Champaign County, Ohio, has a history which dates back 300 years. Early settlers braved the uncertainty of the forests and rolling meadows to forge a community which was to become steeped in history and tradition. They worked hard to clear the land, plant, harvest, and to raise their livestock. They built their farms and small towns, and raised generations of people who have always been deeply associated with the soil and agriculture.
One of the early, yearly events which brought people together on a regular basis was the County Fair, held on land on the southern outskirts of Urbana, the county seat. The first fair was held in 1841, and was a far-cry from the modern era yearly gathering.
As the years passed, there were many youngsters from across Champaign County who were involved in 4-H or Future Farmers of America (FFA), Cub Scouts, Boy Scouts, Explorers, or church groups who participated in this event each year. There were pigs, rabbits, goats, sheep, chickens, horses, beef cattle, dairy cattle, arts and crafts, sewing, and a host of other projects and exhibits which were prepared for the fair. A whole year of preliminary activity was conducted in preparation for those few days of August each year.
In 1955, I was a thin, light-weight boy with tow-blonde hair, who took an inkling to the idea that I could become successful in the 4-H program. I was encouraged by my step-father, William Robert "Putt" Forsythe, that I was capable of raising a pig to competition-class at the annual fair in Urbana. One fine Saturday morning, he drove me to the home of Jay Dooley, an area breeder of hogs. There, we all sought out a young female pig which would be suitable for my 4-H project. We eventually settled on a pure-bred Spotted Poland China piglet, white-skinned with a generous array of black-and-gray spots. The hog's registered documentation indicated her official name was "Fancy Miss." (I decided to name her "Nellybelle" after the name of the Jeep which Pat Brady drove in the "Roy Rogers" television series). A price was negotiated for the pig, and the $35 given to Jay Dooley. Putt and I drove the short distance back to North Lewisburg, with Nellybelle held in my lap on the front seat of our old 1947 Chevrolet. There were periodic squeals of protest from Nellybelle, but she weathered the trip without serious incident.
Putt had made arrangements for me to start my 4-H project by housing the pig in one of the stalls in an old outbuilding which stood on property adjacent to the home of Bucky Sheehe. It was warm, and dry, and protected from the rain and heat. There was a water pump nearby - close enough to haul water for the pig - and Putt had made arrangements with Bucky to purchase all of the straw we needed for bedding for the stall. Putt and I carried into the stall a couple of bales of straw. We busted them open by cutting the twine which bound them, and spread the golden bedding around the stall. Putt had purchased some supplement powder which he taught me how to mix in a large, glass bottle, to which a rubber nipple was then attached. The plan was that we would bottle-feed the piglet over the next several days until she could be converted to a special slurry and then compressed pellets.
Nellybelle nosed around her new surroundings, exploring every inch of the place before returning to me for her first feeding. It was a slow process at first as she adjusted to the artificial nipple, but she soon got the hang of the procedure. She sucked down the fluid and wanted more, but it was time for us to leave. We made sure the stall and building were secured, got into the car, and drove the couple of miles back home.
Every day after that, Putt drove me to Bucky's place in the wee hours of the morning to feed Nellybelle and to see to her comfort needs. The same process continued in the evening hours when we returned for her routine feeding and care. A rapport developed between me and the pig as she grew stronger. There was a bond of love and mutual respect.
One evening, she was not as responsive as she had been previously. It was clear that she was ill. Putt put in a call to Dr. Max Coates, an area veterinarian, who soon arrived on the scene. His diagnosis was pneumonia, and his prognosis was not good. There was a real possibility that we would lose Nellybelle.
But the good doctor administered to the little pig and stayed with us for a few hours. I was so frightened that I convinced Putt I ought to stay with her overnight. I made up a bed in one corner of the stall, the single-bulb ceiling light casting shadows throughout the area. After Putt left, I remained awake for hours, holding the sick pig on my lap while gently caressing her back, sides and head. Somewhere in the night hours I finally fell asleep, only to be awakened when Putt reappeared in the morning. It looked like the crisis had passed, and over the next few daylight hours the little pig recovered. Our routine went back to normal.
All that spring and summer little Nellybelle and I had bonded. Putt and his father, Tom, had erected a fenced in area on the northern boundary of our property in North Lewisburg. While most of the house and grounds sat within the town limits, this particular area was outside the boundaries of the town. (That would become an important issue in time). We moved the pig to her new home. Nellybelle loved the expanded territory and prospered. She recognized my voice, my touch, and seemed eager to please me. I learned the techniques involved in caring for her and teaching her to be led around the enclosure. She reveled in the mud pit which I had created for her where she could escape the summer heat. She also learned to tolerate, and eventually to look forward to her periodic bath. On those occasions, I sprayed her with water from the garden hose, drenched her with a soapy solution composed of Cheer detergent powder and water, and scrubbed her with a stiff bristled brush. Her pink skin radiated, and her black and gray spots stood out in contrast.
It was now time for the 4-H competition at the county fair. My uncle, Glen Simpson, arrived one morning in his truck. He had already loaded my cousin Jerry's livestock. Nellybelle and the things I would need at the fair were loaded aboard the truck. We soon set out for Urbana.
When we arrived at the Powell Street entrance to the fairgrounds, Uncle Glen parked the truck near the gate. There were other friends there to help us unload the livestock, and move the animals to their respective stalls in nearby buildings. Once the animals were secure in their new surroundings, we returned to the truck. The old straw was removed, and the floorboards were swept clean. Fresh straw was applied, and a canvas tarp was draped over the wooden rails and tied down securely for protection from the rain and heat. Personal effects were distributed, and individual sleeping areas were set up for the kids who were to call this truck "home" for the next week.
Our chores done for the day, everyone set out to explore the fairgrounds. There was a flurry of activity as people set up their makeshift shelters, found stalls for their animal exhibits, or for their business-related exhibitions. People were busy setting up tents which would soon open as eating establishments, where hungry folks would be able to buy breakfast, lunch and dinner meals, as well as cold soft drinks, lemonade, and iced tea - or an occasional slice of watermelon. Vendors were setting up places where they could hawk their popcorn, cotton candy, ice cream candy, salt water taffy, candied apples, t-shirts and other clothing. Other vendors were busy along the "midway," setting up mechanical rides, games of chance, and the "freak show" exhibits which were popular back then. There was the constant ring of sledge hammer striking metal stakes, commands being barked by supervisors to their weary crews, and a calliope of other noises all thrown together. It was a wonderful world to see!
The coming week was filled with activities as 4-H and FFA kids prepared their animals or other exhibits for competition. The days started early, were hectic from beginning to end, and went on long into the night. Animals had to be fed and cleaned and trained. Meals had to be consumed. Rides had to be experienced. Sweets and other treats had to be enjoyed. Coins had to be wasted in the mechanical and electrical games and other activities in the arcade tent. Freebies had to be sought out from area merchants and tossed into plastic bags - accumulated treasures which could be enjoyed long after the fair had ended. What a great adventure! And what a great time to be a kid!
Nellybelle and I worked well together as we faced our competition in the show tent. She was beautifully cleaned, smelled of Cheer detergent, and walked with the proud grace of a purebred. I used a wooden cane to gently guide her around the sawdust ring, while I kept her between myself and the judge. She played her part to the hilt, basking in all the attention she was receiving. In the end, she was declared Grand Champion by the National Spotted Poland China Record. I was thrilled, Putt was thrilled, and Jay Dooley - who was there as a sponsor of the competition - was thrilled. Our little Nellybelle - officially, "Fancy Miss," - was a winner!
A reporter from the Urbana Daily Citizen was on hand to interview me, and to snap a few photos. The newspaper article appeared the following day. The accompanying photo showed Nellybelle and me, cane in hand, with a row of ribbons strung up behind us. It was glorious!
The week ended. The livestock was herded once again to awaiting trucks and trailers. The makeshift shelters we had called home were dismantled. The caravans of vehicles back to North Lewisburg and other areas of the county were on the roads. Fair week was over. But there would always be next year!
Note: the Champaign County Fair, perhaps the largest county fair in Ohio, is scheduled for August 5-12, 2011.
Circle the dates on your calendars. See you there!
