By Steve Flairty
NKyTribune columnist
The 2026 Kentucky State Fair, designed to bring our state’s citizens together to celebrate our common resources — material and human — is now in session and it’s stoked a few enriching memories for me. I hope it does for others, too.
A few years back, I wrote here about a fun day Suzanne and I spent at the modern fair. This week, I thought it might be fun to look back at some childhood memories the Flairty family from Campbell County had many decades ago.
The earliest visit I can recall was probably in the early 1960s, when I was seven or eight, and it was hot. We did a lot of walking from the parking lot to the activities area, and of course, my brother, Mike, and I wanted to go to the rides area as soon as possible. Our family strolled through the area first, with the idea of doing one or two rides later. I’ll never forget the heat, the smells of popcorn, corn dogs, and cotton candy—and sticky shoes from such food that had fallen to the blacktop pavement, creating an almost comical clicking sound emanating from the soles of our shoes.
It’s easy to conjure up, over a half century later, the ambiance of those moments. Not always pleasant, but always memorable.
But the many exhibits, housed in buildings that I don’t recall being air conditioned, were what the Flairty family spent most of their time experiencing. And to be honest, some of those exhibits were of little interest to Mike and me, as many were showcased with lots of big words and somewhat abstract thoughts. One I remember, and one which made little Stevie nervous, was the Emergency Fallout Shelter exhibit, a sure sign of the times. It was commonplace to hear talk of possible atomic warfare between America and the Soviet Union. And even at my young age, I carried unspoken worries with me, especially while in bed at night.
Each year, little Stevie wanted to go back to the Fair anyway.
Always, there was “Freddy Farm Bureau,” the eighteen-feet tall interactive figure who played the role of agriculture ambassador and, actually, the official Kentucky State Fair greeter. It was true that on the day of the State Fair, I would have one friend besides my parents watching out for me, especially if I somehow got lost.
Back to the rides (today called “Thrillsville,”). I once pushed my dad to the limits trying to allow me a ride presented as maneuvering through a hokey-looking haunted house, its name I forgot. Usually not a pushover, Dad waved the white flag this time and said “OK.” Turns out, I screamed when it came time and didn’t want to board the seats. Dad MADE me go anyway and sitting aside me, held his strong hands over my eyes to reassure me. I survived and learned a lesson for life, that sometimes you had better watch what you ask for.
As an aside, this sounds like a good time to share another story of emotional meltdown at the Kentucky State Fair, this one told by my senior minister at the Versailles First Christian Church, the Rev. Marcus Lynn. It seems that his four-year-old son, Micah, had been raised to dislike tobacco because his grandmother Lynn, he learned, had died from lung cancer. While visiting the tobacco leaf display with his great-grandfather, Micah “started screaming to stay away lest we all get cancer,” explained Marcus. Kids are often watching and listening more than we think, it seems.
And now back to the Flairty trip to the State Fair. Usually before we left for the day, the four of us would take a stroll through the livestock section. The strong scent of hay and mulch (to control odors) and seemingly, to my young eyes, the biggest cows and pigs in the world made it not exciting, but, at least, interesting. On an occasion or two, we met a farm boy we knew staying stable side to his cow over several days and sleeping at night on a cot. I tended to get homesick fairly easily, and thoughts of myself being there in a strange place weren’t pleasant ones.
And all the time(s) at the Kentucky State Fair as a child, I knew we were there because Dad loved our state, and he wanted his family to love it, too. That stuck with me then, and now.
Last week while Suzanne and I visited the 2026 State Fair, we enjoyed the air-conditioned buildings and many of the exhibits, as well as meeting up with staff members of Kentucky Living, a magazine for which I occasionally contribute articles. At Thrillsville, we noticed no sticky soles tapping. We enjoyed our beef hot dogs that we bought at a concession stand (though not cheap at $8 each, we figured it was for a good cause), but before we left, Suzanne reminded me to go see Freddy Farm Bureau . . . it had been a while.
I talked to Freddy and told him he hadn’t changed much since I was a kid, and he responded that lots of people tell him that and he had been there since 1958. Stepping back, an elderly woman presented herself to Freddy, announcing that she had a question for him.
Woman: Freddy, they moved a lot of parking away from the front to the back where it’s far away. Can you do anything to get that changed?
Freddy: No, Ma’am. Sorry, but that’s above Freddy’s pay grade. Can’t help you there.
I finally figured out that there was a man somewhere else faking Freddy’s voice, and the big guy wasn’t real. I still think the world of Freddy, though.
The Kentucky State Fair . . . always.
Steve Flairty is a teacher, public speaker and an author of seven books: a biography of Kentucky Afield host Tim Farmer and six in the Kentucky’s Everyday Heroes series, including a kids’ version. Steve’s “Kentucky’s Everyday Heroes #5,” was released in 2019. Steve is a senior correspondent for Kentucky Monthly, a weekly NKyTribune columnist, and a former member of the Kentucky Humanities Council Speakers Bureau. Contact him at sflairty2001@yahoo.com or visit his Facebook page, “Kentucky in Common: Word Sketches in Tribute.”