Fowlerville Fair returns

... bringing with it all of the familiar sights, sounds, smells, and tastes

  In 1886—50 years after the first white settlers had begun arriving in this part of western Livingston County and emulating what other communities had done—several townspeople decided to establish the Fowlerville Agricultural Society.

  This was done for the purpose of organizing a fair. Which they did the following year.

   A small piece of land west of the village, and just west of the Red Cedar River, was chosen. Whether they borrowed, rented, or had purchased the parcel for their new venture, I can’t say. I’m guessing, though, they may have acquired ownership since an exhibition hall was built to house the assortment of projects that people brought for judging.

   A  race track may have already been located there, but—if not—there soon was one, with the matinee meet becoming a staple.

   Livestock were added to the exhibitor list, requiring barns and tents to house them. Entertainment was added, with an ride on a hot air balloon (teetered to the ground) being an early attraction.

   The iconic Grandstand was erected on the west side of the track. (It’s still in use.) And at some point a stage was set up across the track from that seating where entertainment could be featured. Musical revues were popular in the early part of the 20th Century. Beyond that, in the infield, was a ball field where games between the local team and neighboring squads were played during fair week.

   The stage and ball field are long gone, with the area being used in more recent years for demolition derbies, tractor and truck pulls, mud bogs, and monster truck shows. Country music shows have been performed on portable stages brought onto the track, while other times a ring was set up for the professional wrestlers.

    The first fairs were initially more weekend entertainment, with the farm families driving in from the surrounding countryside in horse-drawn wagons for a day’s stay. They often brought a picnic lunch, the fast-food vendor not having yet arrived on the grounds.

   The event was also tied to the end of the harvest season, given that the crops, produce, and canned goods brought in for judging had to have ripened. For many years the event was scheduled for four days in early October, a convenience for area farmers who by then had picked their corn and threshed their beans.

   The problem was that this late-in-the-season date was often greeted by cooler, wet weather. Given that the midway and evening Grandstand shows had become a vital part of the revenue stream, with decent attendance ever more important, the decision was made to move it to summer. There were fairs in August and different weeks in July. The current choice for the past several years has been the last week in July.

    Rain can still impact turn-out, as can overly-hot afternoons. Still, hot is better than cold.

   The local event has been held in lean times,  during two world wars, and even during the recent COVID-19 pandemic when only a Youth Show took place in 2020. It’s been threatened by financial shortfalls, seen changes in audience interests that required a different approach, and had to squeeze plenty of pennies to get by.

    Volunteers have been its life blood, and there’s been a continuous transition of a new generation taking the place of the previous one; learning its lessons, but also taking their chances.

* * *

   Well, all that history has “lighted the way” for the return of the Fowlerville Fair this coming Monday—number 136—bringing with it all of the familiar sights, sounds, smells, and tastes.  

     The aroma of the pig barn, the pounding hoofbeats of the race horses heading down the homestretch, the French fries doused with vinegar and salt, the flashing neon lights of the Ferris wheel at night, the barkers hawking their games-of-chance, the roaring engines of the demolition derby, the chant of the auctioneer selling a 4-H project, the refreshing drink of lemonade, the crowd cheering the rodeo bull rider, the jingle of the harness on the horse-pulling team, the mooing cows and bleating sheep, the moms pushing strollers with young kids in tow, fried onions and peppers atop a polish dog, and the arts & crafts displayed in the booths under the Grandstand.

   There’s much more, but you get the picture.

    Shakespeare talked of “the seven ages of Man.” Those phases for me, as far as a fair is concerned, started with being one of those young kids in tow, followed by 4-H participation with dairy cows, then as a love-struck teenager trying to win stuffed animals at the games-of-chance for my lady fair.

     Eventually, I saw it through the lens of being a 4-H father, helping my son with his horse, and soon after assisting the grandchildren with their beef cattle and goat entries.

    I’ve also wore a reporter’s hat, writing articles about the event—mainly the coming attraction—and (during fair week) taking a wagonload of photographs of local folks enjoying the assorted activities.

     A fair, when you think about it, is an odd sort of entertainment, this coupling of the glitzy carnival, with its hint of the fast life, combining the folkways of rural life, be it raising livestock, preserving produce, or using needle-and-thread to create a quilt. The bright lights of the city disturbing the quiet ambiance of the country. But having spent my formative years down on the farm, a bit of glitz and flashing neon in the middle of summer was always a welcome interlude.

   Whatever the chemistry, it’s a mix that continues to work.

* * *

    While I won’t be as eager as I once was with the return, I’ll confess that catching the first sight of the skyline—the outline of the Ferris wheel and other midway rides, joined by the striped tents and waving pennants, plus the sturdy old Grandstand—still causes a thrill… a farm boy heading toward the bright lights… the wonders of childhood not all lost to the advancing years.