October always brings memories of the Escambia County Fair in Atmore during my youth in the 1950's.
Crops had been grown, vegetables from gardens were canned in mason jars awaiting their need. Cotton and corn had been harvested, sold or cribbed. Peanuts were being dug for market or livestock. Sweet potatoes were either dug and banked or being. Cane was waiting for the end of the month to be stripped, cut, hauled and squeezed of juice for syrup making. Hogs were still fattening until colder weather in November for the big butchering. Things were slowing down on farms all over the place. Pecans were dropping, as were leaves from every kind of tree or bush. The small insects were making a constant crescendo of sounds. The air was cooling and crisping.
October was bringing us joy in anticipation of the County Fair.
We had saved back a few dollars from our cotton picking earnings for this special event. Daddy had promised to take us to the fair on Friday night if all went well. It always did...........go very well.
We had listened to the radio station to hear how all the 4-H projects were stacking up down there. Kids with show calves, pigs, chickens, and occasionally a goat, sheep or rabbit. A pony was there on the midway for the little kids to ride, otherwise I can't remember any in the judging. Mostly calves and pigs for judging.
More 4-H projects showed skills by young girls in their trousseau building assisted by pushy mothers. The 1950's groomed young girls to be wonderful cooks and housekeepers. Have mercy! We changed all that by burning our bra's in the 1960's. "Free at last", or something to that effect.
Ladies Home Demonstration Clubs had display's of dresses, quilts, tatting, crochet, knitting, and smocking. Jams, jellies, and preserves. Yeast breads, cakes, pies and cookies were lined on shelves to be judged and hung with those coveted blue ribbons.
Farmers brought their prize stalks of corn and cotton to show the most number of ears or boles.
REA had wonderful shiny appliances in mock kitchens that made Mama look wistful.
Ladies, lips red with Helena Rubenstine, wearing high heeled pumps and new aprons, free of grease spots were demonstrating those shiny white and chrome appliances while using Saladmaster cookwear for converting recipes into mouth watering delights.
McCormick, Case and John Deere had tractors showing skills to Duck Head overall wearing old men. Testosterone driven FFA boys did demonstration of the machinery as the County Agent and Ag teachers cringed.
Barns were filled to capacity with things that farm and town folk competed for blue ribbons and pictures in the local news papers for.
Best of all was the midway.
Ferris wheel, Merry-Go-Round, Tilt-A-Whirl, Bumper Cars, Gut Slinger, Fun House, Guess Your Weight, Motorcycle Barrel Racing, Shooting Booth, Ring Toss, Fish Pond, Mallet Banger, Plate Pitch, all manner of prizes to be won were stamped with, "Made in China". And the forbidden Peep Show tent where a "Hoochie Coochie" dancer was wiggling and shaking her assets to lure in the creeps. Signs with a picture of a super obese, bearded lady led us to believe she may have been inside waiting with mysterious revelations. Our nickels bounced off amber plates, we pitched anyway.
A scarf wearing, gold earring and stacks of bangles, Gypsy fortune teller had our future all lined out with numbers of children and handsome husbands with fortunes waiting if we had the price of a ticket. Older friends had told us that when they had their palm read and the future revealed, the shifty eyed Gypsy would gasp and look shocked as she called to them, "come back, come back, I have a private message for you". They were way too cool to be snookered again. I was warned to stay away from all that mess. Mama and our Bible warned about that kind of thing. Daddy promised us a whipping.
Food booths served hotdogs, hamburgers, cotton candy and funnel cakes. The smells made us weak. We ate, rode the Gut Slinger and lost our hotdogs. FUN!!! Worth it all, every time.
All week we got onto the school bus to hear from the anointed ones about what they rode last night and would ride again tonight. I fought to stay calm.
Finally!
Friday night came. Our turn. Just before we loaded and started off to our night of wonderful we watched as the Butler family passed down the road heading to the Fair. They ALWAYS started about an hour before our family. Mr. Butler owned a1950 International Harvester flatbed truck with body rails up to cab high. The Butler kids loaded by stepping on the big gas tank attached just behind the driver side door to crawl over the railings into the bed. The Butlers had as many kids as our family did. They were friendly and full of energy. They waved and hollered as they passed our house. I was sick with envy.
The roads leading into Atmore from every direction were filled with cars and trucks of every make and model heading to the Fair.
As the traffic flow slowed to a crawl waiting for those ahead to find parking , our patience gave way to us jumping off the truck bed to run ahead with Mama hollering out to warn us to stay together and meet back at the gate by 10:00 p.m.
"Stay together, not me, I'mma find my friends".
I knew one thing for certain when I made it to the Fair, Betty Jean Butler would have already cased the place, been full of information and flat broke by the time I got there.
My self esteem already low from having seen the Butler clan pass by our house, was lowered even more when she sauntered up to ask me for a dime. Telling her I was broke and cutting away to hide in the exhibit barns until she found another sponsor, I was guilt ridden, but holding on.
I talked my brother Humpy into riding the Ferris Wheel with me by paying for his ticket. I could feel my body tingle as we ascended to the top where the thing stopped for more loading. We swung back and forth while looking down on Atmore and Humpy pointed out the direction to our old house on third avenue.
Looking down on the midway at the crowds of people, I spotted Betty Jean with a new target, my friend that I had been looking for. Dang it!!!
I walked by cute boys wearing leather jackets and smoking camels with Jerris slicked hair, couples hand holding and giggly, dull eyed carney boys raising brows to indicate, "Come hither my lovely". Mama had warned us about carnival Gipsy's. "They steal little kids".
Music from show tents filled the midway as did flashing lights of every color.
Roar of that motorcycle in the barrel was deafening.
A rickety plank stage used by the likes of Elvis and Johnny, Jerry Lee and Merl, singing "love gone wrong" songs, but nowhere near that talent waiting out there somewhere. This particular time was just at the cusp of Elvis entering the building. Lordy, the tsunami was coming, just not here quiet yet.
Time gave way to broke. Not finding my best friend, I walked about with second choice, a group from school that were doing the same thing. All of us had emptied our pockets and decided to go look at cakes in the exhibit barn.
Blue ribbons, red ribbons, and honorable mentions. Cocoanut cakes showed signs of bluish green mold forming around the bottom. Garnish of greens were limp and drying, dust from the shavings on the walkway covered everything. Smells from the livestock barns drifted through.
The time for meeting back at the gate for headcount was nearing. I was still on a high from all the things I saw and did at the County Fair.
The ride home was always fun because we shared our experience and mishaps. Humpy won three amber Depression Era plates for Mama. I won a little dog statue. I may have lost brain cells from licking the sweet taste off that dog. It had, "Made In China" stamped on the bottom.
