Roseville Columnist Shares Favorite State Fair Memories

Let me share some State Fair love stories.

My maiden romance was the summer I turned eight, and my parents and I ventured from Hibbing to our very first State Fair. We stayed at the Andrews Hotel on Hennepin Avenue in Minneapolis (a favorite of Iron Rangers in those days); I recall letting the elevators carry me up and down for an hour, an amusement for this small town girl even before we got the the Fair's midway.

It was hot, warmer than we in the north ever got. My dad wore a suit, but the jacket was soon hanging on his arm.

My mother, who loved cooking and gardening, steered us first to the Ag-Hort building to study the tomatoes, potatoes, giant pumpkins and flower arrangements. Then we went to what was then known as the Home Activities building to see if anyone had entered an angel food cake that equaled her towering creations, or if the canned peaches matched her annual efforts. She often entered the St. Louis County Fair, collecting ribbons, but this was The Big Time, and she was looking for inspiration and amazement.

My dad led us to Machinery Hill -- in those days, there was actually farm machinery there --and I remember climbing tractors larger than I'd ever seen on the small farms in the north.

Then there was the food, not nearly as inventive as today's Fair fare, but memorable. Mini donuts were in abundance, but the only item impaled on sticks were Pronto Pups. I fell in love with the pineapple milk shakes in the Dairy Building, then costing about 25 cents. I still go back for them, though the price has inflated over the past six decades.

My dad went crazy over Peter's Wieners for a dime, and that price was still in effect in the '60s.

But what I remember best were the eggy, fluted french doughnuts bobbing in hot oil in a stand at the northeast corner of the Food Building, emitting an aroma that lured fairgoers by droves. Does anyone remember the name of that place? They were sold hot, dripping glaze, for a mere 10 cents. I had several that summer I was eight, blowing my small stash of cash. I know food has to evolve over time, but it was a sad year when those doughnuts no longer made their annual appearance at the Fair,

Flash forward to the summer of '64. I had just met a great guy and our first dates were at the Fair, sometimes just for fun, sometimes when I was a working reporter. That was the summer that the Sky Ride first opened and they were handing out tickets in the Fair's press office.

"Let's go," I told him, and though he hesitated a moment, we climbed into one of the cars and started our elevated trip across the Fairgrounds. He was holding my hands and looking deeply into my eyes.

"This guy must really like me," I remember thinking. Only after the ride ended did he admit he had a fear of heights (later cured by taking flying lessons).

My mother, as I recall, took me on the Olde Mill ride when I was eight, but it was a lot more fun with my new boyfriend, cuddling and kissing as we splashed along. That old Fair magic did its thing. We were married the following June and went to the fairgrounds nearly every of our 42 years together.

During our first married year, I knit us a pair of Norwegian sweaters, which, on a whim, I entered in the Fair. Imagine my shock when I took the needlework purple ribbon.

I never could match that triumph, and when, years later, I entered a pair of Nordic pullovers I'd knit for my son and his fiance -- much more intricate and colorful than my sweepstakes winners -- there wasn't a category that allowed for the twosome and they lost their impact. But I still love to look at the Fair's knitting displays -- the first thing I do every year.

I went to the Fair again this summer with my stepson, who comes from the Washington, DC area each August so he attend. We visited all our favorite places -- the Creative Activities building first, then the art displays, the animal exhibits and the horse show, the Beer Garden.

I'll tell you what I most loved this year -- after all that walking in the heat: getting on a shuttle bus and sitting on plush seats under an air conditioning vent. It may not have the romance of the Olde Mill circa 1964, but that was the best moment of my Fair day.