Going to the fair... Everybody within 50miles (slight exaggeration) goes to Centreville the third week of September. The most traffic we've seen around here since last year.
We wait in line, get across town, wait in line to get through the gate, follow the line of vehicles around the dirt trail, out to the old field, and finally find the parking spot for us.
Check list - money, sunglasses, coat, camera, chap stick, gum, cell phone, keys, tickets for wrist-band. Now, that's just for me, when the kids were little, the list went on and on...
For the last couple years, it hasn't been such an exciting idea, but when I was a kid, the fair was second only to Christmas. Our family was involved in 4-H. We took livestock, wood working, crops, ceremics, cooking, etc. It was fun trying the different craft and hobby projects. One year, I even sewed an outfit - I started it, but I'm pretty sure Mom's stitches held it together. We'd get our projects displayed and judged, then, we were off to the rides! When I was in my early teens, we spent as much time there as our parents would allow. We saved up all summer, and spent most of our hard earned money right there.
I still can’t believe the torture my body withstood – corn dogs for lunch, french fries and elephant ears for supper, and riding rides until they shut them down. One of my favorite rides was called the zipper – it was like the ferris wheel, only the wheel wasn’t round, and each car flipped over frontwards, or backwards as it pleased as the track went faster and faster. We were strapped in, and our little cage had bars to hang on to as we flipped over and screamed. The last time I rode it, our door wasn’t latched tight – each flip, it seemed to open a little bit more. My screams to the carny were covered by all the screams from the other riders, so he was oblivious, and I was petrified! We did make it to the end, I told him we almost died, and he laughed! Go figure – he didn’t take me seriously and shut down the ride right then. Well, the perfect ride wasn’t so perfect after that… I still like the scrambler, and tilt-a-whirl – they stay close to the ground, no need for a roll bar.
One year, Phil and I took 6 kids to the fair. We had a double stroller and wagon. What a workout! We started the adventure like Mom and Dad did with us. We would go through the animal barns, craft barns, got some food, ride the rides, then drag back to the van and collapse! We had a plan, but the plan didn’t include rain. We made it halfway to the rides, and the flood gates burst! Trying to get our little train through the crowd was an effort, then with the rain, the wheels got stuck in the mud. The kids cried, the rides got shut down and we called it a night. I’m so thankful we didn’t wait until the last day, and that my husband was brave enough for part two of the adventure. We didn’t take any chances, we went straight to the rides. After we survived that, it was time for food. Whew! Sometimes, making a memory wears me out!
We have plans to go tomorrow with our younger two boys, daughter, son-in-law, and grandson. It’s not supposed to rain, but we’ll probably ride rides first just in case. :)
Grandma and Grandpa’s House
I drive past their old house almost everyday. Sometimes I can’t help but think back to when we were little kids running around in the back yard.
The house looks different, its had a few owners since Grandma and Grandpa Reed moved to Sturgis all those years ago. They’ve replaced the porch steps we used to play stone school on and remodeled the inside, it doesn’t have the console stereo under the window, or the piano in the toy room. It does have a young family living inside for this first time probably since mom and her siblings were there. They decorate for the seasons and have the front curtains open. There are toys in the side yard, and maybe even a dog.
When we were young, we’d stop in after church, and have a big cookout once or twice in the summer with cousins, aunts and uncles and playing baseball in the back yard. Now, there’s another house in the back yard, and different neighbors all the way around.
I didn’t know every neighbor, but we sure had fun with Mr. Swihart across the street. He enjoyed it when we came over to visit - we’d share a story or two and he shared his treasures with us. More than once he’d collect his loose change, and let us go shopping with it - I remember one time, he gave us strict orders to go to the dime store and bring back enough for everyone to have a treat. We had a blast! Just walking up town was our adventure.
Tree lined streets, and saying “hi” to everybody along the way - we didn’t know them all, but they knew we were little Reeds, and would say hello. Uptown was only a block of buildings, but they were wonderful. The variety store had steps by the windows that we just had to go up and down each time, the barbershop sign really twirled its red and white stripes, the drug store had a pillars, and boardwalk doorway. Inside was everything - prescriptions, soda fountain, cards, hair ties, and shoe polish - they could even develop film.
The stores were known by their owners - Morhart’s Variety, Mable’s Five-n-dime, Root’s Drugstore, and Uncle Jerry’s Dry-cleaners (probably everybody didn’t call it “uncle” Jerry’s). across from Uncle Jerrys, was the library and community hall. The coolest thing was the entrance - it had an outside stairway - we’d race up, lean over the ledge to say “hi” to people walking by, and race down before they could get to the other side.
The names were even fun to say - Maurice Hecht, Robert Root, Sparky Burnside, Nadine Garner, - not everyday names, but when you say them, everybody knows who you’re talking about --- the Reed brothers were known too - some stories can’t be retold in front of the young, or timid… Ira, Bob, John, Ken and Clayton. Uncle Clayton went to college - guess he didn’t want to continue farming. Grandpa and a couple of the brothers owned a car dealership (that’s how mom and dad met - a whole story in itself). Uncle John changed the way the river runs thru Burr Oak, and developed a neighborhood. Grandpa and his girls started the school reunion and were the committee for the festival in the 70s.
Oh my, I’m getting old… I wonder what the kids today will remember about Burr Oak. Hopefully more than closed store fronts and people moving in and out of town before you know their name. Isn’t if funny after something is gone, you remember why you liked it in the first place. When I was young, I didn’t realize how special it was. I sure hope my kids smile when they think back on the days they went down the street to visit Grandpa and Grandma in Burr Oak.
Like the first day of school, or the first day of your long awaited vacation, the first entry of my very own blog is exciting - i'm probably gonna stumble a bit, but i'm starting!
Enjoy, come back often ;)
