April 1st. 1889, on the outskirts of Chicago, a legend was born. This man would revolutionize the sport of penis measuring and go down in history as the greatest athlete of the modern era.
His name was:
H. R. "The Tripod" Arbuckle
The "Babe Ruth" Of Hanging Pork
Tripod Outside of F. Hanks Pig Slaughter House
Circa 1916
"At H.R.'s birth the midwife passed out when she saw what he had between his legs."
-Arnold Arbuckle (H.R.'s dad)
(The mid wife's passing out was documented in the town hall of records.)
In 1880 Arnold Arbuckle came to America with his wife Chloe to start his boot buckle company (The clasps were best known as the "R" buckle). Arnold Arbuckle became an instant success with a celebrity status with-in the Chicago area. The Arbuckle's were living the "Life of Riley" with Arnold considered a real man's man and Chloe being a well-respected aristocrat. In 1886 Chloe gave birth to female twins, Guinevere and Elizabeth. Life was grand for the Arbuckle's and their two young children, but Arnold would not be completely satisfied until he sired a son.
He got his wish on April 1st, 1889 when Chloe gave birth to H. R. Arbuckle. When Arnold saw the sheer size of baby H. R's manhood Arnold proclaimed, "That's my boy!” As the years went by the twins grew jealous of all the attention the young H. R. was getting. Chloe's lady friends were so enamored with the baby "Tripod” that they practically lived at the Arbuckle Estate. By 1895 H. R. was growing into a fine young man, he was easily the smartest child in the first grade with aspirations of going to college. Little H. R's achievements were the icing on the cake, Arnold was living the American dream, but all that was about to change.
In mid 1895 the once thriving Arbuckle Empire was on it last legs. No one was buying the "R" buckle shoes because shoelaces came back in style. Add to that a series of horrible investment and their luxurious lifestyle had all but wiped out the Arbuckle fortune. In late 1895 Arnold had to close the Arbuckle plant forcing hundreds out of work. Arnold had to take a job unloading live stock from railroad carts. Unfortunately the money was not enough to feed the family, so Arnold was forced to pull the bright H. R. out of school and reluctantly put him to work at the peanut shucking plant. H. R. would cry every morning while walking the two miles to work. He dreaded each day until he made friends with a lad named F. C. Mann Demon. They became inseparable as they spent long hours shucking peanuts.
The F. Hanks Years
In January, 1910 F. C. Mann Demon's father, Peter Mann Demon, past away abruptly (Peter tried to crank start a car, while it was in gear, and it ran him over). F. C. took his dad's position at F. Hanks Pig Slaughter House, leaving his buddy H. R. behind at the shucking plant. H. R. was miserable, the days dragged on. In June of 1910 F. C. was able to get H. R. a job on the disassembly line at F. Hanks. Arnold was so proud of his of son for having such a respectable job (and free pork to boot!). To thank F. C, Arnold finally gave him permission to marry his daughter, Elizabeth. H.R. was rejuvenated working on the disassembly line. The years flew by uneventfully until 1915. One day in the spring of 1915, between shifts, a few of the boys were arguing over who had the larger flaccid penis. H. R. overheard the conversation and was angered but did not say anything. Years earlier F. C. Mann Demon had "accidentally" seen H. R.'s genitals when it slipped out of his swim trunks at the watering hole. F.C. urged H. R. to shut the co-worker mouths up, but H.R. still held back. Finally F. C. called out the biggest bragger, Shamus O'Tabak, the snout and hoof grinder on the line. F. C. proclaimed that H. R. Arbuckle had the longest willy and told Shamus to "put up or shut up." Shamus accepted confidently as all the other workers placed their bets. The match up wasn't even close, Arbuckle destroyed Shamus. Shamus was so embarrassed he quit on the spot.
H.R. "The Tripod" Arbuckle posing outside of F. Hank's Pig Slaughterhouse
Photographed by Friend, F.C. Mann Demon Himslf (Circa 1916)
The penis measurement contests caught on like wild fire at F. Hanks Pig Slaughter House. Of the 300 employees, more than half of them competed regularly, with matches taking place nearly every day. Since no one would play H. R. he kept the books and took the bets. Everything went smoothly until 1918. F. C. Mann Demon had been a spectator until earlier that year.
When he joined the games he was disqualified repeatedly because he kept getting erections for some reason. Mann Demon pleaded with H.R. to get him reinstated, but Arbuckle refused to help his old friend. To get revenge for his exclusion Mann Demon called the police about a burglary at the pig slaughterhouse. The Chicago police arrived to find what looked like ten guys lined up, exposing themselves near the pig carcasses. H. R. was among those arrested and was charged with indecent behavior. The charges were later dropped, but the damage was already done. All those involved were fired including H. R. Soon after F. C. Mann Demon left his wife Elizabeth, never to return.
H. R. Turns Pro
The Lost Journal Collection
After the arrest and loss of his job H. R. grew extremely disheartened. His father Arnold was disappointed with his son's foolish behavior. H. R. decided it would be wise to go back to school. In preparation he frequented the library, pouring over hundreds of books, soaking up knowledge like a sponge. What he would stumble upon would his dchange estiny.
H. R. discovered that the sport of flaccid penis measuring had been around for thousands of years, throughout history. This led him to believe that with a little planning he could make a living doing this. So in early 1919 at the age of thirty he started to look for matches at local pubs in and around Chicago (Photo on left of a pub that H. R. frequented). The going was rough at first and H. R. got roughed up a few times by patrons who misunderstood him and the sport. Despite the hardships by early 1920 he was actually making a few bucks here and there.
Arnold Arbuckle believed H. R. was going to work each night at the snuff mill, until one night when he witnessed H. R. at a tavern trying to solicit a match. H. R. told his dad that this was his career. Arnold was stunned that his boy would lie to him and was embarrassed that H. R. was his son. He gave H. R. a choice, quit or leave the Arbuckle family. H. R. left, he used most of his savings to rent out a small motel room on the seedy side of town. The funds were enough for two weeks accommodations. His back was against the wall, he spent a week trying to figure out why he wasn't making the big bucks. H. R. realized he had to be more selective and look for the big paydays.
H. R. went out searching for people who had money. Unfortunately at the bars he frequented those people were few and far between, but on the day his rent was due he struck gold. He spotted a gentleman wearing a black top hat, a tuxedo with white gloves and matching silk scarf. This man looked depressed, Arbuckle used his last nickel to buy him a beer. H. R. gained his trust and the man eventually told Arbuckle his wife had left him because she said his penis was too big and sex was too painful. The man proclaimed he had the biggest penis in Chicago and that he could have any women, except for the one he loved. This lead H. R. to challenge the man to "Hang Pork" as it was being called. H. R. embarrassed the man, taking his thirty dollars, enough cash to pay his rent and get back on his feet.
From 1920 to 1924 H. R. Arbuckle made a decent living "hanging pork", as good as most working the standard sixteen hour shift. Legends were being spread around Chicago about the three legged man, eventually coining the name "The Tripod". It was even rumored that H. R. hung pork with the gangster, John Dillinger. (There is no evidence to support the alleged $10,000 dollar showdown ever took place, Dillinger's photo on left). "The Tripod" was forced to disguise himself because it was getting harder and harder to find matches. In late 1924 H. R. was too well known in Chicago to continue. His savings were rapidly shrinking so he moved to the east coast to try his luck, this time keeping an extremely low profile.
H. R. would become a master of disguise (Rare photo on right of H. R. disguised as a Bandito in Philadelphia 1926), moving quickly from town to town. (It is nearly impossible to find a photograph of H. R. Arbuckle from 1925 to the 60's because he would not allow it due to his paranoid fear of overexposure) The money wasn't as great as Chicago but it was steady until the stock market crash of 1929. That year he lived mostly off his savings.
In 1930, at the age of 41, he met and married Griselda Carmanlandano, a 24 year old beauty queen. Her family was wealthy and set up H. R. with a hardware store. In 1931 he sired a son, Hercules Arbuckle, unfortunately he was average in every way. H. R. quit hanging pork to manage the store and raise little Hercules. Life was enjoyable for H. R and his family for the next fifteen years. The hardware store had become a huge success. H. R. felt a real sense of stability for the first time in his life, but like many former athletes, deep down inside, he missed the adrenaline rush of hanging pork.
In 1946, a man in his fifties came into the hardware store, this man kept staring at H. R. Finally Arbuckle approached him. The man asked him, "Are you The Tripod?" H. R. smiled, he hadn't heard that in years. The man's name was Sammy O'Sullivan, he was from Chicago and remembered H. R. Sammy was a self-proclaimed professional pork hanger, who was quite successful working the newly formed underground circuit out west. Sammy told H. R. he was wasting his talent at the hardware store, when he should be out there hanging pork. That afternoon stuck with H. R. for the next year. Over that time he began to feel trapped, baring a great deal of resentment, and did not want to blame his wife and son.
In late 1947, at the age of 58, Tripod took a one month vacation alone to California. Out west he felt like a young man again, hanging pork every day, making a great deal of money. The rush he felt knowing no matter who he played he could not be defeated, that became his drug. (In his journal H. R. wrote
"Most people think what I do is strange or odd, that's fine. To be the best at anything is a great gift. The majority of the world will never know the feeling I get when I compete. I'm in total control when I hang pork.") After eight weeks Griselda went to California to bring H. R. back east but he tried to persuade her to move there with him. After days of arguing the two split up and Griselda went back to her family without H. R. Tripod's one month vacation turned into a five year stay.
He dominated the west coast for five years and in 1952 he packed his bags and headed back east to take on new challengers. Over the next eight years he worked his way down from Maine to Florida dominating each opponent he faced. In 1960 at the age of 71 H. R. retired and headed north to make peace with his son Hercules, who was now a grown man. On the way there H. R.'s vehicle broke down, he pushed it to the nearest service station, "Gastime Gas Station". While waiting for the car to be repaired H. R. went into the men's room (Photo below) to relieve himself.
To his surprise he walked in on two men hanging pork. H. R. chuckled. The men were not amused and told him, "Put up or shut up!” When H. R. revealed his massive member the men were floored. After they paid Tripod his winnings they shook his hand and told him about a 20 year old, loud mouth, local champ known as "The Horse". The men asked "Tripod" to stay and play this self-proclaimed champion, but H. R. refused explaining that he was retired and was leaving as soon as his car was repaired. The men begged and pleaded with Tripod to put the "The Horse" in his place. H. R. said, "So this guy thinks he's the best?”
The next day "The Horse" had a swagger as he entered the Gastime men's room which was packed with ten onlookers. He pulled out a roll of hundreds and said, "Five Hundred sound good grandpa?" H. R. nodded and signaled with a wave to allow "The Horse" to go first. As "The Horse" unbuttoned his pants he said to H. R., "PREPARE TO DIE OLD MAN!" "The Horse" lived up to his nickname, but he was no "Tripod". After being humiliated, "The Horse" whaled like an infant. The Tripod laughed hysterically while "The Horse" handed over the money. The crowd of men cheered victoriously as they lifted Tripod over their heads. H. R. never made it to see his son. Gastime Gas Station became his new home. Chumps came from all over the world to play "The Tripod" but no mortal of the day could beat him.
H. R. finally decided to put it away in 1964. He retired never knowing defeat. At his retirement dinner he was brought to tears as his peers honored him.. H. R. gave an emotional speech leaving the audience overwhelmed and choked up. He talked about his life and said:
(Excerpt from speech) "I would not have changed how my life progressed and if I had more time I would put my efforts to making hanging pork a legitimate mainstream sport. It is up to each one of you to carry the torch to the
next generation."
In early 1967 H. R. fell ill and was on his death bed at the hospital. People from all walks of life came to support the dying legend. One day his estranged son, Hercules now 36 came to see him. While alone H. R. apologized for leaving. Hercules wanted to know if the tales he heard about H. R. were true. Hercules asked, "Are you the Tripod?" With his last remaining strength H. R. lifted up his extra-long hospital gown and revealed his money maker. Hercules burst into tears and gave his dad a huge hug. Hercules instantly forgave his dad and understood why he had to leave. With it still in his hand H. R. said, "Claim your birthright." and then he passed away in Hercules's arms.
H. R. "The Tripod" Arbuckle
1989 - 1967
The Legacy
Today H. R. is more celebrated than ever. He paved the way for the champions of today. It is a shame that he never got the big payday like today's athletes. All that mattered was H. R. truly loved the sport, his heart was in every match.
Like Babe Ruth the legend of H. R. will live on forever
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Researched and Written by: R. J. Redbone