I came to the Utah State Fair with a purpose, just as every person does.
But my purpose wasn’t to befriend the farm animals, devour the brightly colored cotton candy, peruse the hundreds of booths featuring creative works from across the state or even to gorge myself on the poutine drenched french fries.
My purpose was to find the oldest person at the Utah State fair. The way it turned out was nothing groundbreaking but it became a sweet moment of genuine connection and shared laughter with a stranger-turned-friend. Sitting at a picnic table on a warm September day, I discovered how two people can find meaning in a one-on-one conversation in the middle of a crowd of thousands.
Having never been to the fair myself, I figured that if I wanted to wrap my mind around the traditions of animals, family, food and fun, I needed to acquaint myself with someone who had been here the longest.
To my surprise, I achieved my goal within minutes after stepping onto the fair grounds. Perhaps, with a little more searching and well-placed questions I could have found someone older than the 78-year-old spunky Ginny Dignam, but none with quite her sense of humor.
My eyes were first drawn to the brightly colored turquoise and pink tie-dye t-shirt.
An old woman sat hunched over a canvas with a handful of colored pencils clutched in her grip. Another woman, many years her junior, sat beside her in a matching tie-dye t-shirt, steadily pulling her crochet hook in and out of the yarn.
I made my way over to their picnic table laden with colored pencils, yarn, a sketchbook and a sun hat that had been cast aside with the overcast sky.
“What are you drawing?” I asked. Quite the introduction, very to the point.
Ginny Dignam gave a little huff and waved her wrinkled hand across the canvas.
“A highland cow,” she said. Then, after a pause and a sly smile, “or a ‘heilan' coo'."
“That’s her terrible Scottish accent,” Kaitlin Dignam, Ginny's daughter, said with a laugh. “You would think after being married to a Scotsman for so many years…”
Ginny chuckled as she went back to work on her canvas. The shared laugh felt like an invitation to join the merry table.
I sat down and listened as Ginny explained the fair's art contest she had entered. Each contestant was given a canvas and the opportunity to have their art displayed on the wall for the crowds to see.
“But canvas is so difficult to draw on,” Ginny said with a shake of her head. That didn’t stop her hands from working steadily on her "heilan' coo" adding blades of grass for the furry animal to rest its legs on.
To my delight, I found that Ginny was perhaps the most loyal Utah State Fair attendee that I could've stumbled across and essentially had both Utah State fair and pioneer heritage flowing through her veins. Her pioneer ancestors had arrived in Utah in 1856, the same year that the fair began.
"My dad and I would always get a corn dog," Ginny told me. That was their special state fair tradition since she was a little girl.
"I can't eat them now because I'm gluten intolerant," Ginny said regretfully.
But the change in her diet hasn't stopped Ginny from attending the fair nearly every year, eventually bringing each of her children in tow. Although much in the world has changed since Ginny was a little girl, there are a few beloved traditions at the fair that have stayed the same.
Animals have always remained on the top of the must see list for Ginny and Kaitlin at the state fair every year.
"I think it's good for kids to come and see the animals, you know, because a lot of kids, they just live in the city their whole life," Ginny said.
I agreed, but Ginny needed to emphasize her point. She set down her colored pencil and looked at me indignantly.
"Even my oldest daughter said, 'I didn't know there was moose in Utah,'" Ginny said. She threw her hands up in the air in disbelief as Kaitlin and I laughed.
Nothing groundbreaking was shared at that picnic table on the warm September day at the fair. But in a people-filled place where one can feel lost in a crowd of thousands, it was a sweet moment of genuine connection and shared laughter with strangers.