St. Paul’s fair kicked off this evening. I have many fond memories of this fair, especially when it was held at Riverside School – my contemporaries will remember the stuffed deer head that appeared, year after year, at the White Elephant tent - one of us would buy it and a year later, someone’s mom would insist on its return. I’m pretty sure that it ended up at our house, but memory is a funny thing, so perhaps not.
But I do remember 1988 when, newly fired from a law firm and struggling to establish a solo practice, I had three kids who wanted to go to the fair and I had no money to pay for it. I scraped up $30, ten each, which even back then, wasn’t much. I explained the situation to my children and we set off, had a great time and quit when our funds ran out. Things improved after that and each year thereafter our fair budget increased, but I, and I hope my kids, remember that impoverished summer and are grateful for what has come our way.
So if you think I’ve grown accustomed to selling multi-million dollar homes and have no sympathy or understanding of plain folk trying to get by and move into a nice town, you’re wrong. I Nancy and I got our kids through college and set on their own paths to success, but I’ll always remember St. Pauls’ Fair.




