There’s a little something missing

Last weekend marked the return of the Cornell Community Fair, with the All-School & Community Reunion held in conjunction. It was a great time, a great turnout, with scads of people, all visiting, laughing, dancing and enjoying themselves, the first big, public event here since COVID came into our lives.

As a new member of the Fair Committee, it was exhausting, but so much fun; we worked really hard to make it a good – for the most part – free event for all ages, and I think we succeeded. It was like old times, with cars parked three rows deep, all over the Mill Yard Park area.

We had terrific bands, wonderful (except for the last day) weather, good food and fun happenings. I smiled so much to see my community happy, I think my cheeks still hurt. I know my knee does, after dancing all night Saturday!

But still, it seemed like something was missing. After thinking on it a while, I realized it wasn’t something, but someone. As an institution at not only our local fair, but those around the state, Wayne Meyer’s yellowish-orangishbrownish cheese curd stand was a familiar sight for more years than I can count.

I don’t know what made his freshly fried cheese curds so good, but they were the best I’ve ever, or probably will, ever have, and it wasn’t a fair experience if you didn’t have at least one helping of them. Then there was the lemonade shake-up!!

Made with real, fresh lemon slices, that drink in its white, orange and yellow patterned cup, really hit the spot on a hot summer day. I can taste its frothy, frostiness right now, after Wayne’s self-proclaimed, “shaking the Hell out of it.”

When ordering my curds and lemonade, Wayne always made me do the math on how much I owed him, because he wasn’t impressed if you didn’t know if someone was cheating you. For example, if I gave him $7, and my total was $6.50, with a mischievous grin, he’d say, “So, you owe me $10, right?”

See, Wayne didn’t tease just anyone, but we had a history, which began when I was barely tall enough to see over the top of the cheese curd stand counter. My first encounter with Wayne, was at the Ashland County Fair, when we still lived in Mellen.

I fell head over heels in love with his cheese curds right there and when we moved to Cornell, I mourned the fact that I would never taste them again. Until one day, I saw that same man drive by on our road, in his tan-red pickup truck.

Was it him? It had to be! Wasn’t it?

It was confirmed when Wayne pulled into the drive one day, after spotting our sign advertising Walla-Walla onions for sale. Because Dad was a champion grower, I boasted to Wayne that all our onions weighed at least two pounds.

He took me up on my boast and said if it was under two pounds, he got the onion free. Thankfully, my pride was intact, as it weighed just a couple ounces over the 2 pounds. Wayne told me later, that was the best onion he ever had and that the slice covered his whole sandwich.

In talking with him a bit during that encounter, I discovered he was our neighbor, only two roads over. Talk about a small world. Of course, I also discovered later on, he had his stand here at the annual fair and was understandably excited.

Little did I know, he would play a very important role in my life. When I reached adulthood, he gave me my first job – pre-wiring pinecones to attach to Christmas wreaths. It didn’t pay much, but he trusted me with custom orders and treated me with respect, as well as dishing out a healthy dose of teasing.

I’ll be forever grateful that not only did I get to know the people who worked at the “plant,” but also for the time Wayne and I spent talking. He remains one of the wisest men I have ever met, and while he could come across as gruff and grouchy, he was fair: you treat him right and work hard, he treats you right and values you.

I worked for him for a few years, but my allergies eventually forced me to give up wiring the cones, as the dust coming off them was too much to take. However, Wayne wasn’t upset, but was maybe a little sad I was leaving his employ.

He always jokingly asked me when I was coming back to wire cones. He also would tell me whenever we met, how proud he was of me, of how far I had come, and how impressed he was with the articles and photos I had in the paper.

It means a lot that he would say that, because Wayne didn’t give praise unless he really meant it. It also touched me, that even as his health declined, he’d rally with a smile for me in the bank or post office, and tell me he missed me working for him.

When Wayne passed away last year, I cried as though I’d lost my own grandfather. I’ll be forever grateful to him for all he passed on to me and for his friendship. At this year’s fair, I stood in the empty spot where his cheese curd stand always was placed, and wished him love and peace, wherever he is.

Yes, something, someone, was definitely missing, and always will be, but the memories left behind will live on. I think Wayne would be happy with how busy the fair was and I laughed, when I pictured him heckling people who were lined up for his famous cheese curds and lemonade shakeup.

He’d also smirk if I told him the competitor’s food wasn’t nearly as good, and have some remark about he could have told me that and saved me the trouble. You could have indeed, Wayne. You could have indeed.