I am pleased with the strides our civilization has made in 2022, recognizing that progress comes in various forms. While acknowledging that certain aspects of the past were better, it’s crucial to highlight that some elements of bygone eras belong precisely where they are, in the past.
In the 19th century, “freak shows” were a popular attraction, considered a regular part of American society. These mobile circuses showcased individuals deemed “odd”, such as bearded women and Siamese twins. Mary Ann Bevan, labeled the “Ugliest Woman in the World”, emerged as one of these attractions, and her poignant life story emphasizes the need to remember and learn from such historical missteps.
While human curiosity about individuals with different ethnicities or physical abilities has existed throughout history, exploiting them for profit is ethically wrong, regardless of the time period. In the 19th century, audiences flocked to witness people with deformities in “freak shows”, an unsettling trend that persisted from the 1840s to the 1940s without widespread moral objection.
Mary Ann Bevan’s story unfolded in this challenging period. Born as Mary Ann Webster on December 20, 1874, in Plaistow, East London, she grew up in a working-class household, one of eight children. Unlike her brothers, who found employment when they reached adulthood, Mary Ann pursued education, graduating from medical school and beginning her career as a nurse in 1894.
Her life took a positive turn when she married Thomas Bevan in 1902, and together, they experienced the joys of raising four children. However, tragedy struck after 14 years of marriage when Thomas suffered a stroke and passed away. Left alone with her children, Mary Ann faced additional challenges as she grappled with a rare condition known as acromegaly, which affected her physical appearance.
Acromegaly, characterized by the overproduction of growth hormone, leads to enlarged body tissues and bones. Mary Ann exhibited symptoms around the age of 32, and with limited knowledge about the condition at the time, she struggled to find help. Unlike the typical manifestation of acromegaly after puberty, Mary Ann’s ailment affected her face, altering her features.
Despite her hardships, Mary Ann initially found solace in her family and received support from her husband. However, after Thomas’s death, the disease’s impact worsened, rendering her unemployable due to her changed appearance. Desperate to provide for her children, Mary Ann responded to a newspaper advertisement seeking the “Ugliest woman” for a circus.
Claude Bartram, an agent for Barnum and Bailey, selected Mary Ann based on her photograph and offered her a contract that included a weekly salary, travel expenses, and proceeds from picture postcard sales. Mary Ann’s journey to America in 1920 marked the beginning of her fame as “The Ugliest Woman on Earth”, with appearances at the Coney Island Circus.
Despite objections to the morality of using individuals with physical differences for entertainment, Mary Ann became a sensation, earning significant income. The financial success allowed her to provide her children with education in England, fulfilling her commitment as a devoted mother. Mary Ann’s resilience and sacrifice epitomize true beauty and maternal love.
Returning to France in 1925 for an exhibition, Mary Ann spent the remainder of her life in New York, working at the Coney Island Dreamland Show. She passed away in 1933 from natural causes at the age of 59, fulfilling her dying wish to be buried in her native country, laid to rest at South London’s Ladywell and Brockley Cemetery.
Mary Ann Bevan’s story is a testament to her unwavering determination to support her family. In a time without modern benefits, she worked tirelessly, embodying the selflessness of a mother who prioritizes her children above all. May Mary Ann rest in peace, a deserving tribute to a woman whose life exemplified sacrifice and maternal love.
My Neighbor Egged My Car Over Halloween Decorations—You Won’t Believe His Reason
I was beyond exhausted—the kind of tired that makes you question if you’ve brushed your teeth or remembered to feed the dog.
Ever since the twins were born, my days had blurred into a never-ending cycle of diaper changes, feeding schedules, and sleepless nights. The last thing I needed was another problem to deal with. But when I stepped outside that morning, I found my car completely covered in eggs.
At first, I thought it was a random prank. Who wouldn’t? Halloween was around the corner, and maybe some kids had gotten a little too excited. I sighed, too tired to even be upset, and grabbed a sponge and bucket, ready to clean up the mess.
But just as I started scrubbing, my neighbor Brad came strutting over with that smug grin of his.
“That was me,” he said, almost proudly. “Your car was ruining the view of my Halloween decorations.”
I blinked at him, trying to process his words through the fog of exhaustion. My car? Ruining his view? His ridiculous display of plastic skeletons, fake cobwebs, and oversized pumpkins?
Furious, but too tired to even start an argument, I just nodded, biting back the urge to say something I might regret. I didn’t have the energy for a confrontation, but in that moment, I silently promised myself that I’d find a way to teach Brad a lesson.
He had no idea who he was messing with.
Don’t get me wrong, Lily and Lucas were my sweet little babies, but taking care of two newborns mostly by myself was incredibly hard. I hadn’t slept a full night in months. Halloween was coming, and the whole neighborhood was excited—except me.
I didn’t have the energy to decorate, let alone get into the festive spirit.
Then, there was Brad.
Brad took Halloween way too seriously. Every year, he turned his house into a huge haunted attraction with gravestones, skeletons, big jack-o’-lanterns, and more.
He loved the attention and would smile proudly whenever someone complimented his decorations.
The entire block loved it, but I was too exhausted to care about Brad’s haunted house.
One October morning, things started to fall apart.
I went outside, carrying Lily on one hip and holding Lucas in my arm, when I noticed something. My car was covered in eggs! The eggshells were stuck to the gooey mess, dripping down the windshield like some gross breakfast gone wrong.
“Are you serious?” I muttered, staring at the mess.
The night before, I had parked in front of Brad’s house. I didn’t have much choice since it was easier to park closer to my door with the twins’ stroller.
At first, I thought it was a prank. But when I saw egg splatters near Brad’s porch, I knew it had to be him.
Brad had done this.
Even though he didn’t own the street, Brad acted like he controlled the curb during Halloween.
Furious, I marched over to his house and knocked on the door, maybe harder than I should have, but I didn’t care anymore.
“What?” Brad opened the door with his usual smug expression, crossing his arms.
His house was already decorated. There were cobwebs, plastic skeletons, and a witch sitting on a chair. It was all too much.
I wasted no time. “Did you see who egged my car?”
Without blinking, Brad replied, “I did it. Your car was blocking the view of my decorations.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “You egged my car because it was parked in front of your house? You didn’t ask me to move it—you just trashed it?”
He shrugged like it was no big deal. “How can people see my display if your car is in the way?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Are you serious?”
Brad nodded, still looking pleased with himself. “I’m the Halloween King. People come from all over to see my decorations. You’re always parked there. It’s inconsiderate and ruins the vibe.”
I was juggling two newborns, barely holding it together, and he was talking about ruining the vibe?
“Well, sorry if my life interferes with your spooky setup,” I snapped. “I’ve got newborn twins, Brad.”
“I know,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “Maybe park somewhere else.”
“I park there because it’s easier with the babies and the stroller!”
Brad shrugged again. “Not my problem. You can park there after Halloween.”
I stood there, speechless, my anger boiling inside. But being so tired, I couldn’t even argue anymore.
“Fine,” I snapped, and stormed back inside, shaking with anger and disbelief.
As I washed the egg off my car, something clicked. Brad wasn’t just an annoying neighbor—he was a bully. And I had had enough. If he wanted to play dirty, fine. I could play smarter.
Later that night, while rocking Lily to sleep, an idea hit me. Brad’s weakness was his pride. He needed his haunted house to be the best. I didn’t have the energy for a fight, but revenge? That, I could handle.
The next day, I casually strolled over to Brad’s yard while he was adding more decorations.
“Hey, Brad,” I said, faking cheerfulness. “I’ve been thinking. It was inconsiderate of me to block your display. Have you thought about upgrading it?”
He looked suspicious. “Upgrade?”
“Yeah, with things like fog machines or ghost projectors. Your setup is great, but those would really impress people.”
His eyes lit up. I knew I had him.
I suggested brands I had researched—terrible machines with awful reviews. But he didn’t need to know that.
“You think so?” he asked, already planning his next move.
“Oh, definitely. You’d be the talk of the neighborhood.”
Satisfied, I walked away, waiting for Halloween.
When Halloween night came, Brad’s house looked like a scene from a horror movie. He had gone all out, as I expected.
Crowds gathered to admire his setup, and Brad was in the middle of it, enjoying the attention.
I watched from my porch, feeling like a villain in a movie. His display looked impressive—until it didn’t.
Right on cue, the fog machine sputtered and started spraying water like a garden hose. The crowd gasped, and kids laughed.
Brad rushed to fix it, but then his ghost projector malfunctioned. Instead of a spooky ghost, it showed a strange blob, making the kids laugh even more.
Then, one of his giant inflatables collapsed, rolling across the yard. Some teenagers, seeing the disaster, threw eggs at his house for fun.
Brad was frantic, running around trying to save his haunted house, but it was too late. His Halloween display had turned into a joke.
The next morning, just as I was feeding Lucas, there was a knock at the door. Brad stood there, looking defeated.
“I, uh, wanted to apologize,” he mumbled. “I overreacted.”
I crossed my arms, waiting. “Yeah, you did.”
He shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t realize how hard it must be with the twins. I’m sorry.”
I let him squirm for a bit. “Thanks for apologizing, Brad. I’m sure it won’t happen again.”
He nodded quickly. “It won’t.”
As he turned to leave, I couldn’t help but add, “Funny how things work out, huh?”
Brad had no response.
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