When I was growing up I was a proud member of the Raisin Slickers 4-H Club. My grandfather actually started it in the late 40s. Now, 30 years later, I was carrying on the family tradition. At the Lenawee County Fair, I exhibited my woodworking projects, my garden vegetables and rabbits. I won some blue ribbons, some red ribbons and my only white ribbon came in woodworking. Even as a 10-year-old I wasn't good with power tools.
The bunny barn was a small enclosed building at the fairgrounds. It was dark, dusty and there truly were dust bunnies. The rabbit dander, dust and urine caused me to develop a terrible allergy to the rabbits thus ending my illustrious rabbit breeding career before it barely got started.
My dad raised cattle - 200 head a year - and I assumed that when he decided I was old enough - I would take a steer to the fair. My father's friends had sons and they showed steers, leading them around the show barn arena, showing off their grooming and handling skills. I knew that if the boys could do it - I could do it - better.
The summer that I was 11, I had almost talked my dad into letting me have a steer to take to the fair the next summer. But Leon Jones ruined it for me. Leon was a little bit older and a lot bigger than me. He was already in high school. Leon was leading his steer around so it could get some exercise when it spooked. Leon tried to hold on and was dragged a bit before he let go of the lead line. The steer took off, running down the mid-way of the fairgrounds. That incident sealed my fate - NO STEER!
That incident happened in August and by February, I was still pestering my dad for a steer.
Every month we had a 4-H meeting. I'd only been in the club for a couple of years and was still considered one of the little kids. We didn't really take part in the meetings, we just sat there. True, most of the business meeting went over my head. Except at this meeting, I heard a word that grabbed my attention - RAFFLE. The meeting would conclude with a raffle.
"Dad, Dad - can I put my name in the raffle?"
My dad and the other dads were hanging out in the back of the room talking and not paying much attention to us kids.
"I don't care."
I raced back up front and put my name in the hat. Those who didn't enter the drawing were already putting on their coats and heading out. My dad and a couple of others were still in the back talking.
The club president reached into the hat and drew out a name. I held my breath - I didn't even know what the drawing was for, but I din't care.
"Tami Frye"
"YEAH! I won!" I raced to the back of the room. "Dad, I won, I won!"
One of the other men congratulated us.
And what did I win? I won...a...300 pound pregnant pig. Due date about a month. The goal of the raffle - raise the litter, show them at the fair and breed one of the piglets for next year's drawing. It was a year long learning experience! Hooray for me!
"Tell them to draw another name."
But the names of the others had been thrown away and almost everyone was gone. There wouldn't be a second drawing. We were told we could pick up the sow in the next few days.
It was a very long 5 miles home. My dad didn't say a word. He just gripped the steering wheel and stared straight ahead.
When we got home, I raced in the house. "MOMMMMMMM" I screamed. "Guess what? I won a pregnant pig. She's going to have babies and I'm gonna raise them and show them at the fair!"
My mother looked strickened. My father sat at the kitchen table, his head in his hands. I understand he sat there most of the night. Did I mention, we raised steers - NOT pigs. We weren't equipped to raise pigs.
But within a few days - Spot - that's what I named my pig - came home. She had a litter of piglets and that summer I showed - not a steer, but a pair of pigs. I took Reserved Grand Champion, but showing pigs at the fair is another story for another time.
Within a few years, the cattle were gone, the barns converted over and we were raising pigs. All because one night, I put my name in a raffle for a pregnant pig.
I could say there is a lesson to be learned, but winning a pregnant pig, raising piglets and showing them at the fair is something you just have to experience to appreciate.
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