This group has been juggling for joy at Castro Valley Station for nearly two decades

Al Franz juggling at Castro Valley Station during a Tuesday evening meetup in July.

“It’s fun, it’s social, we juggle.”

Those six words, spoken by juggler Tony Flusche, provide a neat summary of the Castro Valley Jugglers Association’s group agreements, if the CVJA had formal agreements. 

A good motto for a juggler’s physicality might be loosey-goosey; you’ve got to keep your body and mind focused and relaxed when you’re lobbing balls and clubs (the props that look like bowling pins) and flaming torches into the air (and over people’s heads) then catching them. 

It’s also an apt motto for a group of jugglers who’ve been meeting informally to practice and swap clubs at Castro Valley Station for just about two decades. The association meets every single week in the free area of the station – under the rotunda – from 6pm to 8:30pm or so. Members of the group – before they began practicing at Castro Valley Station – performed at the station’s official opening in 1997. 

“Sometimes we get up to 30 people at a session; sometimes no one shows up at all,” said juggler James Johnson. “Sometimes we’re the Castro Valley Sit and Gab Association.”

Johnson is a former student of Louis Kruk, a longtime Physical Education teacher at Canyon Middle School in Castro Valley. He’s the main throughline that connects this ragtag group of juggling fiends. 

Louis Kruk is pictured juggling at Castro Valley Station during a Tuesday evening meetup in July. 

When he was a middle school teacher, Kruk would interject a juggling unit between more traditional sporting units, like football and volleyball. He himself learned to juggle after he was gifted the classic instructional book Juggling for the Complete Klutz on a snowy Christmas in Tahoe many decades ago (The Klutz book, still in print, released its 30th anniversary edition in 2007). 

The thing about juggling is it’s best to do with other people. Alone, you can toss the balls up and down, up and down, add and subtract clubs, and introduce certain elements, like unicycles or fire. But in the company of others, you can practice different, complex patterns. 

“Passing clubs is the social activity of jugglers,” Kruk said. “I can stay home and juggle, or I can come here and pass clubs. If you mess up in a weird way, we’ll still have fun with that.”

On some Tuesday evenings after school, Kruk would open the school gym to students and local adults who wanted to juggle with each other. Kruk, now 78 and long retired, said he was selfishly motivated in some ways; he wanted folks to pass clubs with, too. At these meetups, if you didn’t know how to juggle already, people would teach you the basics and then integrate you into their passing patterns.

After Kruk retired, school administrators wanted him to start renting the gym more formally. So, he decided to change venues. Castro Valley Station was the ideal spot: easy to get to, centrally located, well-lit, and protected from the elements, including every juggler’s kryptonite – wind. 

“Look at this place, it could be pouring down rain and you can still juggle,” he said. 

The jugglers not only entertain riders – and are careful to stay safely out of the way of people entering and exiting the station – but serve as an extra set of ears and eyes for the Station Agent on duty, Kruk said. 

Norman Hollis, a BART System Service Worker stationed at Castro Valley, is fond of the jugglers himself. 

“They’re here every Tuesday. It’s truly amazing what they do,” he said. “It brings the community together; a lot of people stop to watch.”

A rider leaving Castro Valley Station stops to watch the jugglers on a Tuesday evening meetup in July. 

On this particular Tuesday, the group began with three men. They warmed up with a basic four count – 1 2 3 4, 1 2 3 4, 1 2 3 4 – and then practiced their two counts. As the clubs flew overhead, hand to hand, they melted into a sort of cosmic mush in which it was no longer clear which club came from where and whose hand. When one juggler dropped a club, the rest of the jugglers kept on, adapting the pattern until the juggler who dropped could jump back in. Throughout, the group made casual conversation, often swapping barbs of the dad-joke ilk. 

The light plastic clubs look like Space Age versions of the wooden club Bamm-Bamm Rubble tosses over his shoulder in The Flintstones. When the clubs hit the ground, which they inevitably do, they bounce and make a sort of hollow clang sound. Members of BART Communications were assured the clubs do not hurt if they land on you (assurances we were given before we were conscripted to briefly stand in the center of a juggling pattern, clubs whirling past our heads). 

Jugglers toss clubs around a willing member of BART Communications at Castro Valley Station during a Tuesday evening meetup in July.

“Y’all comfortable with Havana?” one juggler asked the small group. They got into formation: three jugglers standing on one side with one facing them. Then they rotated around each other as if waltzing, tossing clubs all the while. 

A few minutes into the practice session, another juggler appeared. 

“Ray, get your clubs out,” barked Flusche. "Now we can do a star.” 

By 6:30pm, six jugglers had shown up. It’s decided they will practice a “sweep feed,” where a feeder passes each feedee a club along the line from left to right then right to left – you sort of have to see it to get it. 

“At parades, we do this with torches!” said Flusche, the consummate showman of the group. 

Tony Flusche is pictured juggling at Castro Valley Station during a Tuesday evening meetup in July.

Flusche joined the association in 1995 after meeting Kruk through a juggling course he was teaching at Castro Valley Adult School. Flusche pointed out that many of the jugglers’ bonds run deep. For example, “Joe and I unicycle together,” he said. 

Johnson, Kruk’s former middle school student, said he found juggling during a college speech class, in which the teacher demonstrated informative speech by giving a talk on how to juggle. The class then juggled.

Fastforward some years, and Johnson finds himself with an Australian cattle dog that likes to run. He buys the dog a pack of 47 tennis balls and takes him to the park, passing the time by tossing the balls for a fetch and juggling them, too. (“Tennis balls are terrible to juggle with,” he noted).

One day, a neighbor came over and said, “I’ve seen you juggling...you should check out this group.” So, Johnson did, only to find out it was run by Kruk. 

“I was terrified of him! Sports were not my thing in school,” Johnson said of his former teacher. The two have now set aside their sporting differences.

James Johnson is pictured juggling at Castro Valley Station during a Tuesday evening meetup in July.

Another juggler in attendance was Bob Mendelsohn, a former pro-juggler who hasn’t “been a pro juggler in this century,” he said. He revealed he once juggled on a unicycle around the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers. He juggles just for fun now. 

The swashbuckling cast of characters are obviously unified by a singular passion – a singular passion that’s best shared with others. There is plenty of room for jugglers in the group, seasoned or klutzy, he added. 

“I’ll start a pattern with any juggler who shows up. If you’re passing by, I might ask you to join us, too,” Kruk said. “Even if you don’t have great skill, we can always find a spot for you."