Love a Fair

We are all resting at our house after the Southeast Alaska State Fair, which we all agreed was one of the best, if not the best, in years. Dancing Friday night to the Curtis Delgado Chicago blues-style band from Portland,  Chip kept laughing and saying, "look how old everyone is." It's true. The dance floor during that 7:30-10:00 set was mostly we gray hairs, but as my friend Teresa said, "we showed the kids how to boogie." My own kids apparently enjoyed crowd-surfing into the wee hours Saturday and then slept most of Sunday. They woke up in time for a king salmon dinner and we all laughed a lot. The beginning of last week was so hard on a lot of hearts,  (you can read all about it at the CVN) thank goodness it ended on a wonderfully happy high note. Sort of. Or almost? After the dishes were done and Grandma Joanne had gone to bed and Sarah and the baby had headed home,  those of us left in the kitchen learned of the death of popular long-time resident Pete Lapham, who has been battling cancer for some time, when the fire department called it out on their radios so all the volunteers could respond. They took, I heard, every truck up to Pete's house to pick up his body, and then processed back down through town at ten at night, in a kind of  honor parade to the fire hall. (Which also houses the morgue.) That's what I meant when I said "sort of" and "almost" about the high notes of the Fair and the lower note that followed. But even with such sorrow, thinking about that real parade of firetrucks and firefighters (in rigs still all polished up from the Fair parade) makes you smile, doesn't it? 


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