THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Thursday, October 13, 1994 TAG: 9410130164
SECTION: SUFFOLK SUN PAGE: 12 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: THE SUN STAFF
DATELINE: SUFFOLK LENGTH: Long : 255 lines
PEANUT FEST 1994 was blessed with ideal weather, and the people turned out in droves.
If you are into facts and figures, mark Peanut Fest '94 as one of the biggest, if not the biggest, so far as attendance is concerned. Credit the name performers as well as the weather.
Wayne Smith, a past chairman who serves as entertainment chairman, offers a ballpark attendance figure, on Saturday for example, of about 70,000.
The biggest success story this year was the Marshall Tucker Band. They may be a couple of decades old and they may be without chart hits, but they are not without fans. The band packed them in, had them standing from one end of the site to the other, probably the most succesful act in Fest history. The volunteers who work with them have more good news, citing the band members as very nice guys. There is similar praise for Poco, whose members walked around the fair and had a good time.
``The crowd this year is the best,'' said Fest chairwoman Roberta Bunch. ``We've had no problems - or, fewer than normally. Yet, it's the largest crowd.''
So come along with us on a walking tour of the sights and sounds from Peanut Fest 1994.
SATURDAY, OCT. 1
10 a.m. - Downtown SuffolkThe first major Peanut Fest to-do is the parade. The Crestar Bank-sponsored event is one of the biggest yet.
And, the winners are:
Bands: Windsor High School wins the Spirit Award. First, second and third place go to Nansemond River High, Lakeland High, Nansemond Suffolk Academy.
Floats: Autumn Care is judged to have the best. The Best Entry award goes to Paws & Claws. The Windsor School of Dance gets honorable mention.
- Frank Roberts
THURSDAY, OCT. 6
4:55 p.m. - The Ruritan Club Shrimp Feast, at Peanut Fest Congressional candidate George Sweet stumps for votes in the November race against 4th District incumbent Norman Sisisky. Sweet, who towers over most festivalgoers, appears to walk on stilts as he moves through the crowd, shaking hands as the campaign enters its last month.
A few feet away, Jerry Flowers is getting a head start on the 1995 race for the Virginia Senate seat held by Richard J. Holland of Windsor.
``Richard's a good friend,'' says Flowers, as he hands out ``Virginians for Jerry Flowers'' campaign literature. ``He just needs to retire.''
Flowers, a Franklin mortgage broker, says he will announce his candidacy later, probably in January.
``I believe you just announced,'' says a reporter, taking one of his cards.
- Susie Stoughton
5:05 p.m. - Shrimp Feast entrance The newcomer hands in his ticket as he passes through the entrance to the open field that is the Shrimp Feast site. Except that the field is hardly open. It is Packed, with a capital P.
``How am I going to hook up with the others?'' he wonders as he draws a beer from the Bud truck and wanders off through the crowd.
He has never been to the Ruritans' annual fund-raiser. New to Peanut Fest, he has been told by co-workers that ``the feast'' is special. But he has not comprehended what they were trying to tell him.
He walks toward the rising barbecue smoke and makes his way to the serving-lines tent. There are so many lines, there is no waiting. That is a surprise, given the thousands of people who have moved through the lines, holding their sturdy paper plates out for mounds of shrimp plus fried chicken, barbecued pork, slaw, potato salad and a roll. All you can eat.
And that's when he finds himself standing in another field, filled with long, narrow tables, one after the other - he hasn't the time to count them all - each one lined on both sides by people standing up to eat, to feast, on their shrimp and whatnot. It is the biggest mess of people eating in one place that he has ever seen.
He stands there surveying the incredible scene, a beer in one hand, plate mounded with shrimp in the other. His jaw is probably down around his knees.
And that's when the newcomer finally comprehends the thing they call Shrimp Feast.
- Don Naden
7 p.m. - Main parking area at Peanut Fest The woman wanders up and down the rows, searching for her car, as she has been doing for the past 30 minutes.
``I know it's out here somewhere,'' she says, laughing as she meets countless other lost drivers.
Hours earlier when she parked, the woman had picked out a landmark - a castle of sorts across the way inside the park. But now everything looks different, and there's no ``castle'' in sight.
``They need to mark these rows somehow,'' another searcher says.
- Susie Stoughton
7:15 p.m. - Main parking area `It's fun finding your car, isn't it?'' asks another woman looking for her vehicle.
The fun is beginning to wear thin, says the first woman, who is now late for an appointment. Nightfall blankets the sea of cars as the woman heads down another row, retracing her steps once more. A man walks past, looking for his car and for the two women he came with, just as his friends appear.
``We need to spread out,'' one of the women says. ``We can each look on a different aisle.''
- Susie Stoughton
7:25 p.m. - Main parking area An interior light in a Honda Civic illuminates a ``Club'' on the steering wheel. The battery may be dead when the driver returns, the wandering woman thinks, but at least the car will be there.
Suddenly, she wonders if her car might have been stolen, which would explain why she can't find it.
A frustrated man who has also been searching a while walks by.
``I hate to wait until everybody leaves to find my car,'' he says. ``But if I don't find it soon, I'm going back in there and get drunk.''
- Susie Stoughton
7:33 p.m. - Main parking area Can it be true? Is that really my car? the woman wonders, afraid to get too excited.
She checks the license plate. Unbelievable.
She unlocks the door and slips behind the steering wheel, her legs aching and her fingers numb from the cool evening air.
Didn't I walk past this spot earlier? she wonders, turning up the heat.
- Susie Stoughton
FRIDAY, OCT. 7
11 a.m. - Children's activity areaThe ringmaster of the Alberti Flea Circus is setting up his props. He arrived a little late because he had car trouble on the way, he says.
``I was stuck at 6:30 this morning out on Route 58. And it seems the Suffolk AAA is in a fishing tournament this weekend.''
Help finally arrived two hours later, he says.
``Maybe we should call and complain,'' says a spectator, a local resident and AAA member.
``No,'' the ringmaster says, ``call them and find out if they won the tournament.''
- Susie Stoughton
12:46 p.m. - A booth inside the craft tentAcustomer asks if the vendor would take a personal check for a scented, cloth-covered trivet she wants to buy.
``Yes, ma'am, we take checks,'' says the craftsman, stitching floral fabric at a sewing machine near the rear of his booth. ``It's a known fact that people who like crafts don't give bad checks.''
As the customer signs her name, the man says: ``We've been doing this for eight years, and we have never had a bad check.''
- Susie Stoughton
SATURDAY, OCT. 6
4:55 p.m. - Festival grounds Politically, he is nonpartisan. Anyway, he lives in North Carolina and, obviously, will not be voting in the Old Dominion's U.S. senatorial race. But, boy, he can't help but notice the aggressiveness of the Oliver North campaign. Workers assail him with stickers - bumper and lapel - seemingly every few feet. In the exhibition tent are lots of people, balloons, etc. The Robb campaigners have a booth with little on it and no one in it.
One sweet little 5-year-old has a Sweet sticker on her pigtail, courtesy of 4th District congressional candidate George Sweet, who seems to be coat-tailing North.
- Frank Roberts
5:15 p.m. - Arts and crafts tent Alittle girl is intent on looking at the airplanes parked nearby.
``Daddy, daddy - look,'' she begs.
``We can see them,'' dad says. ``You've said it nine times.''
- Frank Roberts
5:30 p.m. - Arts and crafts tent Awoman and her husband stroll through the tent. She notes that several of the exhibitors offer the same things. He observes, ``They all subscribe to the same magazines.''
- Frank Roberts
6:40 p.m. - Kids' area The little girl is in a wheelchair, unable to toss darts at the balloons in a game booth. But she is easily able to handle the stuffed toys the man behind the counter gives her. Fuzzy-puppy time.
- Frank Roberts
6:45 p.m. - Standing in line for a festival ride The annual county fair in Edenton, N.C., has an interesting pricing policy. You pay an admission price of $7, they put a wrist band on you and you and the kiddies can ride all day long. If there is one complaint about Peanut Fest, it has to do with standing in line for tickets, then standing in line again for the rides.
- Frank Roberts
7 p.m. - On the Midway They used to call them freak shows. Whatever the name, they seem to be coming back, although not too many people are seen going in to the two on the fairgrounds in spite of an announcer blaring forth with the news that his offerings are highly unusual. They are advertised as shocking, startling, bizarre, unusual. Shoot, you can get all that on a television talk show.
- Frank Roberts 7:30 p.m
Near the back entranceCpl. Junius Jackson of the Suffolk Police Department certainly deserves recognition. A mother is having a hard time maneuvering her daughter's wheelchair over a gravel driveway. Jackson comes along, pushes it, gets it onto the lift in the van, talks softly to the youngster. A few moments later he is observed talking to another child, this one riding in a little red wagon. Fuzzy-puppy time, again.
- Frank Roberts
SUNDAY, OCT. 9
2:05 p.m. - The freak showFor a mere $2 in tickets, I go to see The Human Blockhead.
For most of the crowd at Peanut Fest, this sideshow freak show is something to stare at from beyond the entranceway. They are smart. I paid $2 to watch a guy pound a nail into his nasal cavity with a microphone. Afterward, he plunges a screwdriver in there.
Maybe the woman whose head turns into a skeleton would be better, I think. It wasn't. After the master of ceremonies says the box she places her head into contains radioactive cylinders, my doubts rise.
Maybe the Gorilla Girl will be cool. She isn't. Nor is the spider woman or the fire eater or the woman holding the boa constrictor. My friends and I leave early.
But as we walk outside, a small child with her family tugs at her father's shirttail.
``Let's go. Let's go. Let's go!!'' she pleads with rare excitement. It is then I realize that, maybe, it will be worth $2 to somebody. Maybe.
- Mac Daniel
3 p.m. - Peanut Fest officeOne festival official estimates a two-mile line of cars waiting to get in. Oh, and it would be interesting to find out the number of people who can't find where the dickens they parked. Two dim reporters are numbered in that group.
- Frank Roberts
3:45 p.m. - Peanut Fest office AFest official notes that the Family Area is usually the slowest, after 8 p.m., so far as visitors are concerned. Not so this year. The crowds keep a-comin'. The biggest crowds at the Fest are found, not surprisingly, at the carnival site operated by Degellen Attractions, the same folks who do the Virginia State Fair.
- Frank Roberts
4 p.m. - At the Main Stage `Test . . . test . . . test . . . test,'' says the roadee for The Mavericks as he signals technicians to boost the speakers' output.
``Test . . . test . . . test . . . test,'' he says, again. Then, out of the blue, he begins mouthing the microphone, placing his entire mouth over the mike and letting out some weird guttural groan. ``Aaaargh . . . Aaaargh . . . ,'' he utters, giving the technicians the thumbs up.
Five minutes later, the sound is still being checked by more guttural sounds. Guitars are tuned, basses are thumped. But still no Mavericks.
Then, out of the back of the crowd comes a loud voice that needs no amplification.
``You guys make some nice music,'' the heckler says. ``But you ain't no Mavericks.''
- Mac Daniel
6:30 p.m. - At the Main Stage Not surprisingly, the red-hot country group the Mavericks draws a large crowd, getting the most applause for their hits, but plenty for their variety of music, including one for the kiddies, ``Wimoweh.'' After the Mavericks' presentation, a pretty 12-year-old budding country singer asks lead vocalist Raul Malo for advice on how to make it in the business. His first piece of advice is, ``Don't do it.'' Then he gets serious and advises her to ``do what you love.'' It's working for the Mavericks.
- Frank Roberts ILLUSTRATION: Staff photo by JOHN H. SHEALLY II
The Midway, with its bright lights, rides and games, attract
festgoers at night.
Staff photo by MICHAEL KESTNER
Staff photos by JOHN H. SHEALLY II
ABOVE: Prizes await lucky players who stop for a game in the
carnival atmosphere of the Midway. Who will play?
AT LEFT: The courageous brave the Super Slide under sunny skies
Sunday, the final day of the festival.
AT RIGHT: Britte Brown of Suffolk waves a friends from the
helicopter ride, shared with several other children.
Staff photo by MICHAEL KESTNER
Thousands cram the site of the Shrimp Feast, sponsored by the
Ruritan Club. It's one of the most popular events of the Fest.
by CNB