Ein Sommer der Liebe 2004

Article originally printed in May 2004. I attended two Bavarian Festivals and I have fond memories.

This summer of 2004 marks the thirtieth anniversary of one of the greatest events in Schuylkill County history. Many of us will gather together to commemorate what has become known as “the summer of love.” That is when over 418,000 bedraggled fans of German food and music descended on a little known area referred to as Barnesville and entered the gates to consume tons of schnitzel and barrels of brew. Most of these participants were escaping from the Rest Haven scandal that had erupted and which destroyed what little confidence that the people had in the ruling oligarchy.
It was billed as seventeen days of “frieden und liebe” and it lived up to its name. As Mammy Trout said, “It was the best of times and the wurst of times.” The amount of food devoured that summer baffled gastroenterologists at the Good Samaritan Hospital. The staggering quantity of beer and cabbage consumed in such a short amount of time has never been surpassed to this day, despite many numerous attempts.
Word of the festival spread throughout the county and a massive traffic jam formed on Route 54. When I heard about it, I quickly shoved my lederhosen in my knapsack, grabbed my sleeping bag and hitched a ride over to Barnesville. It didn’t take long before I got a lift in a bus that was carrying the Stadkappelle Marching Band. What a trip!
Many of the people who tell you that they were at Bavarian Festival ’74 are just plain liars. I was one of the lucky ones who were there for the duration. I remember the rain, the mud, the frauleins and the strudel. You are fortunate that I have a memory like an elephant. I actually rubbed elbows with scientist Werner Von Braun, Secretary of State Henry Kissinger, UN Secretary Kurt Waldheim, composer Oscar Hammerstein, and Grace Kelly in the main beer hall. I remember watching the elegant Princess of Monaco do the “chicken dance” with Secretary of State Kissinger, while Waldheim balanced a huge stack of beer cups in one hand. I also remember one long table being converted into a “slip and slide” with all of them taking turns diving down the table head first, accompanied by the song 99 Luftballoons.
The festival lasted for seventeen days and nights and the music was groovy. The Rhinelanders, The Heimtklaenge Band, and The Walter Groller Orchestra were just a few of the big names that played there. I was utterly astounded by the power, talent and magic of “The Mischief Makers” as they wandered throughout the fair grounds, captivating everyone with their dazzling oomp-pah music. This german drinking music was hard edged, boisterous, raucous, and almost religious in its fervor. Beer hall culture requires you to slam your mugs first on the table, then against other mugs. A lot of noise and a little spilled beer is the way to show your spirit. All of the while, the sweet scent of sauerkraut was everywhere. Over the loudspeaker, announcements about bad pepper cabbage could be heard. And then there were the fun-loving frauleins. I will always have fond memories of Ulrika, who became my festival soul mate, after serving me a plate of hot potato salad in the main beer hall. She remained my “old lady” for seventeen days. Thanks for the memories Ulrika!
For one brief shining moment, a dream was released across Schuylkill County. Mammy swore that it was a dawning of a new age. She is upset that many young people have no knowledge of this event. The phrase, ein sommer der liebe, has special meaning to those who attended the festival that year. To Mammy it was a gathering of the tribes. They came from all over, Hegins, Sacramento, Pine Grove, and Hecla. Everyone dressed in quaint clothing. Men were in bundhosen and vests, and the women wore colorful dirndls and blouses.
While the music heard at that festival is legendary, the debate about its historical significance still rages today. True believers still call Bavarian Festival ’74 the capstone of an era devoted to human advancement. Cynics say it was a ridiculous excess of gemütlichkeit, whatever the heck that means. Then there are those of us, me included, that say it was just one hell of a party. However no one should consume so much kraut and ale in such a short time span! The Festival, like only a handful of other historical events, has become a part of the cultural lexicon of Schuylkill County. As the Rest Haven Scandal and Sportsmen’s Complex are code words for corruption, “Bavarian Festival ’74” has become an instant adjective denoting Teutonic hedonism. Kermit Deitrick, who created the Festival, as well as its well-known logo of a pigeon perched on a tuba, described it this way, “something was tapped, a nerve, in this county. Everyone just came and ate kraut and drank beer. It was seventeen days of peace and music. It was far-out, man. It was groovy.”