THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Thursday, October 19, 1995 TAG: 9510190365
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: NORTH CAROLINA
SOURCE: BY SARAH M. WEEKS, STAFF ARTIST
LENGTH: Long : 123 lines
When I was a teenager, I used to go religiously every year to the State Fair to show my horse in the 4-H events and see the sights with my high school FFA group. But I haven't been there in almost 10 years.
Every year since we moved back to North Carolina, I have promised my husband, Scott, that we would go together. So when I was offered an assignment to illustrate the fair from my point of view, any way I wanted to, I jumped on it.
We got an early start Saturday morning, before the roosters were up. The sun was just rising as we crossed the Chowan River. Scott remarked how beautiful the sunrise was.
It was one of those celestial sunrises that reminded me of an old calendar that used to hang in the back of a country store in Weeksville. The calendar had a portrait of a child praying with a pinkish-golden sky in the background. I used to wonder who the little girl was as I waited for my buddy, Eric, to decide what candy he would buy with the dollar his mom gave him.
It was a pleasant drive to Raleigh. The leaves hadn't changed yet, but no matter - the company was good, as always, and the traffic was light.
Scott and I had our usual conversations about the crops that were whizzing by our windows.
``Hey Hon, isn't it about time for the farmers to `cut' the cotton?'' he asked.
I was raised in Weeksville, so I found this rather funny. I don't know how many times I've told that man: You cut cabbage, you pick cotton and corn, you dig taters and you call it ``bacca'' across the Chowan River!
Scott is from St. Louis, so I guess I'll just have to show him, I thought. It was about then that I realized the State Fair was going to be a hoot for me maybe more than for him.
We weren't in the gate five seconds before I was flooded with memories from fairs past. I remembered coming to the fair every year while I was in high school. I was president of the FFA, and it was all but mandatory that you attend.
Mr. Oliver, our FFA adviser and agriculture teacher, would load up a bus full of budding young farmers all decked out in corduroy blue jackets, and off we would go to Raleigh.
Each year before loading the bus, Mr. Oliver would give his standard speech. It went something like this:
``This is supposed to be an educational trip, so please try to visit the demonstrations and booths. Stay in groups of two or more. If you get lost, report to the Red Cross station; we will find you. Don't spend all of your money in the midway, and above all, you fellas, stay out of the hoochie coochie shows!''
He said it all without taking a breath.
It still makes me laugh today. I knew inevitably that two hours after his speech we would find Mr. Oliver cruising the midway. The temptation was overwhelming: I would sneak along behind him and wait until he had walked right up in front of one of those shows he had warned us about and yell, ``Whatcha doing, Mr. O?''
He would swing around like a fox caught in a hen house. We all knew he would turn red as a tomato and stammer, ``I . . . I . . . was just check'n on them boys.''
Yep, I had a lot of fun at the State Fair back then; I met two of my first boyfriends there. Unfortunately, they lived in the western part of the state. I got to see them only a couple of times a year - much to my father's delight. If I was lucky, I might see them at the state convention, at FFA camp at White Lake, or if both our teams made it to the livestock finals.
I finally drifted back to the present, and my husband and I proceeded to enjoy the fair. It was balmy with an occasional shower, but it didn't slow us down one bit. We saw the ``world's largest'' steer, pig, alligator and horse and the ``world's smallest'' horse.
Oh yes, there was also ``the world's only half woman-snake.''
But Mr. Oliver would have been proud; we found that most of the fair was educational. We saw a lumberjack and an iron foundry demonstration and a horticultural exhibit, and we toured all of the livestock buildings.
We panned for gems and brought home a sandwich bag full of the precious stones - precious in memories at least. We toured the art gallery and wandered through the village of yesteryear, where my husband commissioned an artist to make a cross to replace the one he lost some time ago.
The cross made it all the way through the Gulf War, only to be lost while he was getting X-rays at a dentist office. Go figure. The artist created a duplicate from a sketch that I provided.
Next, we went to ogle colossal watermelons and pumpkins. We trailed past a pantry full of cakes, potatoes, beans, yams, hams, pies, preserves and just about everything you could possibly put into a jar.
We were impressed by the mounds of intricate quilts, needlework and lace. We listened to the salespeople tell us how we could not live without their great products. They dice, they slice, remove stains, keep ice off your windshield and even cut through a beer can. Wow!
Well, Momma survived without them; I guess I can, too.
By now, Scott was getting a little impatient. He had absorbed enough culture and wanted to see the Copenhagen truck and tractor pull. I reluctantly went with him.
At the gate we had to stop to get our free can of Copenhagen and green Barlow knife and be put on a mailing list for life.
We finally went in and found a seat. I must admit that even though it was loud and the air was thick with testosterone, I had fun. I found myself screaming, cheering and even whistling once or twice when Terry Noblitt of Camden and Ken Whitley of Elizabeth City pulled.
There is just something about rooting for the hometown boys - you have to do it.
If you have been planning to go to the fair, don't put it off. Hear the hum of the hawkers above the buzz of the crowds. Smell the popcorn and sweet cotton candy. Taste the barbecue, the funnel cakes, the Italian sausage. Touch the soft fur of an angora rabbit or the wool of a lamb. Root for the hometown boys and girls as they show their livestock.
But remember, if you go this year or any other year:
Visit the demonstrations; stay in groups of two or more; if you get lost, report to the Red Cross station; don't spend all of your money in the midway; and above all - stay out of the hoochie coochie shows! MEMO: The North Carolina State Fair in Raleigh continues through Sunday.
Highlights include the horse show and dairy cattle show on Friday, the
dairy cattle show and folk festival Saturday, and a folk festival and
harness racing Sunday. Tickets are $6 for adults, $1 for children 6
through 12, and free for children 5 and under. Senior citizens over 65
are free.
ILLUSTRATION: Drawings by Sarah M. Weeks
by CNB