Britain's stretchiest man!
Thursday 2nd April 2009
Would you be insanely jealous if I told you that my fiancé's line of work meant we often jetted off to LA? You would? You're not alone. If I was reading about this trip in a magazine, I'd be jealous too. An all-expenses-paid stay in a gorgeous hotel in 30-degree sunshine. A posh car and driver to take us wherever we wanted to go. Dinner in fancy restaurants… Talk about jammy. But my partner Garry isn't an actor being flown around the world to talk about his latest blockbuster. He's Garry 'Stretch' Turner, one of Britain's most famous freaks. The reason we'd gone to one of the world's most glamorous cities was for Garry to set a new world record. For stretchiest skin. And there goes the glamour…
Still, I mustn't grumble, if it wasn't for me, Garry, would never be known for his stretchy skin. Instead he'd be a regular at my pub, The Red Lion, in Caister-On-Sea, Norfolk. When I met him back in June 1999, his mates all called him Stretch, but I didn't know why. Was it because he was tall? Or had he done a 'stretch' in prison? I didn't like to ask. I'll never forget the day I finally found out about his ability. 'You've got to see what Garry's doing,' one of the regulars said, rushing over. I did a double take, and the pints I was pouring overflowed. Garry had grabbed the skin on his cheek and pulled it out a good six inches. He looked like he was made of Plasticine! I'd never seen anything like it. People crowded round him, leaning in to get a better look, and pulling on their own cheeks to compare. 'Garry!' I shouted. 'That's disgusting.' Just looking at him gave me the shivers. I was so spooked, I refused to talk to him for a week. But when I did, I found out why he was so stretchy. 'I've got something called Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS),' he explained after we locked up one night. 'It's a rare genetic disorder to do with the collagen in my body, and means my skin and bones are extra pliable.' His joints were affected too, and would pop out of place. 'I have to pop them back in myself,' he explained. Poor bloke. And that wasn't the worst of it. If he bumped himself, he'd develop terrible bruises because his veins were affected too. He was on morphine for the pain. 'Feel,' he said offering his arm. I ran my hand up and down. His skin was as soft as velvet. 'No point getting down about it,' he smiled. 'You've got to laugh.' I had a good sense of humour too, and shortly afterwards, we became a couple.
That's when I persuaded him to contact a national newspaper. 'You might as well make a bit of money,' I told him, remembering how amazed the regulars had been. He'd had so much time off his plastering job due to his condition, he wasn't exactly raking it in.
The paper thought his stretchy skin was hilarious and sent a load of models down to pose with Garry. So Garry got stuck in, pulling funny poses with the girls. The cameraman had a field day catching it all, and Garry lapped it up. And who could blame him? Then, things really took off. He was asked to appear on telly on a show called The Fortean Times, and then, best of all, Guinness Book of World Records invited us out to LA to set a new record. Garry looked green with nerves as he stretched out the skin on his stomach to 15.5cm. But when he set the record, he was chuffed to bits. 'Well done,' I said, giving him a cuddle after his skin had snapped back into place. I felt so proud of him. But back home, things weren't going so well.
Garry still couldn't go back to work as a plasterer and he was miserable sitting round the house. 'Why don't you do some more telly work?' I suggested. 'Nah,' he shrugged. He'd enjoyed the stuff he'd done so far, but I knew that Garry wasn't the sort to push himself forward. So I bought a copy of The Stage newspaper and saw that an 'alternative' circus called The Circus of Horrors was playing for a few months in London. They had sword wallowers, people who stuck spears through their head and fire-eaters. Grabbing the advert and my mobile, I went into the kitchen. 'Is that the Circus of Horrors?' I whispered. 'I was wondering if you'd like a new freak?' Once I explained what Garry's 'talent' was and sent some pictures, they were really keen for him to join them. Now, I just had to tell Garry. 'You know how I think your skin is amazing,' I began. 'Yes,' he frowned, looking at me suspiciously. 'What have you done?' 'I phoned The Circus of Horrors about you,' I blurted out. 'And they think it's great.' 'Jane!' he gasped, shocked. But then a smile spread across his face and he laughed. 'OK,' he said. 'I'll give it a go.'
I really am glad I meddled that day, because Garry has been working with the Circus ever since and has travelled round the world. The fact that I get to go along sometimes has nothing to do with it, of course. Garry's changed so much from the shy bloke I met all those years back. And now, he's got two new fans. My daughter Sadie's little ones, Holly, 2, and George, 5 months. 'Grandad!' Holly laughed the other day when we were on our way to the chippie. She was pointing at a poster of Garry for The Circus in his gothic make-up and pulling at his skin. Looks like nothing scares her. But then, with a grandad like Garry, why would it?
Picture from Circus of Horrors