My brother John and I shout at the top of our lungs, “Wake up Larry - We’re leaving without you!” That shocks our younger brother awake and we laugh when he bumps his head on the sloped ceiling over his cot. Grabbing his clothes and shoes Larry stumbles down the narrow stairs behind us to the kitchen, where Mom is preparing our picnic basket as Dad completes his morning chores; State Fair, here we come!
I never anticipated Caterpillar work-related travels as eagerly as I did our annual trip to the Illinois State Fair back the late 40’s and early 50’s. Our farm kept a tight grip on Dad, who had a couple of cows to milk and pigs to feed every day, so no days off! We never considered going to the Lake of the Ozarks or the Wisconsin Dells; that would mean being gone overnight! Today will be our one-day summer vacation.
The picnic basket that holds a supply of fried chicken prepared the day before along with potato salad and fresh vegetables like radishes and carrots and sliced tomatoes, and a container of cool-aid and all the necessary plates and utensils is deposited in the car trunk. Before 1948 we travel in a black 1936 Cadillac Fleetwood limousine, running boards and all, that belonged in a gangster movie; after 1948 it’s a green Oldsmobile 98 sedan. John, Margaret, Larry and I sit in the back; Rose Anne in the front between Mom and Dad and Mary Jo on Mom’s lap!
The first milestone of the 75-mile trip from our farm near Pittsfield to Springfield starts by crossing the Illinois River at the village of Florence. We enter the rich bottomland, passing roadside stands that will be selling watermelons and cantaloupes later in the day. Next is Jacksonville and then the small town of New Berlin; time to start watching for the dome of the state capital. Bumper-to-bumper traffic now makes us nervous but we keep pace with the cars ahead, all sharing the same destination.
Dad pays for his carload of family to gain entrance into the grounds and attendants in orange vests wave us into the next parking space. We divide up with the girls going with Mom and the boys with Dad, with an agreed-on time to return for lunch around 1:00 pm.
As we hasten toward the fairgrounds from the parking lot the mix of sounds greeting us includes tractors bellowing, police car sirens, a melody of animal sounds and people’s voices, the muffled crunch of gravel under foot, and music over loudspeakers.
The smell of fresh straw in clean stalls, the raw scent of new harness, and the pungent aroma of livestock feed fill the barns; large cooling fans provide background noise as they stir the air. Dad holds a steady pace through the barns and then stops at the machinery display area. All the familiar names are there; Ford, Allis-Chalmers, Oliver, International Harvester, Massey Ferguson, John Deere, and Case.
John, Larry, and I are busy collecting free stuff like yardsticks, fans, pamphlets on every subject, pieces of candy and gum, ball caps, pencils and pins and every configuration of bag to hold it all.
After the morning sights and sounds we return to the car for lunch starved! The ripe tomatoes and peaches and fried chicken taste wonderful! We stand in a semi-circle around the trunk of the car and listen to Mom and the girl’s report on their morning – time spent mostly in the crafts and foods buildings. The setting is not a Norman Rockwell scene but to me it becomes an “I’ll always remember” moment standing beside one another in the dusty gravel sharing our meal.
The afternoon includes an artist creating trees, lakes, mountains and waterfalls with each brush stroke, the chaos of salesmen pushing encyclopedias, kitchen gadgets and appliances, and people guessing your weight and age. By mid afternoon the heat of the day prompts us to seek ice cream in the dairy products building that features a full-sized statue of a cow carved out of butter! The games and rides of Happy Hollow are too expensive; Happy Hollow is like Pittsfield’s annual circus times 10! We end the day watching horse races from the grandstand.
Mom commands us to go to the bathroom before we get in the car. By the time we’re on the highway sensory overload becomes our pillow for naps! At Pittsfield we begin to wake and are fully awake by the time we’re home. The cows are happy to see Dad and we help Mom bring everything into the house. Supper is leftovers and suddenly it’s bedtime. All the events of the day become background for that special memory I still have of our standing-together family mealtime moment!