Berlin Lions Club
 Berlin Fair

Salina: All-Star at the Berlin Fair

Saturday October 9, 2004
Source: The Berlin Citizen
By: Olivia L. Lawrence, Citizen Reporter

Summing up the panorama of sights and sounds, spectacle and tradition "in a few words "seems nearly impossible. But, Diane Mintich took a shot at it Friday at the Berlin Fair.

"We're having a blast!" she said.

She and her son Brian, 9, were in the chicken barn. Brian, with dyed red hair, was going tête a tête with a Rhode Island Red chicken. "They're mirroring each other," Mintich said, laughing.

Thousands of fellow fairgoers, streaming into the Beckley Road fairgrounds over the week-end, seemed to be in synch with the joy of the Mintichs' experience.

By Friday afternoon the "Lots Full" signs were out on the access roads to the fair and the shuttle buses ran continuous loops. The midway was so crowded at times the throng barely inched along. But no one seemed to mind. There were smiles everywhere and the festive vibe was infectious.

Saturday a half-hour of rain showers sent visitors scurrying into exhibit halls and under vendor tents " and probably kept a few wimps away. But, by the end of the night, there was a sure sign the multitudes had not had their spirits dampened " there was not a hamburger to be found and two church booths had but one wiener left on their respective grills.

"Get the last hot dog. Just one hot dog left!" called vendors.

After the soggy Saturday, Sunday brought a picture-perfect fall day; an ideal fair day for Family Day and to bring an end to the Berlin Lions Club event.

But let's return to Friday afternoon when the buzz at the fairgrounds was "I'm going to dunk the mayor!"

Mayor Adam Salina had taken his perch atop the dunk tank at a fund-raiser for the Berlin High School Band as a good-sized line of would-be dunkers queued up for their chance to see him take a dive. It wouldn't take long.

The first comer was determined not to miss. He plunked down enough money to torpedo the mayor into the tank. "I'm going to pull the lever!" he yelled.

Salina had no sooner climbed back onto the hot seat when a kid pitched his first ball and sent the mayor back down into the tank.

"No, no, you already dunked me!" protested the mayor as the kid wound up again.

"I've still got two balls left," the boy said.

The crowd was as much a part of the fair as the planned exhibits: kids wearing big fuzzy hats, teenage Goths with spiked hair, goofy painted faces and giant teddy bears atop shoulders of prize-winners. If you didn't arrive making a fashion statement, you could go native with booths for hair braiding, fake tattoos and neon accessories.

There were happy scenes everywhere from midway fun to community involvement to the essence of an agricultural fair.

Sophia Morell, 6, fished in a pool for a prize while her dad, Robert Morell, cheered her on as she yanked out a "fish." Nancy Wetherbee put on a yarn-making demonstration with her spinning wheel as a crowd gathered. Her shorn sheep looked on from the stall behind her. Troop 41 Boy Scouts Josh Thompson, 16, and Anthony Vernacatola, 11, hawked steamed corn " one of the very few vegetables to be found in the land of fried dough, deep-fried Twinkies and "butterflied" French fries.

Fair President Richard Miller said the food booths are the biggest fund-raiser of the year for many church and community organizations.

Part of the fun was watching babies getting their first gander at sheep, cattle, rabbits and just hatching chicks. The livestock barns were real crowd-pleasers and more than a few visitors couldn't resist poking a finger into a cage and petting an angora bunny or a fancy fowl, despite the "do not touch" signs.

On Sunday fairgoers had a special treat when a calf was born. Everyone was simply enthralled.

Exile, a country-rock band, arrived in their big, red tour bus ready to put on several shows over the course of the weekend and even on that wet Saturday night music fans were game for the show.

"Band groupies," said a man " joking, not derogatory " pointing to a cluster of lawn chairs, topped with umbrellas, front and center of the stage. "They've been there all day."