Manuel King, born September 5, 1923 passed away April 4, 2016. He is preceded in death by his parents, William Abrahm King, Sr. and Manuela Cortez; son, Abraham William King; daughter, Anita Washburn; six siblings, beloved nieces, nephews and several other family members and friends. He will be greatly missed by his wife Maria King; children, Manuelita PJ Barnett and husband Eddy, Martha Herebia and husband Baldemar, Patricia Corban, Irene Cerda and husband Sam; son, Jose Garzon; grandchildren, Lisa Johnson, Abraham “Skip” King, Jonathan Herebia, Fernando Corban, Jennifer Granados, Jose Garzon, Tiffany Scarlett, Brittany Scarlett, Sergio Garzon, Lee Anthony Ramos, Christian Garzon, Preston “Boogie Woogie” Barnett and Edison Barnett; great grandchildren, Anna, Grace, Joshua, Tori, Margot, Keke, Leah, Sarah, Allen, JR, Danny, Frances, Mauricio, Sebastian, Mia, Camila, Benjamin, Julian, Jayden, Jordan and many beloved nieces, nephews, family and friends.
Visitation will be from 5:00 pm until 9:00 pm Sunday, April 10, 2016 at Brookside Funeral Home with a rosary to be recited at 7:00p m. Funeral service will be conducted at 12:00 pm Monday, April 11, 2016 at Brookside Funeral Home with a committal service following at 2:30 pm at the Houston National Cemetery.
The following article was published in The Houston Chronicle. This is an example of how Manuel left his print on this earth.
The fact that his father was the "snake king" of the Texas-Mexican border and his earliest playmates denizens of the old man's menagerie seemed to guarantee that little Manny King would have an unusual childhood. Early on, though, there was little to hint that, by age 11, the boy would gain national fame as a lion trainer or that, before he entered his teens, he would star as a loincloth-clad jungle child in the serial cinematic cliffhanger, "Darkest Africa."
In his long circus-based career, King managed talent, brokered animals, worked as ringmaster and, in a particularly colorful interlude, ran a carnival sideshow touting ordinary nutrias as exotic "giant Russian rats."
On Monday, King, retired from show business but still working with animals at his Alpha K-9 Pet Services in north Houston, died after suffering a fall while recovering from heart surgery. He was 92. "He was always in the spotlight," said his daughter, Manuelita Barnett. "He truly was my best friend." For King, flamboyance seemed a birthright. His father was William Abraham Lieberman, a Brownsville-based importer of exotic animals for the zoo and circus trades. So successful was Lieberman that he was renowned as the "Snake King of Brownsville," and legally changed his surname to "King" to reflect the honor.
Manuel King, one of six children, romped with lion and bear cubs when little more than a toddler, a 1934 Popular Science magazine article describing his rising lion training career claimed. The elder King marked his son's 10th birthday with the gift of 10 lion cubs - and lessons from veteran one-armed lion trainer John "Chubby" Guilfoyle.
Guilfoyle, who reportedly had lost his arm in a lion mishap, had difficulty impressing upon the youth the potential treachery of his feline charges. Manny King, the magazine contended, routinely hugged his lions - a feat veterans of the craft considered "suicide." King's early performances resembled professional circus acts, the magazine said. "Not quite four feet tall, he seems a midget beside the roaring lions, but they obey him," the publication reported. "When they grow balky, he cracks the whip over them." When whip, chair or blank-loaded pistol failed to control the cats, King relied on his trusty helpmate, Trixie the sheep dog, who would nip the lions on the nose. From his early semi-professional shows to a full-time circus job, King worked as a lion trainer for more than 30 years. "He always stipulated that he was a 'trainer,' not a 'lion tamer,' " Barnett said. "You never can tame wild animals."
At age 12, King joined lion trainer-film star Clyde Beatty and actress Elaine Shepard in the Republic Pictures serial cliffhanger, "Darkest Africa," much of which was filmed on the King family's Rio Grande Valley property. The film's convoluted plot, involving a lost sacred city, a captive princess and strange bat-like creatures, doesn't warrant expenditure of much ink. It was one in a series of jungle films that enthralled early movie fans.Fort Worth cultural historian Michael Price, author of the "Forgotten Horrors" cinema-history series, said the chubby child star proved remarkably agile on screen. "On the surface he didn't look all that athletic," Price said, "but once he springs into action, he's as good as Beatty." Although King appeared in only one film, Price opined that he could have "had a franchise" as easily as Johnny Sheffield, who starred as "Boy" in a series of Tarzan pictures beginning in 1939. In later decades, King worked in an out of the circus business.
Barnett, now in her early 30s, was only months old when the family appeared at the State Fair of Texas as proprietors of a sideshow featuring snakes, "giant Russian rats" and a mummy. The mummy, recalled King's close friend and co-worker, James Judkins, later was reincarnated as a "space alien" in a subsequent King-operated midway presentation. "It's hard to capsulize an individual who was so unique," Judkins said. "When a circus was trying to find elephants, he'd round them up and transport them. When they needed someone on the flying trapeze or a contortionist, he'd find the act, negotiate the deal and get the people there. He was a problem solver. He would think outside of the box. He'd always come up with another idea, another idea, another idea."
King's show business career took him throughout the United States and Mexico. He settled in Houston in the late 1950s or early 1960s. King's engaging charm was on display when, 43 years ago last Friday, the circus man auditioned comely young women to work with elephants. In an unreleased film documentary of his life, King recalled asking a group of 10 candidates who would be interested in the position. All raised their hands. Then he inquired about how many would allow an elephant to carry them around the arena by the head. Only one raised her hand. The volunteer, a Mexican trapeze artist named Maria, got the job - and, nine months later, became King's third wife.
Though mentally and physically active until his final illness, King in his last years stayed closer to home, devoting time to his grooming and boarding business.
Toward the end, King, a man whose residence often was home to snakes, monkeys, elephants and donkeys, centered his love for animals on an African gray parrot and an "outdoor" cat. Three weeks ago, Barnett said, the cat disappeared. She didn't have the heart to tell her father the bad news.
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