Fall is the season for county fairs, and these days always bring up memories of my activities during the fair when I was growing up. It was a big event at our house, because the whole extended family was involved in one way or another.
My granddaddy was chairman of the fair for many, many years. I don’t know much about what he did, but I do know that we didn’t see a lot of him during that week. Now that I am on the fair board myself, I understand why! Mamma and Daddy both worked in the Young Farmer and Homemaker concession stand, meaning we were at the fairgrounds every night until closing time. I may be foggy about my memories, but it doesn’t seem to me that people worried quite as much about early bedtime when I was growing up as they seem to now. In fact, I don’t think folks worried quite as much about a lot of things as they do now.
The livestock shows were a big part of the fair back then, and our cattle, sheep and pigs were proudly displayed under the Maple Shade Farm signs. It took a couple of days to haul all of the entries to the old fairgrounds at Twomey, and a lot of work to get them ready for their public appearances. We didn’t have trailers then, so we hauled all the stock on a ton truck with tall sideboards.
There wasn’t much you could do with pigs, other than wash them and spray a little oil on them to make them shine, and the sheep were fairly easy to handle. The cattle had to be washed and brushed and taught to lead. This involved a lot of pulling, tugging and being pulled, tugged and dragged.
And there were all the other things to make. My friend Lynne and I used to get together to make all kinds of food we hoped would take a blue ribbon in the baking division. We would pore over the prize list and make lists of what we might make. Then Mamma and I would stay up half the night making the last minutes goodies like banana bread and pies and cookies. Sometimes we would have to make several batches before it came out just right. I’m sure everyone in the house got sick of banana bread a few times! We had already done some canning and jelly making, taking extra care with the jars destined for the competition. The beans had to be placed just right to show off how evenly they were broken and the jelly had to be extra clear of any imperfections. The canning section of the home economics department always looked so beautiful, with jars and jars of colorful fruits and vegetables nearly arranged to catch the light.
The cooking and crafts and sewing were fun, and profitable, but my real interest was in the cattle shows. There usually weren’t enough adults to show all the cattle in the championship classes, so I would be elected to help. Since the big bull was the easiest one to handle, he was usually my entry and I always felt proud to be able to show such a big animal. As I got older, I had my own little string of cattle. I remember the year my previous 4-H heifer had twin calves at fair time. There was a lot of oohing and aahing over the sweet little babies, and I think I remember that their mom won her class that year. Then, another of her offspring won the championship a couple of years later. I think that was the last really big cattle show we had down at the old fairgrounds. The facility out at Grinders Switch is much nicer than that old barn, but I still have such good memories of showing down there. The picture I have posted with this blog is of me and one of our calves in the old barn at the fair when I was about six. What I mainly remember about this photo shoot is that my mom got after my daddy because he didn’t tell me to take my sweater off for the picture!
I remember the old concession stands up on the hill overlooking the midway. They were built of wood and looked old and rickety even when I was a child so I have no idea when they were built. The exhibit building was old too, with squeaky wooden floors, windows that were usually open to try and catch any breeze available on those hot August days. And the basement, where corn, pumpkins, hay, tobacco and other vegetables and fruits were displayed, was always a little spooky to me.
Near the end of the fair, they paid our prize money for the ribbons we had collected. That was my fair money and I could ride the rides and eat cotton candy and caramel apples to my heart’s content, or however long my money held out. The fair organizers were pretty smart to pay us in cash because they knew they would get a lot of the money back!
All good things must end, and I remember the sadness I felt when we made the last trip up the hill and I caught one last glimpse of the ferris wheel as we traveled up toward the square. I’m sure my granddaddy and parents were heaving a sign of relief that it was over, but at that time, I would have been happy to have the county fair happen several times a year.
