Picture this: a group so tall, the convention planners have to Google “bus bathroom clearance” before even considering a venue. Contrary to the way it might sound, it’s not the world’s most sprawling basketball team assembly. This week, it’s the annual gathering of Tall Clubs International, as reported by NewsNation and also highlighted by News10, which has temporarily pushed the average Michigan resident a good few inches skyward.
In a League (of Altitude) of Their Own
At the heart of it, the Tall Clubs International convention welcomes more than 100 members who quite literally stand out from the crowd. NewsNation reports that membership requires men to be at least 6-foot-2 and women to clear 5-foot-10; as a result, you get a room full of people who could probably single-handedly ruin a magician’s “pick a card” trick (assuming the deck is on a standard-height table).
Ellen Bayer, who told NewsNation she stands “5-foot-22” (that’s just shy of 6-foot-10, for anyone dusting off their tape measure), put it wryly: attending the convention is one of the rare times she can truly see eye-to-eye with those around her. It’s hard not to chuckle at the thought of how many times she’s asked, “Do you play basketball?” or—inevitably—about the weather up there. In a quote carried in News10, Bayer adds that the gathering is “just a lot of fun,” and after seeing familiar faces year after year, “we’re like a family.”
Norma Forrest, a 6-foot-1 Canadian who, as described in News10, has attended nearly every convention since 1989, shared her origin story: “I was in a drug store and somebody really tall walked up to me and said, ‘You’re tall. Join the club!’ And I did, and it’s been amazing.” Forrest’s experience, meeting people across continents through the club, sets the tone for this singular gathering.
Founding Tall Tales
The club’s original spark could have leapt off a storyboard: Kae Sumner Einfelt, according to both News10 and NewsNation, was working as a colorist at Walt Disney Studios during the creation of “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.” Tired of height-related teasing at 6-foot-4, she reportedly placed an ad in a Los Angeles newspaper back in 1938, launching the very first tall club.
Club president Bob Huggett explained to NewsNation that the organization has seen as many as 50 or 60 clubs in the U.S. and Canada over the years, though “we’re about 33 right now.” He further told both outlets that club size has declined—now around 900 members—because, as he puts it, “People aren’t participating in clubs and stuff anymore as much as they used to.” The decline seems to echo a wider trend, but as Huggett remarked, those who stick around describe the conventions as “almost family reunions.”
Practicalities at Altitude
It turns out, being tall creates logistical puzzles that those closer to the ground rarely consider. Planning the convention, according to co-organizer Sue Morrison in News10’s report, requires factoring in things like “bus clearances, bus bathrooms, steps to places.” She noted a small victory for tall travelers: “One of the great things about Embassy Suites, if there’s any tall people watching, Embassy Suites’ showers are at 7-foot-4 in the bathroom.” That means, at least for one week, nobody is left stooping under a showerhead.
Dave Rasmussen, whose current height is “just” 7-foot-2 (down two inches from his peak), joked to WOOD—cited by both NewsNation and News10—that if he had a dollar for every time someone commented on his stature, he’d be a millionaire. Despite that constant attention, members emphasized the practical benefits of the club. “Clothing—we share notes on that. Also cars. Going to the theater, chairs. Ergonomics of chairs and stuff and flights and traveling … planes are terrible. We compare notes on all these things and try to make the most of it,” Rasmussen explained for NewsNation.
A Tall Family
Underneath the novelty, there’s a genuine sense of camaraderie that’s difficult to find elsewhere. As noted earlier by NewsNation, Dai Reynolds traveled from Great Britain and described making friends at the convention as becoming “one just big, happy family.” Pat Radloff, who met her late husband through the club and even honeymooned at another Tall Club convention in Vail, Colorado, now continues to attend as a way of keeping ties strong. She suggested bringing this year’s gathering to Grand Rapids, because, as she reflected via News10, “You have a dream and make it happen.” Planners chose family-run, Michigan-themed activities to give the event a sense of local flavor.
It all seems to invite a certain wistfulness. As previously reported by News10, the inception stories range from a chance drugstore encounter (“You’re tall. Join the club!”) to decades-spanning friendships. This sense of belonging, tinged with the everyday peculiarities of being tall—like swapping car recommendations or celebrating rare hotel showers—makes for a kind of mutual understanding unavailable almost anywhere else.
Why Conventions Like This Still Matter
In a world where most social gatherings have shrunk into screens and group chats, the Tall Clubs International convention offers something refreshingly analog and specific. Even with numbers declining from their postwar heyday, the current membership, as Huggett pointed out to NewsNation, still treasures the unique brand of togetherness found at these events.
Perhaps that’s the real takeaway: Sometimes you need a club for those who—by biology and design—don’t “fit” easily into most of the world’s boxes, airplane seats, or door frames. Next time you encounter someone who lives a little closer to the stratosphere, you might pause before the weather jokes and consider the hidden upsides of standing out. Is it so strange to think we could all, in our own way, use a place where the world is built to our proportion—if only for a week and a well-fitted showerhead?
