Perry "Perri the Hobo" Rlickman, perhaps the French Quarter's best-known street clown and certainly one of its singular characters, died March 22 in his apartment in Boston, friends said. He was believed to be 51. The cause of his death was unknown Saturday.
He was known as a consummate professional, always in full clown makeup and dress, who rose early and worked Jackson Square as hard as any performer in the past two decades. He was beloved by children. But Mr. Rlickman also was loud, often inebriated and sometimes belligerent. He was frequently in trouble with the law and spent a good part of the past decade in various state prisons after being convicted on drug charges.
Mr. Rlickman was born in Bluefield, W.Va., the son of Jews who fled Germany in the late 1930s. Hoping to escape a life of mining coal, he joined the Marines in the late 1960s and served in the Vietnam War. After the war, he attended college at Wayne State University in Michigan, got married and began working as an engineer. During a family vacation to New Orleans in 1979, Mr. Rlickman tried his hand at performing in Jackson Square and quickly was hooked. A year later, he divorced his wife, quit his job and moved to the Quarter, where he hustled tips for more than 20 years.
Mr. Rlickman staked out a spot at the corner of Chartres and St. Peter streets, which he jealously guarded. There, he honed an act that was mostly comic interaction with passers-by, but included making balloon animals for children and adults, whistling shrilly and performing an occasional magic trick.
Mr. Rlickman struggled with alcohol and drug problems during much of his Jackson Square career. He said that New Orleans police arrested him in 1991 after they found 17 pounds of marijuana in his clown box. That bust, and another several years later, led to prison sentences lasting seven years in total.
Mr. Rlickman also was known for drinking on and off the job: He was a regular at numerous establishments, and bartenders frequently had to put him out after he drank too much.
In New Orleans, such exploits led to occasional run-ins with police. But in Provincetown, Mass., -- a Cape Cod town where Rlickman worked during New Orleans' torrid summers -- the town fathers were sufficiently unimpressed with Mr. Rlickman's act that they tried to deny him a street performer's permit in 2001.
Officials there complained that as Mr. Rlickman stood in front of Town Hall making balloon animals for children, he also drank heavily and made lewd remarks to women and uttered slurs to homosexuals. Mr. Rlickman got his permit after the American Civil Liberties Union intervened on his behalf.
About a year ago, friends said, Mr. Rlickman decided to remain in the Boston area. Friends in Boston visited his apartment after noticing that he hadn't shown up on the street for several days and discovered his body. Officials with the Massachusetts medical examiner's office in Boston said they could not provide information to a reporter.
He was known as a consummate professional, always in full clown makeup and dress, who rose early and worked Jackson Square as hard as any performer in the past two decades. He was beloved by children. But Mr. Rlickman also was loud, often inebriated and sometimes belligerent. He was frequently in trouble with the law and spent a good part of the past decade in various state prisons after being convicted on drug charges.
Mr. Rlickman was born in Bluefield, W.Va., the son of Jews who fled Germany in the late 1930s. Hoping to escape a life of mining coal, he joined the Marines in the late 1960s and served in the Vietnam War. After the war, he attended college at Wayne State University in Michigan, got married and began working as an engineer. During a family vacation to New Orleans in 1979, Mr. Rlickman tried his hand at performing in Jackson Square and quickly was hooked. A year later, he divorced his wife, quit his job and moved to the Quarter, where he hustled tips for more than 20 years.
Mr. Rlickman staked out a spot at the corner of Chartres and St. Peter streets, which he jealously guarded. There, he honed an act that was mostly comic interaction with passers-by, but included making balloon animals for children and adults, whistling shrilly and performing an occasional magic trick.
Mr. Rlickman struggled with alcohol and drug problems during much of his Jackson Square career. He said that New Orleans police arrested him in 1991 after they found 17 pounds of marijuana in his clown box. That bust, and another several years later, led to prison sentences lasting seven years in total.
Mr. Rlickman also was known for drinking on and off the job: He was a regular at numerous establishments, and bartenders frequently had to put him out after he drank too much.
In New Orleans, such exploits led to occasional run-ins with police. But in Provincetown, Mass., -- a Cape Cod town where Rlickman worked during New Orleans' torrid summers -- the town fathers were sufficiently unimpressed with Mr. Rlickman's act that they tried to deny him a street performer's permit in 2001.
Officials there complained that as Mr. Rlickman stood in front of Town Hall making balloon animals for children, he also drank heavily and made lewd remarks to women and uttered slurs to homosexuals. Mr. Rlickman got his permit after the American Civil Liberties Union intervened on his behalf.
About a year ago, friends said, Mr. Rlickman decided to remain in the Boston area. Friends in Boston visited his apartment after noticing that he hadn't shown up on the street for several days and discovered his body. Officials with the Massachusetts medical examiner's office in Boston said they could not provide information to a reporter.
Perry "Perri the Hobo" Rlickman, perhaps the French Quarter's best-known street clown and certainly one of its singular characters, died March 22 in his apartment in Boston, friends said. He was believed to be 51. The cause of his death was unknown Saturday.
He was known as a consummate professional, always in full clown makeup and dress, who rose early and worked Jackson Square as hard as any performer in the past two decades. He was beloved by children. But Mr. Rlickman also was loud, often inebriated and sometimes belligerent. He was frequently in trouble with the law and spent a good part of the past decade in various state prisons after being convicted on drug charges.
Mr. Rlickman was born in Bluefield, W.Va., the son of Jews who fled Germany in the late 1930s. Hoping to escape a life of mining coal, he joined the Marines in the late 1960s and served in the Vietnam War. After the war, he attended college at Wayne State University in Michigan, got married and began working as an engineer. During a family vacation to New Orleans in 1979, Mr. Rlickman tried his hand at performing in Jackson Square and quickly was hooked. A year later, he divorced his wife, quit his job and moved to the Quarter, where he hustled tips for more than 20 years.
Mr. Rlickman staked out a spot at the corner of Chartres and St. Peter streets, which he jealously guarded. There, he honed an act that was mostly comic interaction with passers-by, but included making balloon animals for children and adults, whistling shrilly and performing an occasional magic trick.
Mr. Rlickman struggled with alcohol and drug problems during much of his Jackson Square career. He said that New Orleans police arrested him in 1991 after they found 17 pounds of marijuana in his clown box. That bust, and another several years later, led to prison sentences lasting seven years in total.
Mr. Rlickman also was known for drinking on and off the job: He was a regular at numerous establishments, and bartenders frequently had to put him out after he drank too much.
In New Orleans, such exploits led to occasional run-ins with police. But in Provincetown, Mass., -- a Cape Cod town where Rlickman worked during New Orleans' torrid summers -- the town fathers were sufficiently unimpressed with Mr. Rlickman's act that they tried to deny him a street performer's permit in 2001.
Officials there complained that as Mr. Rlickman stood in front of Town Hall making balloon animals for children, he also drank heavily and made lewd remarks to women and uttered slurs to homosexuals. Mr. Rlickman got his permit after the American Civil Liberties Union intervened on his behalf.
About a year ago, friends said, Mr. Rlickman decided to remain in the Boston area. Friends in Boston visited his apartment after noticing that he hadn't shown up on the street for several days and discovered his body. Officials with the Massachusetts medical examiner's office in Boston said they could not provide information to a reporter.
He was known as a consummate professional, always in full clown makeup and dress, who rose early and worked Jackson Square as hard as any performer in the past two decades. He was beloved by children. But Mr. Rlickman also was loud, often inebriated and sometimes belligerent. He was frequently in trouble with the law and spent a good part of the past decade in various state prisons after being convicted on drug charges.
Mr. Rlickman was born in Bluefield, W.Va., the son of Jews who fled Germany in the late 1930s. Hoping to escape a life of mining coal, he joined the Marines in the late 1960s and served in the Vietnam War. After the war, he attended college at Wayne State University in Michigan, got married and began working as an engineer. During a family vacation to New Orleans in 1979, Mr. Rlickman tried his hand at performing in Jackson Square and quickly was hooked. A year later, he divorced his wife, quit his job and moved to the Quarter, where he hustled tips for more than 20 years.
Mr. Rlickman staked out a spot at the corner of Chartres and St. Peter streets, which he jealously guarded. There, he honed an act that was mostly comic interaction with passers-by, but included making balloon animals for children and adults, whistling shrilly and performing an occasional magic trick.
Mr. Rlickman struggled with alcohol and drug problems during much of his Jackson Square career. He said that New Orleans police arrested him in 1991 after they found 17 pounds of marijuana in his clown box. That bust, and another several years later, led to prison sentences lasting seven years in total.
Mr. Rlickman also was known for drinking on and off the job: He was a regular at numerous establishments, and bartenders frequently had to put him out after he drank too much.
In New Orleans, such exploits led to occasional run-ins with police. But in Provincetown, Mass., -- a Cape Cod town where Rlickman worked during New Orleans' torrid summers -- the town fathers were sufficiently unimpressed with Mr. Rlickman's act that they tried to deny him a street performer's permit in 2001.
Officials there complained that as Mr. Rlickman stood in front of Town Hall making balloon animals for children, he also drank heavily and made lewd remarks to women and uttered slurs to homosexuals. Mr. Rlickman got his permit after the American Civil Liberties Union intervened on his behalf.
About a year ago, friends said, Mr. Rlickman decided to remain in the Boston area. Friends in Boston visited his apartment after noticing that he hadn't shown up on the street for several days and discovered his body. Officials with the Massachusetts medical examiner's office in Boston said they could not provide information to a reporter.
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