American Way Fair Memories

                               (sometimes good material just appears to fall out the sky)

 

 

                                           Say it ain’t so, Joe! 

Pottsville is losing its American Way Fair!   Another  loss to the downtown reeling from the loss of Pomeroy's, the Necho Allen Hotel, and the underground rest rooms. The tragic news came unexpectedly, as the $17 million Union Station was built, in part, to handle the influx of tourists, sightseers and street urchins that came to the annual Fair, boosting the city's economy.

All we have now are our memories to hold on to.  Man, it was one hell of a downhill ride, and I loved every minute of it.   How does one describe the AWF to the uninitiated?  For starters, try watching such films as “The Easter Parade,” “One Flew Over the Coo-Coo’s Nest,” “The Wizard of Oz,” “State Fair” and “The Grapes of Wrath” simultaneously.

Go ahead. I will wait until you are done…… You can get all of these films at the Red Box in the downtown Giant Supermarket….. Hurry up. I am waiting……

                                        (later, the next day)

                                               See, wasn’t I correct? 

 I did forget to mention that the new movie, “Mr. Peabody and Sherman” has a small scene in it, where the talking dog and his pet boy get into the Way-Back Machine and travel back to Pottsville in 1976; the year that the Fair opened.  It is a short five minute scene and only features the American Way Surplus Swine Flu Shot Tent with crowds of people lining up to get immunized with surplus swine flu vaccine, before Mr. Peabody yells to Sherman, “Hurry up, boy. Let’s get the hell out of here!”

I was there at the first fair.  I loved every minute. 

It opened on a solemn note, with the ecumenical blessing of the funnel cake batter, a prayer for those afflicted with disco fever, and a moment of silence for all of those who overslept. Then the Mayor and the Winter Carnival Mascot, Pottsie Ottsie, took to the podium to declare the official opening.

But, before I continue, think about 1960 when Senator John F. Kennedy visited Pottsville and removed his hat when speaking at the Garfield Diner as he tried to catch the attention of one of the Diner’s  waitresses.

From that moment, the men of Pottsville forever stopped wearing hats. Unfortunately they proceeded to burn down all of the city’s haberdasheries, leveling them into what we know today as parking lots.  In a similar manner, in 1976 the men of Pottsville stopped wearing shirts at any downtown fair after the mayor removed his polyester leisure jacket and polyester shirt to welcome the participants. 

His Honor was a hell of an emcee, bellowing out those immortal words, now taught to children in every middle school, home school, cyber school and charter school:

  “…You've proven to the world that several hundred people – and I call you people because I am one - can get together and have eight hours of fun and music and have nothing but fun and music, funnel cake and Italian Sausage, and I God Bless You for it!”  

Fortunately. while the men tore off their shirts after that announcement, no men’s clothing stores were damaged.  We have our level-headed mayor and the Pottsville Police Commissioner to thank for that.

From that moment on the AWF became synonymous with bare-chested men showing off their pasty, beer barrel abs. Noted linguists contend that the term “man boobs” became acceptable part of our English vernacular due to that historic, opening fair in the heart of the anthracite coal region.

It was then time for the music to begin. The Pottsville Kilties then performed, playing the melodic “Afternoon Delight” on their bagpipes while perched high atop the rooftop of the Park Hotel. A truly magical ‘70’s moment.  There was music of all variety was heard that beautiful day. For instance, there was Little Andy singing “the Disco Duck Polka” while Country and Western sensation “Wee” Willie Whistle doing a Texas swing version of “Play That Funky Music White Boy”  and the Byzantine Choir doing a somber, slow version of “(Shake, Shake, Shake) Shake Your Booty, ” in the Ruthenian language.

 Wasn’t the music of the 1970’s the greatest?

Besides watching two transient street people, affectionately known to all as "The Captain and Tennille" play tennis on East Norwegian Street in a match unrivaled since Wimbledon, one of the athletic highlights of the fair was the 400-meter bed race with beds from all of the local furniture stores participating. There were teams from Nathans, Levitz, Brighters, Rombergers, Pomeroys and Sears going bed-to-bed with Tenenholz’s, Ufbergs, and Sisweins.  The local betting parlors were very busy that day with frantic wagering on which furniture store would win.   The winner, by the way, was a Chippendale bed from Tuzon’s, a 30-1 long shot. In last year's bed race, Goodwill was the only contestant.  Betting fell off precipitously.

The American Way Fair is now history.  Some say it will be like Philadelphia’s American Bandstand and relocate out west. Rumor has it that it may reappear in a year or two in Tower City, Sacramento or Rough and Ready. We can just hope.

All we have left are cherished  memories and perhaps, some Italian sausage or funnel cake shoved in the back of the freezer.  Thank you Billie, thank you Joe and thank you to all of the others who played any role in the AWF and that awesome, Sunday afternoon delight!