The publicity attracted many new members to the IJA, whose roster included about 100 people by the end of 1949. The second convention that year was also held in

Jamestown, and this time was covered by Life magazine. 

At the second festival, members decided to publish an IJA Newsletter to supplement Montandon's "Juggler's Bulletin." The first issue, which appeared in the fall of 1949, included an audit of IJA funds. It noted that the convention show grossed $846.40, and that net proceeds after expenses were $348.18. Half of that went to the American Legion, which provided the facilities, and the IJA treasury netted $174.09. That cash wouldn't last long, however. The next Newsletter noted that it cost the organization $44.15 to mail issues to the 170 members on the Roster. 

Yielding to the IJA Newsletter Montandon ceased publication of the "Juggler's Bulletin" following its 52nd issue that fall, though he did publish a "Juggler's Annual" into the mid-1950s. 

Besides the early festivals, (69 of 225 members attended the 1950 festival, which was again held in Jamestown, and it netted the treasury only $174) Jennings organized several picnic get-togethers for jugglers. Bobby May, whom Jennings describes as "a brother," attended some of these gatherings, but was among many jugglers who didn't believe that an organization was in their best interest. "Despite my arguments to the contrary, he and a some other pros thought it would quicken the demise of juggling by attracting more people to practice it and therefore increase competition for jobs," Jennings said. "Put yourself in 1947 when each week there were fewer places to work. That caused problems." 

Jennings was elected as president for the first couple of years, but then bowed to pressure from members who accused him of trying to run a one-man show. Vin Carey, who owned a magic shop in Baltimore and wasn't actually much of a juggler, was elected president to succeed Jennings. Stuart Raynolds served in 1954. 

The new group foundered early on. In late 1952 there was very little money in the treasury, and the December 1952 edition of the Newsletter was not published due to a lack of  funds. In late 1953 the Newsletter noted that about 40% of members were not current with their dues, but Newsletters were still being mailed to them. That altruism ceased early the next year, when scofflaws were dropped from the roster.

Jennings couldn't shake the feeling that the IJA was his "baby." That sentiment has both blessed and haunted him throughout his life. 

Other people important to the young organization were its first historian, Eva Crosby, who was Doc's wife. Doc Baldwin, Doc Crosby, Stuart Raynolds and Jennings financed the IJA's few years. 

Keeping the fledgling organization afloat was very much a labor of love. There were frequent appeals in the Newsletter asking members to pay their $1 annual dues. Jennings wife, Ruth, did most of the work along with the young Raynolds, who was living with the Jennings at "400" while working on his Ph.D. at Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh. 

Raynolds was an excellent technical juggler, and he and Jennings did an act together for a while called, "Happy Dayze and Grandma." Jennings came on stage and told the audience he was caring for his grandmother, then brought out Raynolds dressed as an old lady and sat her in a rocker with her knitting behind him on stage. They had wrapped croquet balls with yarn, and as Jennings did ball tricks on stage, "Grandma" would do something better which only the audience could see with her balls of yarn behind him. When Jennings would turn to see what the audience was laughing at, Raynolds would drop his balls into the knitting basket and pick up his needles. 

Raynolds never pursued juggling as a profession, but became a noted chemical engineer whose fiberglass clubs became a standard in the field of juggling in the 1960s. He is also a good violin maker, a bagpipe player, and co-developer of the artificial heart. 

So in the 1950s as American vaudeville houses began to close down, good performers went to Japan or Europe or South America to find work. Jennings himself found less theatre work and more special event work. He made good money putting together Christmas shows for several years that played corporate parties for two weeks during the holidays. Corporations also put together their own shows. Jennings worked for Sealtest Milk, which sponsored children's shows around the country where admission was a certain number of milk carton tops. On one occasion the star of the show was Hopalong Cassidy, who circulated slowly through the crowd throughout the show signing autographs and shaking every hand as Jennings and the entertainers on stage paced their acts to his progress. 

From 1950-1955 Jennings worked for Idlewild Amusement Park. The owners asked him to create a character that represented the park, and put on promotional shows for community groups and schools. That was the impetus for Jennings to become "Happy Dayze" on stage. He earned $300-$400 a week working at the park two shows a day for six days a week. 

Other old vaudevillians may have been struggling, but by 1955 Jennings had plenty of savings - enough for the proverbial rope to hang himself! Jennings decided to build his own theme park outside of Pittsburgh, which he called Story Book Forest. "My park had no rides, it was based on emotion, not motion," he said. "I didn't even have a concession stand at first. It was a walk in the woods, my impression of my favorite nursery rhymes. You saw a castle from the highway, then walked up through the woods and came to a bas relief clown welcoming you. You saw scenes such as Humpty Dumpty, and Peter Rabbit and his house built on a stump. I had an old- fashioned clock with a loud "tick-tock" that echoed through the woods. You came to a big Alice's keyhole, the Three Little Pigs House, a big pumpkin, the Old Lady in the Shoe, Hansel and Gretel, the Three Billy Goats Gruff, Jack and the Beanstalk, and a pirate ship that was a 3/4 scale of the Mayflower." 

He even ended up raising deer there. And though it was a marvelous idea in the beginning, Story Book Forest was beset with many technical and construction problems. It experienced human problems with vandalism, bureaucratic problems with government agencies, and tax problems with the Internal Revenue Service. It also was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back of his marriage. 

Art decided in 1960 to sell out and go West to make a new start. "One frustrating day I called my attorney and told him to sell everything I had." 

The attorney did just that, and Jennings packed up what was left in his office and got ready to head toward Hollywood, where he had just signed a contract to work school shows. He was 46 at the time. He was cleaning out the office with the help of his 21-year-old secretary, Carol, when he called out to her, in hurt and despair, "Why the hell don't you marry me and come along?" 

His feelings for her were evidently mutual, because she said "Yes" and they began 27 of the happiest years of Art's life.

Art Jennings with his second wife, Carol, shortly before he attended the IJA's 40th festival in 1987

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