Once named the Wilson County Fair (and still is in some radio ads), the Tennessee State Fair is truly a slice of everything this great state has to offer, with rides, fair food, exhibits and competitions on just about any subject matter that little old ladies and farmers could dream up. I can just hear the competitors now, bragging over their entries, thumbs tucked behind overall-straps, “My pig is the biggest in this here state.” “Oh, yeah? Well I done grew me the biggest melon in these here parts.” Or Mildred from down the street casts a sideways glance at Peggy’s finest canned goods on display and remarks, “Oh, your pickles look almost as good as mine did last year.”
Located in Lebanon, Tennessee, the State Fair is centrally located along I-40, within fairly easy reach of both West and East Tennesseans, and with a lot more room than the Nashville Fairgrounds now has to offer post-soccer stadium.
The fun isn’t just limited to quilting competitions and livestock, although those are worthy struggles. There are, of course, the midway rides like the Ferris wheel, so-called “fun” houses, bumper cars, and all those sneaky carnies promising massive stuffed Pikachus in payment of some ridiculously hard feat of hand-eye coordination. Then there’s the truck and tractor pulls, the live music, the funnel cakes, and, last but not least, the people-watching.
Yes, there’s something for everyone at the Tennessee State Fair.
Alex surveys a collection of antique tractors. Taken on Canon Rebel T7i.
Growing up, our little Anderson County Fair in Clinton, Tennessee was a real hometown event. Baking in the hot sun and bumping into friends you haven’t seen since elementary school in shadow of the corn dog stand was as cozy and familiar as eating mama’s cornbread. Being an East Tennessee ex-pat, the Tennessee State Fair harkened back all those cozy feelings from home, to the point where I almost expected to run into my high school ag (that’s “agriculture”) teacher in the livestock barn. This year (my first year), I went with my friend Alex, one of my oldest friends and fellow Clinton ex-pat living in Nashville.
This fair was on a much grander scale than anything we saw in Clinton, however. The Tennessee Valley Fair in Knoxville might have come close to the size of this one. Alex and I wandered everywhere, hardly finding a corner to turn where there wasn’t something else to see. If it wasn’t food vendors, it was a woodturner carving a bowl on his trailer-mounted wood lathe, or a booth set up to raise money to restore an old steam locomotive, or a tent filled with exotic animals from other continents.
A blacksmith pounds iron into shape at the anvil. Taken on Canon Rebel T7i.
A group of bluegrass “pickers” warms up before taking the stage. Taken on Canon Rebel T7i.
Despite the pleasant weather, people line up to quench their thirst with some tangy lemonade. Taken on Canon Rebel T7i.
Oddly enough, even parrots are on display at the state fair. Taken on Canon Rebel T7i.
If you can get past the smell (and you should), the livestock barns are always a colorful and lively place to be, with hens clucking, sheep bleating, and the earthy whiff of poo mixed with wood shavings that remind a body of where their ancestors came from. Despite growing up in a suburban neighborhood, I participated in sheep shows at county fairs in my younger years through a sponsor that my daddy used to work with in 4-H. Being in the livestock barns brings it all back to me every time, even if I was wearing a Hawaiian shirt and sandals.
Local high school FFA (Future Farmers of America) chapters were well-represented in the barns and agricultural exhibits, manned by their teenage members. When I was in high school, the seniors seemed like men, strong and sinewy with facial hair sprouting from their jawlines. Then I look at these high school kids and realize just how young we actually were. My high school days were a strange hodge-lodge of ag kid activities and band kid activities. I was in marching band, but I took classes in livestock judging. I played “In the Mood” in jazz band, but climbed into test pits for soil judging. I guess when one grandfather is a dairy farmer and the other a gospel preacher that grew watermelons on the side, agriculture becomes a part of your life, even if your life takes place on Maple Street.
People walk past an inflatable “Corn Maze”, one of the agritourism attractions at the fair. Taken on Canon Rebel T7i.
An antique Farmall tractor sits on display. Canon Rebel T7i.
You would think someone my age would prefer hanging out on the midway at the fair and nauseate myself on a bunch of rides. But I’m an old soul, and I actually love going through the exhibit halls. I’m particularly fond of the artwork and photography, and in case you didn’t know, there are some very talented artists in Tennessee. Some of the work was simply jaw-dropping. I’ve participated in fair photography competitions before, but seeing the displays at this fair, I began asking myself why I didn’t submit anything. The boring but true answer is that it just didn’t occur to me. Maybe next year.
Other exhibits showcased the veggies that the green thumbs of our state grew this year, everything from peppers to watermelons. The behemoth watermelon that won the blue ribbon was truly a grand gourd. I don’t know enough about tomatoes and zucchini to identify a good one, but I’m glad the judges do. I killed a succulent after not watering it for an embarrassingly long period of time which shall not be disclosed in this blog post. I did not ask myself why I didn’t participate in the vegetable competition.
Peppers on display in the exhibit hall. Taken on Canon Rebel T7i.
The blue ribbon-winning watermelon. Taken on Canon Rebel T7i.
Since I rode to the fair with Alex, I had to call it quits at 8 o’clock that night to get home at a reasonable hour. So even if I had been tempted to ride any of the midway rides that night, I didn’t have the time. As a kid, the rides were all I cared about. Just try taking your kids through the canned good displays. I give it five minutes before they whine, “Mama, I’m bored. When can we ride some rides?” But as I got older, I cared less about the rides and more about the collection of skilled work from the community around me that otherwise wouldn’t be shared beyond friends and family.
But the little kid in me still wanted to see all the bright colors and happy sounds of the carnival rides, so Alex and I exited the fair through the midway. The place was packed, with people lining up to ride like it was Disney World. Maybe for some folks, this was Disney World. I still don’t have much interest in being on the rides, especially the ones that make you puke like a character in The Sandlot, but I do still love looking at them.
If you haven’t been to the Tennessee State Fair, I can now wholeheartedly recommend it. If you’re new to this great state and want to experience its character, I also recommend it. If you love funnel cakes, I recommend it. For me, it’s a reminder of who I am and where I came from, as well as a chance to admire my talented neighbors for their skill.
And if you think you can grow a bigger melon than farmer Dan, go for it.
Taken on Canon Rebel T7i.
Taken on Canon Rebel T7i.
Taken on Canon Rebel T7i.
Taken on Canon Rebel T7i.