The Missing Pie Tin

County Fair - Public Domain Photo

County Fair - Public Domain Photo



It was early September and time for the yearly county fair, which runs every year through Labor Day. Everybody in town looks forward to this event, and usually starts talking about it several months before hand. You have to make preparations too, if you are going to enter any of the events.


The fair starts out with a parade down the main street, which was Avenue H. Eventually all the floats, cars, bands, and other participants end up at the fairgrounds, which was on the edge of town in those days.

When I was in grade school, I was in the brownies and then the girl scouts. Our troop always had a float in the parade. We worked on that float all summer, looking forward to the big event when we could ride on it through town and wave to everybody who would get together and sit on the sides of the road.

Daddy would usually gather us up and take us to the fair for one day while the event was in our town. We all looked forward to this because it was a day off the farm. We went mostly to look at the exhibits and the animals. We rarely were able to partake in any of the rides in the carnival area, unless we saved our cotton-picking money, or some money from school lunches the previous year. As we got older, we had baby-sitting money we could save for this event, if we didn’t spend it all on records at the Five Star Market. Once in awhile, we could accompany Daddy to town and that is the first place my sister, Scherri, and I would go – the back of the store where they kept all the old 45’s and 78’s. It was hard to resist the price of five for $1.00.

One time, my sister Scherri and I wanted to go to the fair so bad that we got a ride with friends at the high school. I was about to die from the heat that time because I had just come down with the shingles, so I had to wear a long sleeve shirt to cover up all the red blisters on my arm. My arm itched and burned all day from that rash. It sure did swell up that night, but I guess I thought it was worth it.

Fireworks - Free Clipart

Our family would always go for the fireworks display every year, which they held nightly at 9 pm. We had an old pink and white station wagon then. The car was big enough to accommodate all nine of us, but it leaked exhaust fumes inside the car. Because of that, we had to ride with the windows open all year round, or risk fumigation.

Once we arrived at the fairgrounds, we would find a patch of grass or dirt where we could park amongst the other vehicles that surrounded the fairgrounds. All of us kids would pile out and lay on the hood of the car to wait for the fireworks to start. We laid side-by-side like packed sardines. We didn’t care because it was so hot and humid on those nights, and we wanted to get a better view.

The mosquitoes would about eat us alive by the time it was over; however, it was all worth it. The fireworks seemed to come down right on top of us in all the colors of the rainbow. Of course, there were the usual oooh’s and aaah’s throughout the whole hour or so of the show. After the grand finale, we would all pile into the car, hot and sweaty and scratching the big welts left by the mosquitoes, as we headed for home, chattering about what a good time we had.

As I got older and was in high school, I started entering quilts and clothing into the competitions. I would have to work on these all summer in order to have them ready in time. I would usually always get a red or white ribbon, which signified second or third place, or an honorable mention. How I wanted that first place ribbon that seemed to elude me.

Apple Pie - Public Domain Photo

It wasn't until I started entering the apple pies that I finally got the coveted blue ribbon for first place. I was very proud of myself, considering my competition was a bunch of old German ladies. I entered pies for about three years.

When I went to pick up my pie and pie tin the last year, it was missing. They searched high and low for it. Nobody knew the whereabouts of it, or could find it. When they decided that they would never find it, they paid me $2.75 for the pie tin. I was certainly dumbfounded as to why somebody would take my pie tin. I was also a bit mad about it too because it was my favorite one, and I knew it would be hard to find another to take its place.

First Plcae Fair Ribbon - Free Clipart

After thinking it over, I decided they must have thought the secret to the blue ribbon was in the pie tin.