By Melissa Hart

One of the biggest thrills at the end of the summer was exhibiting at the state fair. The planning, the packing, the clipping and the loading were all part of the excitement of spending five days in the inner city of Detroit where gangs and prostitutes were prolific. But for 10 days of the year, this was the most exciting place on earth for livestock exhibitors from all around the state.

Little did I know that same thing was happening at every single state fair in the country. Rural youth would cajole their parents into taking their stock to the state fair while fathers everywhere cringed at the idea of spending a single day, much less a week in downtown Indy, Louisville, Des Moines or Minneapolis.

If I have learned anything in traversing the Midwest going from state fair to state fair, is that these institutions have their foundation in tradition. COVID ushered in a brand-new set of venues for the shows that were canceled because of the pandemic. With state fairs closed, the voracious appetite to compete would not be satiated and the result were pop-up shows at county fairgrounds and farmyards. Livestock enthusiasts continued their quest to raise the best.

As soon as the state fairs came back, I wondered if they would survive and how many exhibitors would head back to the downtown venues. I soon found out that it’s not necessarily the depth of competition but the firmness of foundation that keeps exhibitors coming back. It’s the tradition of where they are stalled. It’s the tradition of enjoying the same foods from the same vendors and the fun and games after dark with friends from across the state. It’s stringing year after year of exhibition until it stacks decade upon decade of family farms taking a string of show stock to the state fair.

Old farm signs are revived and put next to the new generational signs of today so visitors can see the family tradition that is unbroken. In Louisville recently I met a couple in their 80s who had been attending the Kentucky State Fair for 60 years. No longer showing, they still sat ringside and greeted their long-time friends while enjoying the show.

I admit, I’m hung up on tradition too. Every year on Sunday morning before the Holstein and Jersey shows begin at the Kentucky State Fair, we arrive early so we can enjoy breakfast with Sag. Years ago, Glenn Sagesar invited us to his homemavde breakfast of blueberry pancakes with real maple syrup, sausage and fresh coffee. And this year was no different. When we arrived, he was in his iconic Hawaiian print shirt and was standing over the griddle whipping up breakfast while his granddaughters were getting ready for the show. I pulled up a chair to the white plastic table and enjoyed a hot breakfast with great conversation.

Count me in as a traditionalist of the worst kind – as we gather in the downtown streets of big cities to bring the country to our city cousins. We will show them where their food comes from, enjoy a giggle as we drop a spider on a string and educate them that chocolate milk, in fact, does not come from brown cows.