BROWNSTOWN — Lacy Vaughn of Dudleytown is a grown-up fair child.
One week a year, she scratches work and piles her three kids in the car to visit the Jackson County Fair, mimicking what she always did.
Her girls were romping on and near the shiny farm machinery Monday afternoon, but that was just one attraction of fair week that attracts about 100,000 people annually.
“We’re here pretty much every day,” Vaughn said of the July 24 to 30 scheduled festivities.
She volunteers at different booths and makes sure the kids get their treats.
“We couldn’t get out of here without getting cotton candy,” Vaughn said.
For longtime fans, the slogan of the Jackson County Fair — “Fun for the Whole Family” — is a literal translation. Kids, plus amusement rides, plus games on the midway, plus goodies to eat are what it’s all about. They never tire of the familiarity, revel in it.
For many, one week a year, the sugar high from cotton candy, elephant ears and funnel cake is what’s for dinner. The flying-high rides elicit the same types of yelps and screams over and over again.
Cousins Nora Mager, 6, of Freetown and Charlie Smith, 8, of Bloomington scored big time at the sheriff’s department booth. They collected plastic hats, badges and handheld fans for cooling. They were practically deputized, though they didn’t make the claim.
“We’re just pretending,” Smith said of her law enforcement status, although Mager did threaten to put her mom in jail.
The Johnsons made the trek from Bedford. Luke, 9, Eli, 7, and Hana, 1, were being escorted by mom Rachel along with two other siblings as they posed to stick their faces into cutouts.
“Eating and looking at the animals,” Rachel Johnson said of the immediate game plan.
They were eating healthy, not so much fair extreme specialties but meals at one of the comparatively upscale restaurants operated by churches. “Fish sandwich” was greeted with enthusiasm.
Geri Luebbers, mother of 10 from Brownstown, was accompanied by all but one of her offspring, ages 9 months to 16 years old, who admired the hand-carved models on display.
“We’ll come up a couple times of year,” Luebbers said. But the family avoids the sweet stuff for sale. “We eat very healthy.”
Several youngsters were attracted to the tractors and farm machinery, yet they were not overly impressed by them because they were so familiar. They were farm kids who liked to sit behind the wheel of some big machines, yet one girl noted, “We have one of everything.”
Some of the John Deeres are so large they are impossible to pass cleanly on highways outside of town. Some of the largest combines and tractors seemed a couple of stories high with tires so huge kids could climb into the rims and sit comfortably.
Bryar Disque, 11, of Vallonia tried various positions in the tire. He proclaimed that his grandfather owned a “super tall tire, but skinnier.” Disque and his brother, Case, 8, fit into this tire together.
Wallace Kirk, 2, of Columbus, was sucking on a straw to make sure he drained his cup, trying to get to the bottom of a lemon shake-up. In the background, mom suggested her four youngsters, ages 2 to 8, were easily swayed into attendance by a fair they were just getting to know with the promise of seeing animals and drinking lemonade. Once so advertised, it became an easy sell.
Very much enamored with a prize won at one of the midway games, Benjamin Trimpe, 4, hugged a brightly colored cushiony fish to his chest. This was new stuff for him, especially since he lives in Clearwater, Florida. Dad Nick, 36, is a Seymour guy who moved out of state but has long been a devotee of the Jackson County Fair he grew up attending. The fair beckons from 950 miles away.
“We come back for the fair every year,” Nick said. “We see relatives.”
The Nicholsons of Salem were on a different mission. Mom Pam said Monday was “game night,” when the three children could wander the midway and compete for souvenirs. She subdivided the fair plan by day and said later in the week, they intended to return for dinner and rides.
Gwendolyn, 7, Elina, 5, and Martin, 4, had each already won a plastic toy. Martin got a Spider-Man, his sisters different types of dolphins. For $5, mom invested in the duck game. All the little ones had to do was reach over a low-slung wall to lift up a yellow hard-plastic duck and turn it upside down. If the bottom featured a star, they were winners. And they had all won something.
Regardless of the sugar content promised from fair food, there would be no prohibition on what the kids could order — even sticky, sugar-drenched cotton candy.
“You don’t get it that often,” Pam Nicholson said.
Pretty much only one week a year.