'Twas the Night Before Hershey
Posted: Mon Oct 04, 2021 8:11 pm
I write this back in 2017 and started posting it on Facebook each year ahead if the AACA Hershey Fall Meet. Though you kids might enjoy. See you at the show!
...Twas the night before Hershey and all through the fields, not a creature was stirring, footed or wheeled. The tables were set in vendor spaces with care, with hope in the morning buyers would be there. Old men were nestled all snug in camper bunk beds, with visions of that elusive part dancing in their heads...
And dad with his duster coat, and I with my touring cap, had just settled down in our Winnebago for a pre-Hershey nap.
When right down the row, there arose a loud sputter, I arose from the bunk and peered through the clutter. Away out the door I flew as if powered by White Flash, knocking into a Whizzer bike, to the ground it did crash.
The parking lot lights making an Erie pump globe glow, shinned light on a distant hulk, moving quite slow. Then along, what should hit my sensitive ears? but a backfire and hissing and gnashing of gears! With a grey haired old driver, so lively and quick, it took a moment to discern if the transmission was planetary or stick. More lively than snare drums, the tappets of his auto's valve train. He ran through the aisles calling out autos by name!
Now Corvair, now Edsel, now Hudson and Pontiac .. on Buick on Studebaker, on to Oldsmobile and Cadillac. To the edge of the green field. To the chocolate field annex. If you don't find that part, there's no need to panic! As the Cyclops light on the Tucker follows the steering down the road as it flies... That long lost part is here somewhere If you open your eyes.
And as I blinked through the darkness He turned around and called,
Happy Hershey to you sir, Happy Fall Meet to all!
(Composition and Photo by Andy Blaydon - 2017)
...Twas the night before Hershey and all through the fields, not a creature was stirring, footed or wheeled. The tables were set in vendor spaces with care, with hope in the morning buyers would be there. Old men were nestled all snug in camper bunk beds, with visions of that elusive part dancing in their heads...
And dad with his duster coat, and I with my touring cap, had just settled down in our Winnebago for a pre-Hershey nap.
When right down the row, there arose a loud sputter, I arose from the bunk and peered through the clutter. Away out the door I flew as if powered by White Flash, knocking into a Whizzer bike, to the ground it did crash.
The parking lot lights making an Erie pump globe glow, shinned light on a distant hulk, moving quite slow. Then along, what should hit my sensitive ears? but a backfire and hissing and gnashing of gears! With a grey haired old driver, so lively and quick, it took a moment to discern if the transmission was planetary or stick. More lively than snare drums, the tappets of his auto's valve train. He ran through the aisles calling out autos by name!
Now Corvair, now Edsel, now Hudson and Pontiac .. on Buick on Studebaker, on to Oldsmobile and Cadillac. To the edge of the green field. To the chocolate field annex. If you don't find that part, there's no need to panic! As the Cyclops light on the Tucker follows the steering down the road as it flies... That long lost part is here somewhere If you open your eyes.
And as I blinked through the darkness He turned around and called,
Happy Hershey to you sir, Happy Fall Meet to all!
(Composition and Photo by Andy Blaydon - 2017)