Mountain Memories is a fitting theme for this year’s State Fair of West Virginia. As I sit here typing, my mind is flooded with days gone by exploring the fair with friends and family. The smells, the sounds, the blistering heat, it all comes rushing back. I have attended the fair for as long as I can remember, going back to my days in a stroller. I cannot count the innumerable experiences I have had on those grounds. From tasting new foods and trying different rides to competing in the craft and food exhibits, I have learned so much.
One of the lessons I carry with me is to treasure every time you get to walk those grounds with someone you care about. When I was a child, my family seemed vast; aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, great-grandparents, great-aunts and uncles, my world was full of amazing people. One of the hardest parts of aging is losing family members. My huge family has now dwindled to only a handful. I am fortunate enough to still have blood family, as well as an incredible chosen family, but the losses still hurt.
With that being said, many of the memories that surface every time I think of the fair include those featuring people who are no longer here. I remember one particular year when I couldn’t seem to get the condiment packets open for my corn dog and my maternal grandmother tried her best to help me, but we both ended up wearing it instead.
I remember my paternal grandfather’s love of the roasted corn that is still available every year, and how he always insisted on buying everyone in the family an ear while we were there. I do not think I ever saw that man at the fair, that he did not have an ear of roasted corn in his hand. That paired with the hats he and my grandmother always wore to the fair made them easy to pick out of the crowd.
My great-aunt and uncle were the type that made sure you did not leave the fair hungry. I remember one year when my mom and I were with them. It has been so long that I no longer remember whether we went with them or met up with them after getting there. But I will never forget the food. They had gotten a blooming onion and asked if we wanted to share. We said yes and it was gone before you could blink. Laughing, my great-uncle said, “Well, looks like we need another one!” He went and bought two more! One for them and one for me and mom. Somehow, every bite of those two disappeared as well. As the last bites were disappearing, my great-aunt said we should have gotten an elephant ear too. My great-uncle agreed and off he went to buy one. By this point, we are all pretty full from the blooming onions, but when he brought the elephant ear back, we all had some.
Later, after walking around for a while, I being a young child started to take an interest in the candy apples and the cotton candy. My great-aunt and uncle noticed, asked what kind I liked, and bought an apple and the biggest bag of cotton candy I had ever seen (it still tops records to this day). I ended up taking most of the cotton candy home, but I’m pretty sure we ate something else before leaving.
I only had the privilege of being at the fair with my great-grandmother a few times and I was quite young. However, I distinctly remember her pink shorts, her striped shirt and her fanny pack. I also remember seeing her smile at one of the exhibits. I miss that smile, it was infectious.
For rides I either couldn’t or was too scared to go on by myself, my maternal grandfather was my go-to. He was my partner in crime for all things. Our favorite was a ride that has not been at the fair for years now. It was sort of like a small coaster, but it was a water ride and the cars looked like logs. We had to go on that ride at least once every year. We were both so disappointed the first time it was not there. Thankfully, it came back the next couple of years. What I wouldn’t give to ride that ride with him one more time.
After my sister was born, I became that person for her, the one who went on whatever ride she wanted, and, while I did not realize it then, I was so privileged to be that person for her.
There used to be one of those games where you throw darts at the balloons for prizes, but all of the prizes were porcelain dolls. I wanted one so badly, but I was terrible at the game. One year, my maternal grandmother wasted more money than it probably would have taken to buy a doll new, to win one for me. I was over the moon excited.
My mom and I have been to many fairs together, but there is one year that stands out. We went, just the two of us for the first time. We were used to going with a big group of mostly family. One particular person that was always there always wanted everyone to only eat the cheapest things, no extra spending, no frivolous purchases etc. and when someone did make a purchase they didn’t approve of, there would inevitably be an argument. When Mom and I went I had just gotten paid. We bought whatever we wanted to eat, bought whatever caught our eye and paid for every silly sideshow we came across. We had so much fun and felt so free doing whatever we decided to do in the moment without concern that someone would have something snarky to say.
Friends are a big part of the fair experience, specifically going to the fair with friends. As a young child, there are two specific friends I remember going with; one went with just my family and another, our families all went together. I remember going with the former and we played games and rode the rides. We ate greasy fair food. But the thing I remember the most is our smiles at the end of the day. I still have a photo of us somewhere that my grandma took, and it brings me joy every time I come across it. The elevation we felt that day is still held tightly in the photo.
The second friend and I were obsessed with this spinning teacup-style ride that was made to look like giant strawberries. Our mothers were not so fond of that one because it made them both sick, but they kept letting us go on it multiple times. We did not realize how they felt until years later.
In my late teens, I went with someone I considered one of my very best friends. We went with a large group, but once we were inside the grounds, everyone else seemed to disappear to do their own things. We stuck together, ate yummy food, rode several rides, played a game or two and generally enjoyed the day.
We have all grown up now. We have jobs. Some are married with children. Many have moved away. While nothing stays the same, some of us keep up with each other through Facebook. In other cases, we have drifted apart.
Of course, not all of my memories of the fair are great, some bring about other emotions. In one traumatizing incident, when I was young enough to only be allowed to ride the kiddy rides, I went to get in the line to get on. I was standing there blissfully unaware of what was about to happen. While the line was moving through, the operator and another man working at a different ride began to argue. Of course, at the exact moment, I get to the head of the line and try to hand the man my tickets, the two begin to fistfight. Thankfully, my parents and grandparents were close by the fence watching and noticing what was happening. My dad went over the fence that surrounded the ride, went in between the fighting idiots (we later found out it was over a woman they both wanted) and scooped me up getting me away from the danger area. I was later told that other parents standing in the same area said he shouldn’t have gone over the fence and interfered, but my dad has been in emergency services since he was 16, trained with the FBI, military and police. He also holds rank in Shotokan karate (I now have a higher rank than him), he did not care about two brawling dudes.
Even though that was a traumatizing moment, it is also my favorite memory of the fair with my father. Weird, I know, but it is true. What was even better though, was my grandpa retelling the tale. Every time, the two guys got taller and brawnier and dad jumping the fence became more and more of a maneuver straight out of an Arnold Schwarzenegger movie. Hmm, probably dated myself with that one, didn’t I?
If you made it this far, I hope you enjoyed my memories of The State Fair of West Virginia. I may have shed a few tears while going down memory lane. I hope you all make incredible memories with your loved ones this year! But keep in mind, even the worst memories can sometimes turn into a favorite moment. Hold your loved ones close and enjoy an ear of roasted corn in honor of my grandfather, I know I will.
The post More Than Cotton Candy: A Nostalgic Look at My West Virginia State Fair Experience appeared first on West Virginia Daily News .
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