Summertime in Drummond had both good and bad aspects. There was the miserable Oklahoma plains heat, but there was also the ice cream case at Mac’s Grocery. Stand in front of that thing for a minute and life was good again. There was mind numbing boredom at times, but there was also riding bikes, chowing at church pot luck suppers, hanging out with friends, and smooching that girl you’ve had your eye on. While not everyone in town attended church or smooched girls, we all attended the end of summer Drummond Watermelon Feed, the town festival that took place just before school was to start back for the fall semester.
Some people may have watched the festivities from afar, some participated, and some worked the event. I was always a mere attendee. You could win more prizes that way! Out in the open air (and eventually under the pavilion), a giant bingo game was held all evening until the table full of prizes ran out. When I was in grade school and junior high, the cost of a bingo card was ten cents. For one thin dime you had the chance to win a football, a basket of fruit, a board game, or dozens of other great things. If bingo wasn’t your forte, there were sack races and horseshoe pitching, egg toss and water balloon fights. I’m not sure if the water balloon fights were a sanctioned event, but I know I got pelted a few times and always returned fire. At the center of all this hullabaloo was a giant trailer full of big juicy watermelons. As the name Watermelon Feed would suggest, you and your family could go down to the park, belly up to the melon table, and gorge yourself on free slabs of the delicious red fruit. There were a bevy of helpers wearing knife safe gloves lopping off edible sized pieces of watermelon. Most of the time I would stand there like a goober and watch for ten minutes before I snapped back to reality and grabbed a slice. After your face was well coated in juice, and your slice had been devoured, you would heave the rind up into a dump truck conveniently located near the table. I once stood by the truck for twenty minutes helping little old ladies chuck their rinds into the truck. Each time I thought I could escape, another smiling, blue-haired beauty would say “I saw you toss Myrna’s rind into the truck. Can you help me with mine?” Since my mom and pop raised me right, I smiled back and hucked another spent rind into the dump truck.
By the end of the night, I was tired from running around, wet from water balloons, and sticky from watermelon juice. I would hang around until nearly everyone had gone home, save the die hard bingo players vying for that last big prize. I would often wonder if people in big cities had festivals too. I would later learn that, in fact, they did have festivals…giant festivals. Since I left Drummond, I have attended quite a few of the bigger festivals. Hopefully soon I’ll make the big trip to Rio so I can say I’ve attended the big one. But, you know what none of those giant festivals have? Free watermelon. Bam! Drummond wins again!
See some of the other things I'm up to at www.JonathanElmore.weebly.com
Some people may have watched the festivities from afar, some participated, and some worked the event. I was always a mere attendee. You could win more prizes that way! Out in the open air (and eventually under the pavilion), a giant bingo game was held all evening until the table full of prizes ran out. When I was in grade school and junior high, the cost of a bingo card was ten cents. For one thin dime you had the chance to win a football, a basket of fruit, a board game, or dozens of other great things. If bingo wasn’t your forte, there were sack races and horseshoe pitching, egg toss and water balloon fights. I’m not sure if the water balloon fights were a sanctioned event, but I know I got pelted a few times and always returned fire. At the center of all this hullabaloo was a giant trailer full of big juicy watermelons. As the name Watermelon Feed would suggest, you and your family could go down to the park, belly up to the melon table, and gorge yourself on free slabs of the delicious red fruit. There were a bevy of helpers wearing knife safe gloves lopping off edible sized pieces of watermelon. Most of the time I would stand there like a goober and watch for ten minutes before I snapped back to reality and grabbed a slice. After your face was well coated in juice, and your slice had been devoured, you would heave the rind up into a dump truck conveniently located near the table. I once stood by the truck for twenty minutes helping little old ladies chuck their rinds into the truck. Each time I thought I could escape, another smiling, blue-haired beauty would say “I saw you toss Myrna’s rind into the truck. Can you help me with mine?” Since my mom and pop raised me right, I smiled back and hucked another spent rind into the dump truck.
By the end of the night, I was tired from running around, wet from water balloons, and sticky from watermelon juice. I would hang around until nearly everyone had gone home, save the die hard bingo players vying for that last big prize. I would often wonder if people in big cities had festivals too. I would later learn that, in fact, they did have festivals…giant festivals. Since I left Drummond, I have attended quite a few of the bigger festivals. Hopefully soon I’ll make the big trip to Rio so I can say I’ve attended the big one. But, you know what none of those giant festivals have? Free watermelon. Bam! Drummond wins again!
See some of the other things I'm up to at www.JonathanElmore.weebly.com
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