Sometimes the most important part of the Fair are these machines. Since I often ride around, my feet don’t feel as awful as G’s do. They tickle my feet as they vibrate, but they turn his to happy feet.
We got there early thanks to the press tickets given us by Captain Poolie. Thanks Poolie. She doesn’t like crowds, but this year she would have loved the Firemen’s Demolition Derby held at the Fair as a fundraiser for the Burn Center. Frankly, it’s the best fundraiser around.
Yes, we went to the woodworking, the quilting, the homemaking section, the kiddie area, and the sales floor. We ate….lots, and we returned over and over again to get images from the Demo Derby.
Slowly I begin to understand things. Each fire district finds a full frame car and raise the money to get it ready to race. The driver’s door is painted orange. Each driver flies a red flag and takes it down when he can’t get his battered car to move one more inch. Glass is removed and a steel mesh installed in the windshield space. Hoods and trunks are chained down. Gas tanks are drained. Anything dangling down has been removed so most cars have straight headers. Noisy and exciting stuff. Who knew one donation could get so exciting.
The bigger car the better. This was the first station wagon I had ever seen racing. It was a really heavy Ford LTD, full framed automobile.
I cheered the red wagon on. Who knew that the long rear overhang would get pressed down into the dirt. Who knew the firemen would find a way to press it upwards like bending a soda can in the middle. This was a crush Poolie would have enjoyed.
By the end of the final race, number 76 looked like an AMC Gremlin. The remnants of a frame you see in the last photograph are gone, and the rear of the car is sheared off level with the back seat. Despite the prominence of Fords, a Cadillac won as the last car standing.
We ate more high calorie stuff for dinner and wandered the midway enjoying the drama of the moment.
“What do you want to do now?” George asked.
“Home,” I replied. And so we did.