The Phillyettes, Fire Batons and Flaming Double Dutch

Over the past four years of publishing The Vintage Twirler, I have come across baton twirlers performing in just about every imaginable setting. I have shared images of twirlers on ice skates, on horseback, and even mid-tap dance routine. But until today, I had never seen anything quite like this.

Fire Baton Twirling while jumping flaming Double Dutch jump rope. The Phillyettes, 1960s

“Jumping flaming ropes while twirling two flaming batons, Kathleen Clemens, 14, of the Phillyettes, performs during the Department of Recreation’s citywide talent show at John F. Kennedy Plaza. Marilyn Windisch (left), 13, and Patricia Miller, 12, turn the ropes. They represent Lawndale Playground.” August 18, 1967 (Temple University Urban Archives)

1967

In a 1967 photograph from the Temple University Urban Archives, members of the Phillyettes are doing something that feels almost unbelievable by today’s standards. The caption tells the story: 14-year-old Kathleen Clemens is jumping flaming ropes while simultaneously twirling two flaming batons. Turning the ropes are Marilyn Windisch, 13, and Patricia Miller, 12. They were there representing Lawndale Playground at a citywide talent show in John F. Kennedy Plaza.

Fire baton twirling has always been about showmanship, but combining it with double dutch rope jumping takes it into a whole different category of daring. Viewed through a modern lens, the image is both thrilling and astonishing. Safety standards in the 1960s were clearly not what they are today.

The Architect of the Spectacle

This brand of fearless performance was the signature of Barbara Fawcett Dalton (1937-2023). Operating out of the Lawndale Recreation Center, she turned a local baton corps into a disciplined, inventive machine. Barbara was no hobbyist. She was the first female drum major for Temple University’s Diamond Marching Band and a former Miss Majorette of America who understood that to get noticed, you needed a hook.

She was a true multi-hyphenate who judged competitions, wrote for trade magazines, and designed her own uniforms. She taught everything from puppetry to acrobatics because she didn’t just want her girls to march. She wanted them to command a stage.

Precision and Chaos

This wasn’t just reckless behavior. The Phillyettes were a championship-level team. They performed on ice skates while twirling fire and became staples on local TV programs like Chief Halftown. But when you play with fire, things eventually get hot.

During a 1973 performance for the Pennsylvania legislature, a flaming baton was dropped and a rope ignited a metal trash can. The proceedings paused just long enough to put out the fire with an extinguisher. Then, in true 70s fashion, the girls just kept going. It was a time when spectacle often outran caution.

A Legacy Beyond the Baton

Barbara’s influence went well beyond choreography. She was an active member of the National Organization for Women (NOW) and spent her time on voter registration and human rights campaigns. The same woman teaching girls to handle fire was teaching them that they had a serious place in a changing world.

The Phillyettes eventually faded into local history as Barbara moved on to the quieter rhythms of family life. But the artifacts she left behind remain incredible. We have grainy news clippings and photos of teenagers defying both physics and arson laws.

Does anyone actually have the footage?

We have the stills of these girls suspended over flaming ropes, but seeing it in motion is the real goal. We want to hear the sound of the fire whipping through the air and see the actual timing of the jump. Until that tape surfaces, we only have these snapshots of a time when the neighborhood playground was the hottest stage in town.