LET’S GO TO THE FAIR
Fall is Fair Time throughout the nation.
Fairs are not so numerous as they seem to have been not too long ago. The ones remaining are largely in rural areas or in larger cities which are dependent on agricultural income from the surrounding area.
The first fair I remember attending was in Norfolk, Virginia, a costal city far removed from what we thought of as being farm land. I remember seeing chickens, ducks, cattle, hogs and other farm animals, but the
main events of the fair for me, and, I suppose, for the adults who took me, was racing. In all its forms - racing was the feature I most remember.
I liked horse races but they seemed to be over too soon. The excitement was so short-lived it was all over before I could identify with a favored horse and rider. I still feel that way. Too fast.
My favorite was harness racing ... the sulkies!
A driver was seated on a narrow, rather precarious shelf, perched there between the spinning wheels and immediately to the rear of the horse. From that “roosting” area, he encouraged his horse to drag the cart
around the track with seeming abandon. The driver was always intent to try to take advantage of any flaw he could detect in the other driver’s movements. Very often the horses seemed to angticipate what wsas likely to happen
and what they were expected to do. More skill seemed to be required in harness racing, and not all of it was predictable, either.
There was a suprising hushed sound and lack of loud noise with the harness racing, too. There was the soft whirring of the wire wheels. The sound of rapidly beating hooves pounding the dirt track. Bursts of cheers
and jeers from the crowd watching; fear expressed that a cart might topple over at times - with good reason. The light carts would leave the track surface for a second or so, and the driver would lean in toward the inner rail until
sometimes they look like a racing schooner man at sea leaning out over the water.
The carts weighed well over a hundred pounds in the ealry 1800’s when they replaced racing wagons. Over the years they have lost weight until today they weigh in at about forty pounds. I have often thought
that if the seat were a solid strip of metal rather than the weight-saving strips, the contraption might become airbourne with the seat acting as a wing. Around 1872 a bow-shaped axle was invented and form the bike-like cart
which is the prevailing type today. The design enabled the horses to run even more eagerly, since they lost their natural fear of clipping their heels on axles, when they really felt like turning loose.
Ocasionally, a cloud of dust trailed after each passing group, but most tracks had a sprinkler wagon to wet the place down a bit before the acutal running.
My first and only early experience with automobile racing ended in a tragedy. To this day I have mixed feelings concerning car racing of any kind and I keep re-living that initial experience.
The car in that race was a boxy-looking “Maxwell, probably a 1921 or ‘22 mode cut down and soiued-up as a racer. It was painted a violent, fire-engine red and it was quite visible as it came roaring down toward
the grandstand. It was leading the pack by seveal lengths and, then, just as it started into the curve to our right, it swerved suddenly,
and did an end-over
-end tumble. It took to top layer of hay bales forming a barricade of bales of hay erected to protect concession stands of the fair beyond. It landed on a “kewpee doll” concession tent and burst into flames. The driver was killed but
it seems to me the two people in the tent got out in time.
To this day , I find it all coming back as I try to watch stock car racing and other vehicular competitions on TV. I sometimes think this might be another case of: too much ...too soon. Kids are not grown-ups. We
need to remind oursleves of that from time-to-time.
A.L.M. August 16, 2002 [c-714wds]
