OK... so it is starting to become "That Time of Year" again... a time which as a child, teenager and young adult... I looked forward to. The smell of early summer thunderstorms right before the heavens opened up... or right after when the humidity smelled like asphalt and freshly cut grass. In the evenings we were lucky enough to start seeing the first glimpses of Lightning Bugs blinking in the distance and we looked forward to the last few days of school as we stared out our bedroom windows hoping for Summer to arrive.
For me... I grew up in an area steeped in tradition and history. Many people who grew up in the Northeast can say the same, but few have the experience that I had. My mom became involved in the community almost as soon as we moved to the Main Line (Wayne, PA) back in the winter of 1978. One of the organizations she became deeply involved in - was the Devon Horse Show & Country Fair. For over 30 years she volunteered, headed fundraising galas and dinners, ran various committees on the grounds and was an esteemed and loved Chairman there.
Growing up around this environment gave me (I think) the heart that I grew into (I didn't always have this carefree loving spirit you all know me to have today, and at times I was quite the handful). I started volunteering at the Devon Horse Show on the Candy Committee - as a "Striper" (Not stripper... for my male friends you better zip your lip before I pop you one). I would have a rectangular wicker basket hung from a wide ribbon around my neck and I would walk up and down the grandstands much like a hot dog vendor at a baseball game. I would sell gum, candy and a Devon Favorite - Fresh Lemon Sticks. It was the summer of 1980 and I was only 5 years old... and at that time the age wasn't a factor, nowadays I think you have to be at least 12 to volunteer. It was my first "job" and I felt important. I was the Carrie Ingles or Laura Ingles-Wilder Little house on the Prairie look a like child with long flowing golden locks but dressed in the preppy pink and green outfits that became synonymous with the Main Line crowd.
After a few years of volunteering, it was no longer just a way to make my parents proud... but it became a part of my life. Something I looked forward to every year. Plus, my mom was always near by somewhere on the Show Grounds so I always was able to see her if I wanted.
At around age 9 I was "Promoted" to the Midway area - where my mom was now Chairman. I worked the Duck Pond along side a few older girls who were maybe 12. It was my first taste of Midway and I would later learn that it was the place where all the "Cool" kids would hang out, eat funnel cake, go to the top of the Ferris wheel with boys and sneak off away from their parents. I worked Midway until I was 19 in various areas including the highly sought after Air conditioned ticket booth.
During these formative years at Devon, there were many people I grew up with, many of whom I considered family - as they had seen me grow up in-front of their eyes. Devon gets under your skin, it becomes a part of you. And no matter how many times you say, "This will be my last year" it never is.
My last year of volunteering at Devon was May/June of 1999. I had already at that time been dating my then boyfriend long distance for 3-4 months and was trying to find myself in life and in love. 3 Months later I moved 3000 miles away from everything I ever knew and moved to California to start my life with my boyfriend, Adam.
I wouldn't go back to Devon for years and when I did, I noticed not much had changed... the dusty arena still smelled the same, you could smell the hamburgers and hot dogs cooking, you could hear the announcements and crowds in the grandstands... and if the wind hit just right - you could smell an interesting mix of the wonderful funnel cakes and the horse stables just beyond that! lol. You witnessed the "Grand Dams" walking around with their $2500 hats on that were the size of today's Smart Cars and the men walking around in their Madras Plaid golf pants, leather braided belts and polo shirts while wearing their aviator sunglasses. Yep... not much has changed.
It's called tradition. It's called Devon Week. That last week of May, first week of June. And as that time approaches and I realize how much I miss it and those traditions... it hits me...
My mom who devoted her life to the running of the show behind the scenes... who helped raised hundreds of thousands of dollars every year to benefit the Bryn Mawr Hospital - a hospital where she would later go for her Breast Cancer surgeries and treatments... will never be seen there again. Her last years there were spent in the Blue Room... a prestigious area that not too many Devon go-ers know about. The high rollers, famous, Chairmen and Board Members go there for hors d'oeuvres and stashed bottles of liquor. It was a high honor to be a Chairman of the Blue Room and that was how my mom "went out".
The smell of cotton candy, funnel cakes, lemon sticks and horses... yes they are all very very sweet and remind me of Devon.
A smell even sweeter? Success. And in my eyes my mom did that for Devon.
God how I miss both.
Very nice, Ali!
ReplyDeleteThank you :)
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