A tale of sex, greed and Filipinos on Coney Island

Coney Island was made of tall tales. The birthplace of the hot dog and the roller coaster, it was the poor man’s paradise, offering sensation for a nickel. By the early twentieth century, it was America’s most popular sea-side resort.

In reality, the Igorrotes only ate dog meat on special occasions like weddings, funerals, and after a successful head-hunting foray, but Truman had a showman’s impulse not to let the facts interfere with a good story.

Do the boys hunt heads? someone in the crowd wanted to know. But before Truman could answer, Fomoaley let out a yell. The Igorrotes laid down their tools. One by one they walked forward and began to form a circle around Fomoaley, who stood erect. Truman informed the crowd that this man was the tribal chief. Quietly at first, Fomoaley began to utter

Over the coming weeks, the Igorrotes cemented their reputation as Coney’s biggest attraction. The public couldn’t get enough of them. Those who could afford to returned again and again. Some visitors had favorite Igorrotes, typically children, for whom they brought gifts and money. There were offers of adoption, education, and patronage. They recei

Just ten miles from downtown Manhattan, metropolis of the modern age, Stone Age men and women were living in a village by the sea.

Egged on by Truman, Fomoaley pushed to the front and puffed out his chest as he posed for the cameras. Around his neck the chief wore strings of beads decorated with what looked like human hair. Truman pointed out the tattoos on his body, which indicated his prowess as a headhunter. This was not the first time several of the photographers had stood

Less than a week after the opening of the Igorrote Village, a woman turned up in a state of agitation, claiming her beloved dog, Prince, had been devoured by the Filipinos. According to Mrs. Mary Jackman, she had been visiting Luna Park with Prince and, after she was distracted by a circus performer, she turned around to find her pet dog had gone.

Under their agreement with Truman, along with their monthly wages of fifteen dollars each, they could keep all the money they raised from selling souvenirs — rings, bracelets, necklaces, earrings, textiles, spears, and shields.

Truman Hunt was usually cool under pressure. But today was different. After more than six months of planning, it was almost time for the show to begin. He could hardly wait. The Igorrotes were going to be the talk of Coney Island. No, of the nation. Before they left the train, he gave them a pep talk. Truman was an enthusiastic, if sometimes inexac