they were beaten some more and thrown into the basement. When they woke up, they found out that everything they had just experienced was just a sample of the torture to come. The next day they were handcuffed and hung from the ceiling. They were beaten everyday for an entire week. Then Shura was taken out of the basement, loaded into the back of a cart and driven away. He never got to see Ashaev again after that. After leaving the basement at the camp, Shura was brought to an even worse basement at a local prison. He shared the basement with Slovak Ludwig. Ludwig was an artist. Both of them were given death threats...Shura for escaping from camp, and Ludwig for desertion. Naturally they both were contemplating escape.

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The occasion to escape turned up unexpectedly. With a broken pencil, Ludwig scrawled a portrait of the guard officer on the wall. A soldier, who carried the soup, saw this picture and threatened to put both of them in solitary confinement. The next day the cell was visited by the commander himself. He actually liked the portrait very much. “You will draw me a full-sized portrait” he said poking his finger into Ludwig’s chest and leaving the cell. “But I need a helper!”called Ludwig to him from behind. After that, they were taken out of their cell for two hours per day into one of the empty upper chambers. The guard officer came there to pose for half an hour, and then Shura and Ludwig were left alone. They had to do something. They saw to their individual duties as soon as the warden left. Ludwig worked on the portrait while Shura loosened the bars. Thank God the bars were thinner than those that he had bent during his training sessions. However, expanding the space between them enough for an adult male to climb through was not easy an easy task. Shura worked for four days. The task was complicated by the fact that after each "session", he had to put the bars back into their original place, otherwise it would have caught the eye of the guards. One day, in broad daylight Shura and Ludwig squeezed through the bars and jumped into a remote alley. The ways of the fugitives parted from there. Ludwig went to the side of the railway line and Shura went to the circus.

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THE STRONGEST MAN IN THE WORLD Yes, Zass went directly to the circus. He had seen a poster not far from the prison which was announcing the upcoming performance of Chai Janos “The Terrifying Hungarian”. That's what Janos was called since the time of Hoytsev (who judging by the poster had now became the owner of the circus). Shura hoped to find refuge and support at his circus. The porter was stern. He didn’t want to let this emaciated beggar see the owner under any circumstances. The dispute between him and Zass went on for hours when suddenly Chai Janos himself appeared in the doorway. The two old friends hugged each other firmly. Shura almost got choked to death by Janos’s bear paws. "I've gotten weak,” he thought to himself bitterly. This thought made him want to get back to performing in the arena even more. Shura and Janos took a walk into the office together. Chai Janos was generally a quiet and reserved fellow, yet he somehow bore the nickname "The Terrifying Hungarian”. It did not coincide with his calm and compassionate character. However, now Shura felt insecure when his friend was looking at him. Who knew what happened to Janos during all those years they hadn't seen each other. Alexander was getting more and more nervous with every second. Suddenly Janos said something that surprised Shura with its ordinariness. "Have you eaten? No? Wait a second ..." He called the porter and sent him to a nearby tavern to buy some food. The ice was broken. Although Janos was still silent, Shura realized that everything was going to be fine. He started speaking nervously and fast. He spoke about his wounded leg, about the prison, and about the escape with Ludwig. He didn’t tell him about the first unsuccessful attempt to escape. Janos listened quietly. Then he put his hand on Shura’s knee and said "I think you're hiding something, but we will probably still work together. I do not see any possibility of transporting you across the front. You’ll get caught. They will assume you are a spy and shoot you on sight. I want us to fully trust each other. " "Damn!" Shura was mentally amazed by the intuition of his old friend. He started revealing everything that he had left out of the story. He assumed that having escaped twice might scare Janos more than having escaped once, but the end of his sad story Janos just smiled and said "Ok, now we can eat". Shura was blissfully happy for three days. He was eating and sleeping. On the fourth day, Janos took him to the arena where he introduced Zass to the entire troupe of fighters. "Well, which one of them do you want to test your strength with?" he asked.

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Shura chose the tallest fighter. He was a Romanian and his name was Pashkovsky. He weighed nearly 130 kilograms. The fight continued for only three minutes and by the fourth minute Pashkovsky was already laying on the mat with a broken collarbone and a dislocated shoulder blade. Alexander was very upset by this outcome. He did not want to cripple this very tall and kind gentleman. However, the desire to show all his strength to Janos was stronger than his reason. Pashkovsky was taken away. Janos did not express his attitude to the fight in any way. He just said that he would include Shura in tomorrow's evening program. “Wrestle for a little while, but not as ardently. After that you can begin preparing for the strength performance. In my opinion, it would be the best shelter for you. It is unlikely that the gendarmes would seek an escaped convict in such crowded place like the circus arena.” It took considerable courage to take an escaped convict into the troupe during a time of war. Shura appreciated the kindness and courage of Janos who was trying his best to help an old friend. The fighters entered the arena accompanied by music. Chai Janos was in the head of the procession and Alexander Zass (being the smallest) was at the end. Then the referee came out to invite volunteers from the audience to wrestle with the athletes. Alexander got the absolute majority of opponents. Apparently, everyone was misled by his height and lean figure. Those who stood in the middle ranks had been really topnotch fighters in the past. Now they were included in order to advertise. Their big names and gorgeous muscles inspired the audience. Kid Zass fought all the competitors from the audience and was never defeated. Respected wrestlers fought with each other in order to demonstrate their strength and agility. The performance ended with a duel between the Chai Janos and Alexander Zass. As a rule of thumb they defeated each other in turn. The audience was pleased. The evening passed like this and in the morning Alexander was intensely preparing for his strength performance. First he was warming up and running, just like he did at Hoytsev’s circus. Then he moved on to rehearsing his stunts. He decided to start with the complex event of “stretching with two horses”. Nearly the entire troupe was preparing this performance. Alexander was not entirely confident of his strength though. Sometimes his injury would not hurt for a long time, but then suddenly the pain would come back. Thus he began with a simplified version of the horse routine. Twenty people from one side and twenty from the other were pulling a rope which Shura held in his hands. It was not very difficult. With horses however, everything is much harder since they pull the harness unevenly. Alexander altered the conditions of rehearsal. First one person, then two, then three men would www.IronSamson.com

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move from one end of the stretch to the other. Soon there were fifteen people straining every nerve trying to drag him to the left, while twenty-five people on the other side were trying to shift him to the right. In order to make things more difficult, they would jerk the rope instead of pulling on them smoothly and evenly. Alexander decided to perform “The Devil's Blacksmith" as his second show. It was not easy getting him to lie on a bed of nails after having been shot and blownup...not to mention the prison break and a huge gap in his trainings. In the beginning he purposely blunted the ends of the harrows and smeared his back with cotton oil. Then while fully tensing every muscle in his body, he would gently lie down on the protruding steel rods. He started bleeding in some places where his skin broke, but in general Alexander was satisfied. He was able to remain on the spikes for an entire minute. Day by day Shura was able to extend his time on the spikes. Then one day he finally asked one of the assistants to stand on his chest. The assistant agreed, but not without timidity. Shura withstood the pressure and the following day two assistants were standing on his chest. A month later, three huge men with hammers were smashing a stone that weighed half a tonne on his chest. Alexander Zass had fully regained his strength. These two events were not enough for the performance so he began to add more and more stunts. Shura lifted an iron beam weighing 220 kilograms with his teeth and carried it a distance of two meters. Such things he had done before. Now however, he flew up to the very dome of the circus with his foot in a special loop while the heavy beam was in his teeth. This stunt turned out to be spectacular. Though that was not enough for Alexander. He started to rehearse "The Cannon Salvo." This was not a new event. In fact, cannons had been used for all sorts of strongman stunts throughout many generations. Fifty years earlier, Henry Sternon (called the “Hercules from the North”) performed his own peculiar stunt with a cannon on his shoulder. He would delight the audience by aiming the cannon at them and shooting a blank. However, one day this stunt ended tragically. Someone had apparently loaded his cannon with a real missile instead of a blank. Several people were killed and Sternon himself was injured so badly that he could no longer perform. The penalty of 60000 francs completely ruined him and he died a doing pathetic labor. His fate however had not stopped others from using cannons in their act. John Holtum from Denmark (known by the stage name “King of the Cannons”) had been catching cannonballs weighing 8 kilograms (shot from a cannon) with his bare hands. After catching the cannonball he would throw it onto a large iron sheet causing a dramatic and thunderous crash.

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Shura decided to repeat the “catching of the cannonball” stunt . Although his cannonball would weigh 90 kilograms and fly a distance of 8 meters. "Cannon Salvo" required rather complicated props. He didn’t even want to think about catapulting a 90 kilogram cannonball a distance of 8 meters with a springboard. Alexander sat down and started drawing up the plans. He met with the blacksmiths and iron-casters. He wanted to invent a very powerful machine. Things weren't going very well. Sometimes the cannon would shoot the cannonball too far. Other times, the cannonball would fly directly upwards instead of following the given trajectory over the arena. Occasionally, the cannonball would never even leave the cannon. Unless they could obtain consistent and sustainable results, there would be no hope for success. Incidentally, these technical sessions of Alexander Zass would come to give him considerable advantages in the future. A few years later he would introduce the wrist dynamometer to the world of sports. It was initially used as a competitive device and then later on as a training device. While mastering the ballistics of the event, Shura was also preparing to catch the flying weight. One day Shura prepared a special chute for the arena. His assistant would roll a large 100 kilo cannonball down the chute. Accelerating more and more the cannonball flew out of the other end as though it was fired from a piece of real artillery. Shura was to catch this projectile. Rehearsals were tough through. One awkward movement would guarantee a dislocated shoulder as was the case one day with Shura. After two days of rest he was able to start training with the chute again. This might be a difficult feat but with a cannon it would be even more difficult. “What if you were to replace the cannonball with a man?.. 'Human-cannonballs, the one and only attraction' ...One could definitely shoot a man out of cannon but was catching him possible?...” Shura thought. There was no margin for error since even the slightest miscalculation could put you and your partner's life in jeopardy. Alexander proceeded doggedly toward his goals. When the cannon was brought to the circus, he was ready to take on his first shot. The rehearsal went rather well. Chai Janos told Zass that he could start preparing for the stunt where a human would be shot out of a cannon, fly through the entire arena and land in his arms. "We'll start by firing her from the cannon” said Janos pointing to a short slender girl. “Alexander, it's my pleasure to introduce you to our beautiful gymnast Betty". Shura was not accustomed to meeting women. Endless training, wrestling, and strength performances had not given him the gift of gab. This is why he preferred the company of men. He felt at home with their unrefined yet sincere conversions.

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It is difficult to say what touched his heart about Betty. Perhaps it was her helplessness and timidity. He suddenly wanted to save her from some invisible and insidious danger. Maybe it was all in her name. After all, their first conversation started with a name. “Where did you get that name from?” Shura asked this with emphasized casualness. “I am English” “How did you get here?” “Vicissitudes of fate, I suppose” “Are you afraid of working with me?” “A little...but I don't think I have any choice in the matter” “You know this is a very dangerous stunt. It might be better for you to refuse.” “I said that I haven't a choice. Why would you make such a suggestion?” Betty shrugged her shoulders. Alexander asked her questions directly, persistently and demanded clear answers. He decided to follow the wise rule of Chai Janos. You should know everything about the person you work with, especially when the work is dangerous. It was obvious that Betty was hiding a lot. It was in her body language and the nuances of her voice."I will go and tell the owner that Betty is not a good partner for this stunt," Shura told himself. However, Shura never went to Janos. Not that day and not the day after. Instead, he began rehearsals with Betty. This was the point where she entered his life… forever. Despite the fact that he got involved in rehearsing new events, Shura did not forget about the staple stunts such as tearing chains and bending iron bars. He carefully trained his fingers and tried to break the chain link in less than 30 seconds. As for the bars, he decided to make the stunt more difficult. Instead of just bending an iron rod, he wanted to turn it into an intricate pattern. This is how he did it. Alexander carefully determined the middle of the rod by balancing it on his forefinger. He then hung a handkerchief at that place, grabbed it (the handkerchief) with his teeth and while holding the ends of the rod with both hands, bent it into a 90 degree angle. After that he would call upon the help of his legs. He put the curved bar on the ground so that one half of it was in the vertical position and the other half was horizontal. He then put his right knee on the horizontal part of the rod while his left foot was placed inside the straight angle of the curve. The left knee was located approximately in the middle of the vertical half. Then, while leaning on his left knee with his left hand, Shura would "wrap" the steel rod around his left forearm. A similar system was applied after changing the position of his feet.

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Thus something resembling handles appears on each end of the bar. Holding on to them without any apparent effort, he twisted loops into the center of the rod. The thick iron had become a piece of ornamental decoration. Great hopes were pinned on Alexander driving nails into boards with his fist. This stunt had been performed by others, however many had been repeatedly caught in a scam. They had pre-drilled holes into the boards that were then cleverly plastered with a special putty. This enabled them of course to easily drive a nail into the wood. Shura decided that the audience should choose which boards and which nails he would be using. He decided to make honesty the basic principle of his performances. This affected not only his spiritual qualities, but also his personal experience. Too often Shura had seen what kind scandals would emerge when even the most artful scams were revealed. “If you want to perform with a good conscience, then you need to work hard,” Shura thought. First he drove nails wearing a protective glove. Eventually he used only his bare hand, yet even this was not enough for Shura. He would then turn the board (with the nails hammered into it) upside-down and gently tap the edges of the nails with a piece of wood few times. This would loosen the head of the nail from the other side. Then he would turn the board back around and drag the nails out of the board with his fingertips by clutching the head of the nail. One time a nail got stuck in a knot and bent during one of his performances. Thinking quickly, Shura decided to straighten the nail with his fingers. Another case was even more interesting. In an unsuccessful strike, Alexander injured his hand. Frustrated, he pressed nail into the board with his thumb. Afterwards he decided to include this episode in his performance too. Shortly thereafter this feat became a famous circus stunt. When the entire program was ready, Chai Janos ordered the production of giant colorful posters. The posters read "In the arena, witness the strongest man in the world...Alexander Zass". False documents were prepared just in case some meticulous policeman wanted to find out who Alexander Zass was. They stated that Zass was a native citizen of Budapest. His first performace would also take place in Budapest. Spectators rushed to the circus in droves. Admissions exceeded all expectations. The week flew by serenely. Then one day, the most dreaded of situations came to pass. A military commandant of Budapest came to the circus. After applauding Zass’s magnificent program, he asked (among other things) who Alexander Zass was and why such a hero isn't serving in the Austro-Hungarian army. The explanations were weak. The commandant had his adjutant look through the documents and he declared them suspicious. The military gendarmes also got involved in the matter. Alexander Zass, the www.IronSamson.com

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strongest man in the world, had been arrested. The truth was unraveled without much difficulty. He stood in front of a military tribunal waiting for execution. The court, however, found it possible to give him life imprisonment inside a fortress. Two factors affected their decision. Firstly, during his two break outs Alexander did not kill any of the guards. Secondly, the commandant of Budapest would not want to "take the life of a great circus performer". He had expressed these feelings himself during the case proceedings.

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THE MYSTERY OF THE IRON SAMSON Once again, Alexander Zass found himself in prison. The air was cold and damp. The light was penetrating through a tiny window which stood between six and seven meters above his head. His hands and feet were shackled behind his back with heavy chains. Escape was impossible. The shackles were removed only twice a day when it was time to eat. Alexander explored every inch of the walls in his cell. The results were disappointing to say the least. He was going to rot alive in this wretched place. There was no escape. For two days he sat motionless in the corner on a pile of rotten straw. He neither ate nor drink. One thought was relentlessly throbbing in his head... "The end, close to the end. He would never again see the gloss of the arena. He would not experience the joy of his power. He would never get to be with Betty. Yes, he himself would soon cease to exist." On the third day he felt close to insanity. He tried to control himself. If he could stay sane and alive for a little while, then maybe there will be an end to this suffering. Maybe Yashin will help. Maybe the war will be over by then and amnesty will be declared. One never knows what might happen... Later on, however, he would once again become depressed. He believed that he would die there. He saw no way out of that stinking hole. “The worst thing is to become soft and give in to this sticky fear,” Shura thought to himself. He needed to get out no matter what. He was definitely going to get out. Meanwhile, it felt as though his strength was leaving him like sand running through his fingers. He decided that he must save his strength no matter what the cost! This was when Alexander started to train in the basement with his hands and feet bound in shackles. He started training hard. The handcuffs were tearing his skin and making him bleed. The pain was unbearable, yet he found a way to bear it and carry on training. He would do squats, stretches, and muscle tension exercises. He would be tensing his muscles hard for 15-20 seconds before relaxing. He would repeat this process many times in a row. He could have broken the chains but the guards were very attentive. A broken link would be replaced with a newer and tougher one. Three months later he was allowed a half-hour daily walk. The prison yard had high walls and beyond that lay a moat. He was given a tiny patch of stone to walk on. It was one hundred paces from end to end...a hundred steps chained with heavy shackles.

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The chain, the wall, and the ditch ceased to mean anything when he finally saw the sun again! It didn't matter if he could only see the sun for a very short period. It didn't matter if it was the cold winter sun. He could see it clearly against the blue sky and that was all that mattered. He did not intend to give up. He intended to live...live to see the sun! One day a huge shepherd ran down to him during one of his walks. The dog sniffed the stranger suspiciously. Then with a joyous bark, he started running around and expressing its contentment. The dog reminded Shura of his childhood friend Khan. Although the well-groomed shepherd did not look anything like his homeless mongrel, there was definitely something special about him. Apparently, the dog had a good feeling about Shura as well. They had known each other for less than ten minutes and already the dog was confidently licking Shura's cheek. The same thing happened the following day. Remembering the lessons of Durov, Shura tried to teach the dog some simple tricks. The dog appeared to be extremely intelligent. A few days later he was willing to perform commands like "heel", "sit", and "come". It was very difficult for Shura to train the dog with his hands shackled behind his back. The guards laughed, looking at the pathetic attempts of a man clad in iron trying to dominate such a sleek and independent dog. It is impossible to say how it would end if the head of the prison (the dog's master) had not interrupted their sessions. After having watched Shura's training methods, the head of the prison suggested that he take up dog training seriously. “Do you need anything in particular?” asked the head of the prison. “Well, you could start by removing these shackles,” said Alexander. “Then you could bring me some better food and water, otherwise I will not last much longer.” The head of the prison thought about it thoroughly. It would be in violation of his orders. However, strictly speaking, how would this young man escape if his hands were merely handcuffed in front of him instead of shackled to his feet? There were walls, a moat, a grille and guards everywhere. Although Alexander had managed to escape twice already, there was no chance of him getting away this time. The food could easily be improved. Plus, wouldn't it be great for Rex (the dog) to have his very own personal trainer free of charge? It would be a great success when he and Rex displayed a show of tricks for all the officers at the parties. Thus Shura's legs were freed from the shackles and he was given better food to eat. Alexander immediately began to prepare for an escape. Playing in the prison yard with the dog, he carefully studied the location of the guard posts. He tried to figure out the height of the walls and the width of the ditch surrounding the fort. Once he was able www.IronSamson.com

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to quietly hide an iron rod in his bosom, which had been discarded during the repair of the upper chambers. On another occasion, he had been able to snatch a thick wire. At night Zass was carefully expanding the gap between the stones, so he could quickly get to the barred window. The only thing he lacked was a rope. He decided to ask for a rope in order to train Rex. The warden gave him the rope, but ordered the guard to take it back after every training session. So began the delicate and dangerous game. While training the dog, Shura was separating one small strand at a time from the rope. A week later, he had gathered an adequate supply of fibers and was able to weave a short yet strong rope from them. If he could tie a few broken pieces of convict clothing to its end then it will be sufficient length. At this point, all he needed was wait for the appropriate night. Luckily that night came quickly. A strong spring rain storm came replete with thunder and lightning. Shura broke the chain links as fast as he had done in the arena. His hands were free but the handcuffs bracelets were still in the way. He had managed to unlock the cuffs with a bent piece of metal many times previously without any problems. This time however the lock did not want to submit. It was stuck. There was no time to waste. He decided to just climb with the handcuffs. He slowly pulled himself up the steep wall, gripping the gaps (between the stones) that he had been enlarging all the nights previous. Eventually he was able to reach the window. The bars of the window stood before him. With a powerful stride and a little help from his shoulder he managed to pry open the bars. He sprinted quickly across the yard and was now facing the wall. The homemade grappling hook he had made from the iron rod and rope gripped the top of the wall quite well. At this point his only concern was the integrity of his homemade rope. Hurray! The rope was strong enough to endure his weight. Now he needed to jump from a height of twenty meters into the moat. ''What if the moat was too shallow?' thought Shura as he was about to jump. Fortunately, nothing bad happened. Shura's jump was successful and he started swimming toward the edge. He could see the grassy bank. ''Please, don't let the rain stop!'' he thought to himself hopefully. Wet, dirty, half-naked and with handcuff bracelets still on his wrists, Shura came bursting into the apartment of Chai Janos in the middle of the night. There was no time to talk. "You're lucky, little fellow. We were just about to leave," said Janos rubbing his friend with a terry towel. Shura's teeth were chattering from both anxiety and from having bathed in the cool spring night.

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Breaking the handcuffs seemed like and easy task although Shura suddenly felt extremely tired. A minute later he was asleep. Janos put his friend to bed and went to fetch Betty. The night swimming had affected Shura's weakened body and in the morning the fugitive had an inflammation in his lungs. With all sorts of precautions, Janos put Shura into a cart and sent him with a trusted person into the village to stay with his sister. It was too dangerous to stay in the city. The police had been frequenting the circus and could pop up at any time. Betty also followed them into the village. Zass's iron body endured the inflammation. Two weeks later, he and Betty were walking together in a flowering meadow. He was helping Janos's sister around the house as well. Not to long after that Janos came to visit him. He brought with him a tall skinny man dressed entirely in black. “Mister Pasolini, it's my pleasure to introduce you to Alexander Zass.” “It is a pleasure to meet you. I have heard a lot about you,” said Pasolini. “You know, little fellow, it is not safe for you to stay here,” said Janos. “I am already tortured by pharos (cops) as you call them in Russia. They are looking for you. If they find you here, I will also be in trouble. Last time I got off with a fine. It was a lot of money but it didn't bankrupt me. This time however, I will be punishment more severely. They will shut down the circus. They might even put me in prison for harboring you since this is your third escape.” “Fine I'm leaving!” flared Shura. “If you're scared, then I'll just go!” “Do not get so angry little fellow” continued Janos calmly. “You cannot just leave. You will be easily caught again. There is a better way out” “Mister Pasolini has promised to take you to Italy. He is ready to lend you money if you agree to make him your manager. Frankly, it means that he is ready to get you out of this predicament if you agree to work for him in the future. Isn't that so Mister Pasolini?” Mister Pasolini calmly nodded his head. “Think about it Shura, but don't take too much time,” Janos finished. “I agree,” replied Shura immediately. Then there was silence. There was nothing left to talk about. “Betty is going with you?” asked Janos shakily. “Yes.” she replied. Then Mister Pasolini (who was silent all this time up until now) began to speak. “Dear gentlemen,” he began, slowly picking up Russian words. “Of course I trust you and I do not doubt the strength of Mr. Alexander Zass. Although I have not seen any of his shows. We can agree that we all guilty of exaggerating our capabilities...as well as the capabilities of our friends. I would like to be sure that this transaction is entirely fair. www.IronSamson.com

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More precisely, I would like to see the extraordinary strength of the distinguished Zass. I understand that you have been weakened by disease. However, perhaps you are still able to do at least some of the stunts of which this poster boasts?” That was when Mister Pasolini unwrapped a six-month-old poster with the catchy inscription "Alexander Zass - The Strongest Man in the World". “You would like to know what you are purchasing?” Shura smiled. “That's right,” replied the manager calmly. Shura grabbed the iron poker that was standing at the door and tied it in a double knot. Mister Pasolini carefully examined the metal. He took out a file out of his pocket and tried to establish the iron's density. The result did not seem to disappoint him. He grunted in satisfaction. However, the examination was not yet over. Mister Pasolini took an iron chain out of his pocket and handed it to Alexander. “Try to break it”. Shura accomplished this task without much effort. “Excellent!” said Pasolini. “Well, now do the same using your chest muscles” Shura began to wrap the chain around the ribs when Mister Pasolini stopped him suddenly. “Excuse me, I'll do it myself...Just a minute...Done!” Shura inhaled deeply, exhaled, and then inhaled again. He tensed his muscles but the chain just squeezed his ribs. Shura made one more attempt and the chain was torn. Mister Pasolini examined the fracture. “Superb!” he said. “I have no doubts now. Now let's talk about the formalities. You will get British citizenship because Great Britain has the most stable political system in the world right now. I have friends in high places. With their help, we can easily arrange a citizenship for you. You will earn good money. I believe that 20 percent of your dues will be expressed in a round sum. This will be your share. You will not be able to leave me until I say so. Otherwise, you will have to pay a penalty...a sum of which you would not be able to pay with a lifetime of work. British laws are strict. Here is the contract.” Mister Pasolini took a piece of paper from his pocket for Shura to sign. Alexander signed the contract. He wasn't thinking about the consequences at all. He did not believe that this piece of paper could somehow enslave him for life. Three escapes were worth something. The main thing is to get out of there alive. Later on he could look into changing things. Pasolini put the paper back in his pocket. “There's one more condition. Zass no longer exists. The posters will report the appearance of the 'Mysterious Iron Samson'. There will be no conversations without my knowledge and no interviews without my review. The less we know about your life, the better. You are a mysterious person..the 'Iron Samson'...got it?” asked Pasolini conclusively. www.IronSamson.com

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AFTERWORD “It took over forty years...over forty years of wandering with different circuses in different cities and countries...” London, England. A motley crowd of circus frequenters gathered together to see the Soviet performers. Multilingual hubbub was filling the hall when suddenly, a voice in perfect Russian shouted "Vladimir Gregorievitch may I speak with you?" It was as if they were not in London at all, but in Moscow, on the Colored Boulevard where an old friend was casually calling his buddy. Durov turned around. There was an old man of small composition standing in front of him. He was respectably bald and had a trim jacket. He seemed like a clerk who was left to rest in London where there were thousands of people just like him. Only there was something odd about his shoulders. They were pretty wide for a mere clerk. There was also something professional and artistic in his smile. The stranger started talking. His voice sounded muffled and nervous. It stood in surprising contrast with his impersonal smile. “I am Russian. Do not be surprised. I am an old Russian circus performer. I worked with your grandfather. Then I moved into the strength niche. When you came to London, I hesitated for a long time before I approached you. There are so many boundaries between us now, however my soul lives in my homeland Russia. I had happened across a note in the newspaper which read 'Old Russian Lion George Hackenschmidt admonishes young Russian athletes in New York'. That was when the Soviet weightlifters came to America. Hackenschmidt was called Leo during the same period I was called Samson. We were both rather unlucky, having spent the last years of our lives away from home...and if George was able to talk to our boys, why can't I?” Samson was visibly agitated. His speech became more and more confusing. “I will not take too much time from you. I know that you have a very intense program. Please do not refuse an old man, I want you to tell me about the Russian circus of today. Please, I beg you...” After returning to Moscow, the national artist of the USSR, Vladimir Durov was telling this story about the meeting to the magazine "Soviet Circus". “...In London, among our new friends we met the performer Samson, a Russian man that was torn away from his homeland by the vicissitudes of the World War. This very famous performer was talking about the successes of the Soviet circus in London with admiration and pride. He eagerly asked us about the situation of circus performers in the Soviet Union and about the system of training in our circuses. After he found out that there was a Museum of Circus Arts in Leningrad, Samson gave us his colorful www.IronSamson.com

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posters and asked us to send them to the museum...You can not imagine,” he told us, “what unquestioned authority the Soviet circus has had in England. English people are in love with the Soviet performers. They always talk warmly about their performances" Since then the name of Alexander Ivanovitch Zass (Samson), the famous Russian strongman started to appear more and more frequently on the pages of our newspapers and magazines. The amazing performances for which he was nicknamed “Iron Samson” continue to fascinate not only circus historians, but all lovers of strength training. On the outskirts of London ... at the table with a green lamp sits a tired old man. He parses some old yellowed paper. This is his favorite pastime since he had to part with the strength circus. He still however appears in the arena amongst the trained animals. Sometimes he will catch a glimpse of his name in the newspapers. "Iron Samson trains ponies, monkeys, and dogs. With a unique program, he teaches the animals stunts like flips and graceful pirouettes." His animals have a good reputation, but is this glory? .. It looks more like an obituary. However, this wasn't always the case. Mr. Pullum, director of the famous weightlifting club "Cambervel", once wrote about him in the magazine “Strongman”. Here is an old dingy clipping... "In the very heart of England, appeared a man who can perform stunts of which common sense refuses to believe in. Samson's appearance makes him a prime suspect of unfair tricks. “If we compare Samson to the giants who visited England in the older days, he looks quite pathetic. His height is a mere 1 meter 66 centimeters and his weight is no more than 75 kilograms. If he was a huge fellow, his stunts would be perceived as more credible. Nevertheless, the extension and expansion of his chest muscles were colossal. He could expand his chest from 96 centimeters on the exhale to a whopping 119 centimeters on the inhale. That's an excursion of 23 centimeters which is almost unheard of. “After the semi-official performance in the 'Cambervel' weightlifting club, Samson gained immense popularity. In particular, his bending of rods was a complete technical masterpiece with deeply thought-out movements. I contend that he is not only a person with an extraordinary strength, but also an excellent athlete who uses his mind just as well as his muscles." Here is the poster from the famous Alhambra Hall, where in 1903 the "Russian Lion" George Hackenschmidt defeated the famous Karkis. This poster was dedicated to another Russian strongman...Alexander Zass. His name, however, was not among the noisy lines. He was a man without a country. He was the “Iron Samson” and nothing more. "In Manchester, during construction,” said the poster, “Samson, suspended one foot from a crane, lifted a giant iron beam from the ground with his teeth, and was www.IronSamson.com

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hoisted to the top of the building. The crowd watched from below with their mouths agape. If Samson had opened his mouth, the crowd would have never lived to tell the story. Many people would have paid for their curiosity with their lives”. When it came to praising Samson, the newspapers were not very far behind the posters. Here's a clipping from the Daily Telegraph... "A gentleman, who goes by the name of Samson, is the strongest man on earth. This can be easily believed after seeing him bending iron bars into knots." ...and another one from the Manchester Guardian... "According to the ads, he is the strongest man on earth, and after seeing it for ourselves ... this statement can be regarded as hard fact." From Health And Strength Magazine... "In the face of Samson, we have a real strong man whose achievements are fully open to inspection." ...and another from Health and Efficiency Magazine... "Seeing is believing. Indeed it seems that his muscles are made of steel." The list goes on and on. It was glorious, however now only memories remain. It was heartbreaking to say the least, however what troubled him more than his lack of glory was the fact that he hadn't any successors to which he could pass the torch. He has always been a phenomenon in this country. Of course, there were people whom he helped for a particular amount of money to cosmetically "pump up" their muscles. However, where were those whom he could teach the true meaning of strongman? They were nowhere to be found. Things would most likely have been different if he were home in Russia. In the newspapers he read about Durov’s successors and the disciples of Poddubny. He had met one of Durov’s disciples during his tours in London. If he were in Russia, he would not be the old unwanted curmudgeon that he had become. Yearning for his homeland had become his most central of pains during his old age. “Damn those contracts!” he said to himself. He had been bound by them his entire life. Fines which he could never repay and the eternal threat of judgment was always on his back. This was both sad and painful to think about. He lived in a prison of emotional bars stronger than the iron bars he broke out of many years earlier. He found out that his sister and nephew were still alive in Russia. His nephew was also a fabulous athlete.

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Alexander Zass picked up a pen and wrote to his sister. Letter after letter, he would write about how lonely he was in a strange land and about how he wanted to return home. Pretty soon, letters started coming to London from Moscow. Alexander was receiving bulky packages with circus magazines from relatives and colleagues who did not want to forget the old circus performer. Receiving a Christmas telegram from Durov was a real treat for Samson. When the day came Alexander Zass to leave this earth, the British journal "Health and Strength" wrote this in his obituary. "The fate of Alexander Zass (former Russian Cossack) was a dramatic and sensational one. In one of the battles of 1914, he was wounded and taken prisoner by the Austrians. He fled shortly after but was caught later on. Two subsequent attempts to imprison him were also unsuccessful. When he was arrested for the third time, he was chained and imprisoned in a fortress. However, even there he managed to escape. Even during his escapes, he was demonstrating his art...breaking chains and bending iron bars. It was to be part of his future performances. The last years of his life were engaged in animal training" *** During the Sport’s Festival in the Soviet Union, an exhibition dedicated to the history of weightlifting was opened in one of the best weightlifting halls in Moscow. The exhibits told about the feats of strength performed by Poddubny, Krylov, Hackenschmidt, Zass, Vlasov, Jabotinsky, Riegert, Alekseev, and many other athletes. Two broad-shouldered guys with “Master of Sports” badges stopped in front of the portrait of Alexander Zass. They were passionately talking about something, but what? We started listening. They were talking about the traditions of the strength performances...about how these traditions were still alive. "Yes, I was reading Kuprin's books when I was young. He was friends with Zaikin. However, my fate was determined by Hackenschmidt! I was fortunate enough to meet the man who helped me understand myself and my strength," wrote Yury Vlasov about one of the famous athletes of the old circus. We thought to ourselves how wonderful it was that our soviet boys are going straight to the heights of excellence through the ways of sports. They have never met any wheeler-dealers or circus owners who've tried to steel money from them along the way. They never had to entertain drunken visitors in tents or music halls. They serve to the noblest cause of promoting physical education and sport...improving the human body. This is what Alexander Zass (as well as many other great Russian athletes who www.IronSamson.com

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performed on the stages of pre-revolutionary circuses and arenas) had always talked about it.

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ISOMETRIC EXERCISES USED BY SAMSON DURING TRAINING In the sixties, isometric exercises caused quite a sensation in the sporting world. Many athletes, incorporated isometric (static) exercises into their routines and found their athletic performance would quickly improve, most notably amongst weightlifters and swimmers. This method of force not only interested trainers but also scientists. Numerous experiments took place and the community was divided between those who strongly supported isometric exercise and those who strongly opposed it. Research continues to this day, however isometry is nothing new. Even before the Revolution, Alexander Sasse (Zass) regulary included isometric exercises in his workouts. During the 1920's he widely publicized the original system of static exercise using chains. He empirically attached great importance to isometry and believed that combined with dynamic exercises, it helped him to strengthen his tendons, develop superior strength, and keep him in shape for many many years. The most striking characteristic feature of the isometric mode is that although the muscles are thoroughly tensed, they do not contract or change their length...nor do any of the muscles or joints move at all. It also follows that isometric exercises must not deviate from the initial starting positions. Modern research has shown that the duration of isometric exercise should depend on the degree of muscular tension. If 60-70% of maximum strength is applied, then the muscular effort should last 6-10 seconds. If 80-90% of maximum strength is applied, then the muscular effort should last 4-6 seconds, and at 100% strength, only 2-3 seconds effort should be exerted. The number of repetitions of each exercise is 2-5. The total duration of exercise should not exceed 15 minutes. Thus, isometric exercises not only save time but also energy. Remember that the strength gained through isometry, is only manifested in the position that the muscles are in when the exercises are executed. Before doing any isometric exercise, be sure to do a thorough dynamic workout, especially for those muscles and joints which would account for the largest load. Otherwise, you may get injured. At first the exercises should be performed with only the 60-70% maximum strength and only after a month of training may you proceed to your maximum effort. Maximum effort should not be made with a jerk, but rather smoothly while gradually increasing effort towards maximum strength. Exercises are to be performed on the breath. After each exercise you must rest for one minute, doing breathing exercises and relaxing (by shaking) the muscles. Before you start the course, you must pass a medical examination. www.IronSamson.com

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Exercises are to be performed with chains attached metal handles by triangular hooks. Handles can be repositioned for a particular link in the chain, thereby lengthening or shortening the working section of the chain so that the chain is taught in the initial position. Exercise 1 Use only one or two links in the chain. Hold with both hands in front of your chest and raise your elbows up to shoulder level on the sides of your body. Now try to break the chain by pulling your hands apart while keeping your elbows raised.

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Exercise 2 Use about 3 feet of chain and place the chain behind your head. Now grasp the handles and try to pull the chain apart by pushing outwards away from the body on both sides.

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Exercise 3 For this exercise we need two chains about 4 feet in length. Place each foot inside one of the handles while placing each hand in the opposite ends of the individual chains. You will now have two separate chains running up the side of your body. Your arms should be in the "biceps curl" position. Stand firmly on the chains while trying to rip the chains apart with your hands by pulling upwards towards the ceiling.

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Exercise 4 For this exercise you will be using one chain with a length a little longer than the height of your body standing upright. Place your right foot into the first handle and your right hand into the second handle. Now try to rip the chain apart by pushing your hand towards the ceiling while keeping your foot firmly planted to the floor. Now repeat using your left hand and left foot.

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Exercise 5 Stand erect and exhale completely. Now wrap the chain around your torso (just under the armpit and fasten it securely. Now, flex both your latissimus dorsi and pectoral muscles while you breath in as deep as you can. Try breaking the chain with the expansion of your ribcage.

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Exercise 6 For this exercise you will need a chain about two feet long. Stand with your left knee slight bent. Hold one handle in your left hand which is hanging towards the floor down the side of your body. Hold the other handle in your right hand. Your right hand should be bent across your body with your wrist over your navel. Now push down with your left hand while simultaneously pulling up with your right hand trying to rip the chain apart at both ends. Now switch sides and repeat.

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Exercise 7 This exercise is like a one man tug-of-war. You will need a few feet of chain. One end will be fastened to a wall or wrapped around a thick sturdy tree. With one foot in front of the and one hand in front of the other try to rip the chain off the wall. Now repeat using the opposite side of the body to lead.

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Exercise 8 For this exercise you will need a chain slightly longer than the length of your foot to your knee and one handle. The side opposite the handle will be attached to a hook in a cement floor. If you do not have a way to fasten the chain to the floor, then you can attach it to a long solid metal pipe instead. Spread your legs wider than shoulder length and bend your knees placing one foot on each end of the pipe. Now pull up on the handle with both hands trying to break the chain in two using the strength of your entire body.

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DYNAMIC EXERCISES USED BY SAMSON DURING TRAINING Equipment needed - a well formed weighted sack made of leatherette, cloth, leather, etc. The sack is to be filled with sawdust, which can gradually be replaced by sand as your level of fitness increases. After two weeks of training with the initial weight of 9-16 lbs, replace a hand full of sawdust with a hand full of sand. In the future, you will be replacing a handful of sawdust with a handful of sand every 3-4 days and thus gradually increasing the weight of the sack. There is no need to rush the process of increasing the weight of the sack, since half of your success will be due to the focus and attention you pay to the proper execution of the exercises. These exercises can be performed not only by young people aspiring to athletic excellence. They may be performed by people of any age, as long as the exercises are performed correctly and the weight of the sack is increased slowly or not at all. Before starting this course, please consult with your physician. In the future, be sure to monitor yourself as well as regularly checking with your doctor. All results should be recorded and documented daily in your own health and fitness diary. You will want to follow up each sack exercise with a deep breathing exercises. Breathing exercises are to be done from the initial standing position, heels together, toes apart, arms along the body. a) Inhale deeply while raising your arms out to your sides. Bring your hands slightly above shoulder level while tilting your head back and raising your nose into the air. Now, return to your original position and exhale completely. b) Again start off in the initial position. Inhale deeply while raising your arms in front of you (palms inward). Tilt the head up, and again, return the head and arms to the initial position while exhaling completely. Special attention must always be paid to the execution of proper breathing technique whilst performing the weighted sack exercises. Your breathing should coincide with the expansion and contraction of your thorax. For instance, it is most favorable to inhale when the chest is open and the arms are raised, while it is most favorable to exhale while chest is collapsed arms depressed. The flow of air in and out of the body should be made slowly and deliberately in the beginning. The pace and intensity may be increased as one's level of fitness increases over time.

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Exercise 1 Starting position - Feet shoulder width apart with the weighted sack placed on the floor just beyond the toes. Lean over with bent legs. Grab the sack with your hands and hoist it up to your chest with one movement. Collect yourself for a split second and then push the sack over your head. (almost like a sandbag clean and press). Now lower the sack back down to your chest, and with one final movement place it back on the floor. (don't just drop it) Repeat the entire series of movements 10-15 times.

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Exercise 2 Starting position - Stand with your heels together, toes apart the weighted sack in your hands resting on your chest. Now, lower yourself all the way down into the full squat position while simultaneously pushing the sack over your head. Next, straighten your legs all the way up while simultaneously lowering the sack back down to your chest. Make sure that your movements are completely synchronized in the simultaneous opposing movements of the arms and legs. Repeat the entire series of movements 10-15 times.

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Exercise 3 Starting position - stand with feet shoulder width apart with the weighted sack in the palm of one hand resting at the shoulder. Press the sack up over the head and while keeping the arm straight, rotate (by twisting the wrist) the sack on its axis twice in each direction. Be sure to use the wrist as the axis of rotation. Then return to the starting position. Repeat the exercise until the working muscle groups are completely exhausted and fatigued. Now perform the exercise with the opposite hand. For extra development of the fingers, you will want to tweak your technique after a few rounds. Try holding the weighted sack on a straight arm move each finger separately while you rotate, as if you're trying to lift the sack even higher into the air. Continue until all working muscle groups are thoroughly fatigued.

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Exercise 4 Starting position - Stand with feet slightly wider than shoulder width. Hold the weighted sack in the palm of your hand flexed at the shoulder, the elbow is taken aside. Now bend your knees (for more power) and toss the sack across the body in a semi-circle fashion and catch the sack in your opposite hand. Let the momentum of the sack wind your body like a catapult and immediately toss the sack back across the body in a semi-circle fashion and catch with the starting hand. Continue to juggle the weighted sack in this fashion until for 10-15 times or until the working muscles are thoroughly fatigued.

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Exercise 5 Starting position - Stand with feet wider than shoulder width, somewhat bent at the knees. Hold the sack in your hands around knee level. Quickly straighten the legs and torso while tossing the sack 3 or 4 feet into the air and catching it (without the assistance of the hands) on the back of the neck and shoulders. Now drop your left shoulder and let the sack fall into your hands without hitting the floor.. Once again throw the sack into the air and catch on the back of the neck, only this time drop your right shoulder and let the sack fall into your hands. Repeat 10 -15 times.

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Exercise 6 Starting position - lying on your back (on the floor), take the weighted sack (located on the floor behind your head) and with straight arms, slowly raise the sack up to the vertical position of the hands. (like a pec-minor pull-over). Now, lower the chest, and slowly return to the starting position. Repeat 10-15 times.

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Exercise 7 Starting position - (same as exercise 6). This time raise your legs, bend their knees and use your hands to place the sack on your feet. Now press the sack up into the air by straightening your legs. Then lower to starting position. Continue doing repetitions until exhaustion is reached. As your strength and coordination grows, you may attempt to perform this exercise one leg at a time.

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Exercise 8 Starting position - Stand with heels together, toes apart, holding the weighted sack with both hands at knee level. Now, start moving the sack to the side of the left hip, and continuing in a circular fashion and keeping the arms straight, pull the sack up above the left shoulder (in front of the body) and continue over the head down around the right shoulder and returning into the starting position. Using the same method and principle, repeat the is exercise starting your circle from the right side and completing it on the left. Perform this exercise 10-15 times.

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About Logan Christopher Logan got started training in a traditional gym doing bodybuilding routines like many others, because he was never exposed to anything different. That was until after high school. From there he began working hard with bodyweight exercises, kettlebells and many other training tools. After reading The Spiritual Journey of Joseph L. Greenstein he decided he wanted to become a strongman like the Mighty Atom and many others. He began to learn from Dennis Rogers, the greatest performing strongman alive today, a descendant in the lineage of strongmen from the Mighty Atom as well. He is also partners with another well known strongman, Bud Jeffries, who has successfully squatted 1000 lbs. from the bottom of the power rack. You can find more at www.Strongerman.com Along with working on feats of strength, gymnastic skills and much more he has made an in-depth study of most of the oldtime strongmen. His most well known feat of strength was pulling an 8800 lb. antique firetruck a distance of about 50 yards by his hair at the Atomic Athletic Oldtime Strongman Picnic. He is also one of the leading people and innovators in the field of mental training as applied to strength training and fitness. You can find out much more at two of his main websites where he teaches others about strength, fitness and health: www.LegendaryStrength.com www.LostArtOfHandBalancing.com Logan Christopher lives in Santa Cruz, California.

About Professor 'Stone' Paul Professor "Stone" Paul is not only a drug-free physical culture and strength enthusiast but also a linguist (www.speakswedishstupid.com & www.russianforretards.com) and a touring musician/producer (under the stage names "Paul Needza Friend" and "O-Zark"). Paul's original interest in his own physical capabilities were piqued as a small child when he started playing sports like baseball, football and...climbing trees. Having suffered from many chronic illnesses as a baby and toddler, he was determined to overcome the physical weakness that had befallen him. At 5 years old he would often run up and down the driveway attempting to improve his speed. He would also jump off the front step over and over again trying to improve the length of his leap. Another pastime was finding bigger and bigger stones and trying to smash them with the ball-peen hammer his father had given him. A year later his father showed him an isometric exercise he called "Arm-wrestling Yourself". Young Paul was enthralled and started practicing this move everyday. He experimented with different positions and angles and soon had developed an entire system for the development of his hands. At 7 years old he entered an arm-wrestling contest hosted by his Boy Scout troupe and he went on to beat everyone including all the older kids and female adults. Everyone kept asking him how he got so strong and every time he would utter the weird word his father introduced him to... "isometrics". As a teenager, Paul was once again hindered by health issues and was forced to take some time off from athleticism. His focus shifted towards nutrition and music. Having studied nutrition, he was able to heal his body and slowly get back into chasing strength and athleticism. Instead of pursuing scholasticism, Paul decided he wanted to start his own business and decided to take his music on the road. Constantly waking up in new places and not having reliable access to any gym equipment, Paul was forced to learn how to get stronger by unorthodox means. Little by little he was able to develop systems and techniques for gaining strength and mass by utilizing whatever "equipment" was made available to him on a regular basis. This equipment turned out to be namely his own body, floors, walls, jungle gyms, stones, trees, and anything else he could get his hands on in whatever random city/country he happened to wake up in that day. Life on the road as a self-employed teenager/young adult was also a challenge financially, so there was also the added benefit of this sort of training costing zero money. These factors combined is how the modus operandi of Stone Age Strength was created. Paul's goal is to get you as strong, lean, and athletic as possible without spending any money on gym memberships, drugs or equipment. In this sense we are mimicking our Stone Age Ancestors. There is of course nothing wrong with expensive training equipment, but for many of us, this is not an option monetarily. With the development of "Stone Age Strength", Paul intends to provide the right information so that you can achieve maximum strength, health and harmony in your life without having to rely on modern day amenities. Find more at www.StoneAgeStrength.com

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