The town where I grew up was fairly small. As some of you who grew up in a small town know, this means there is not much to do. So whenever the town decided to have a festival, it was a major event. Everyone, and I do mean everyone, would attend. Streets were blocked off and shops were closed in preparation for the big day. The festival included the usual things – food, music, face-painting, etc. And if you’re from the South like me, it also included clogging (if you’ve never seen this done, I highly recommend it), Civil War enactments, and fresh peach cobbler.
I have fond memories of these town festivals so I was really looking forward to our weekend trip to Bedford, Pennsylvania to participate in their annual fall festival.
By the time we arrived mid-morning, things were well underway. While I didn’t see any square dancing or gun shows to speak of, I did see the next best thing: shopping. Lots and lots of shopping, all set up alongside the road in convenient little booths.
All you had to do was walk a few feet and you could treat yourself to apple dumplings (they smelled heavenly).
Walk a few feet more and you could purchase a Pittsburgh Steelers hat (we were in Pennsylvania, after all).
And for the more refined tastes, original artwork was available such as this glass window made with bottles. (It was actually quite beautiful – I wish I had a place to put something like this.)
They even sold these swirlie things, although I’m honestly not sure what they are.
And don’t forget about the food. Everywhere we went, people were munching on mile-high nachos, chili-covered hot dogs, or cheesy slices of pizza. Every greasy, heart-clogging piece of food you could possibly want was found here.
I think I gained five pounds just smelling it.
After the husband had a hotdog, we walked around and watched some of the local entertainment. I particularly liked the banjo, it kind-of reminded me of home.
And then it was time for the main event, the attraction that had brought people from far and wide, the one thing that had everyone shaking with anticipation.
Yes folks, it was a car parade. And not just any car parade, but an OLD car parade. (My husband would call them ‘classic’ cars, but what do I know?) I might not know a lot about them, but I know enough to be awed by the sight of this:
I mean it’s gorgeous. Who wouldn’t be impressed with it? Someone has obviously spent hours restoring it and babying it.
Just like they did for this car:
Wow – what a beaut! Makes me think of that show MadMen that we’re so addicted to.
Speaking of MadMen, can’t you see Betty (a.k.a. January Jones) driving around in this car?. You can’t go wrong with a station wagon. I wonder if this was the equivalent of a mini-van back in the 50s?
Now on to this orange car with the white hubcaps. THIS would not be mistaken for a mini-van:
Nor would this beautiful blue number. It was one of my personal favorites.
So much so that I took two pictures of it!
Here’s another car from the same time period. I don’t know what it is about these cars that I liked so much. Something about their round, smooth lines and the oh-so-cool white hubcaps. They’re so classy and elegant, aren’t they?
We’re getting a little more modern with this one. I’m thinking 60s maybe?
They had other cars too, from the 20s and 30s and even the 70s, but I didn’t take a lot of pictures of them. I think it’s safe to say that the 70s cars didn’t do a thing for me. (shudder) Nope, not a thing. In fact, this blue car is pushing it a little but I figured it was close enough to the 60s styles that I could handle it.
So that was the parade. Now you know how small towns like to “roll.” (Roll – get it? I crack myself up.)
Once the parade was over, there wasn’t much left to do. The shopping was nice and the weather was beautiful but between the long drive up and the anticipated long drive back, we were ready to go. We had seen enough of the small-town festival to last us for a while. At least until next year…
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