Ethos pulls aside the curtain to reveal an intricate yearlong process behind making Oregon’s world famous fair.
Story by Victoria Davila
Photos by Sarabeth Oppliger
To walk into the 280 wooded acres of the Oregon Country Fair (OCF) is to enter a wonderland. Step off the free shuttle bus with an OCF ticket in hand, and dive into a land of artwork and good vibrations springing from blades of grass. Two large mythical dragons sit at the entranceway, greeting crowds and also serving as benches and booths. People wander through a swirl of painted, bedazzled bodies swimming amidst an endless stream of more than eighty food vendors, hundreds of craft booths, and numerous stages at the OCF.
Behind the scenes of the storybook wonder is an intricate structure with strong foundations going back over forty years. The Fair’s cooperative ways of learning and living pushed it to iconic counterculture status over its lifespan. Created to support a Fern Ridge school, freethinking Eugenians contributed their time and talent to start the first Fair in 1969. It drew 2,000 people, cost $1, and made only a small profit. Today, roughly twenty thousand volunteers work the event with a budget of about $1.5 million. Each day draws 18,000 visitors who pay over $20 in admission. The Fair hasn’t lost sight of its philanthropic roots — just last year it donated $55,000 to local arts, education, and basic needs organizations.
“You’ve got thousands and thousands of people and potential for chaos and it goes off as if it’s this well orchestrated ballet,” says Linda Shumate of PremRose Edibles, who vended at the Fair for the first time last year.
Fair Evolution
The Fair has “metamorphosized over the decades into a rare breed — a self-sustaining and lively arts festival that contributes to its community. The Oregon Country Fair became a place where aging hipsters, sacred tricksters, and new vaudevillians, plus their children and grandchildren, would gather for decades to celebrate counterculture community,” explains Eugene journalist Suzi Prozanski in her book Fruit of the Sixties: The Founding of the Oregon Country Fair.
The Fair is still known as a carefree gathering of hippies, where clothes are either fanciful or barely there. But beneath the surface lie the constantly spinning wheels of a well-oiled machine. Amidst the blur of sights and sounds, many Fair attendees remain unaware of all the labor it takes to perpetuate traditions and produce this enormous community event.
A board of directors has its hands full overseeing all actions of the Fair. Along with the board, countless volunteers, site caretakers, and seven year-round employee organizers work as the Fair family slaves away, putting on more than just an event, but a social manifestation of the spirit of Eugene.
The OCF has been a mythical land of enchantment in the west for Ken Kesey fans, Deadheads, and anyone searching for a communal or psychedelic experience — it draws pilgrims from near and far seeking a glimpse of Oregon life.
At First Glance
To see booth after booth of Northwestern crafts and food, none of it prepackaged or brand name, is a welcome sight for anyone used to the shiny boxed-shaped world.
“No Pepsi or potato chips here,” Norma Sax boasts about the quality food. Sax is an OCF Elder (someone who has worked at the Fair for twenty years or longer) and year-round employee of the Fair as an administrative assistant. The vendors adhere to environmental-based rules of composting all food and transitioning toward compostable utensils.
“Some people come for the fabulous entertainment, food, crafts, and demonstrations of how the world could be. Others, including me, come to live in that world for a little while, to be reminded that it’s entirely possible,” Jain Elliott says. Elliott is a sixty-year-old Elder of the OCF who has been attending the Fair for half her life.
The world Elliott speaks of is one where hand-built wooden structures are continuously renovated, maintained, and added to the figure-eight shape that defines the Fair’s path. The architecture is unlike what most people are used to. Some booths are new, while others have been there since the Fair started in 1969. Artwork weaves into all aspects of the Fair. Structures wrap and work their way into the nature that surrounds them. As a rule, minimal pruning of trees maintains the authenticity of the natural environment, and branches must be tied back rather than cut or harmed in any way.
Beneath the Surface
Daily maintenance and routine replacements are necessary due to winter flooding and weather damage, and require a caretaker to be on site year-round, along with a site manager who lives there a few days a week.
Site manager at the Fair for sixteen years, Steve Wisnovsky is constantly observing the grounds’ yearly transformation. During the off-season, he watches wildflowers bloom and dominate the area of lush green grasses. Wisnovsky sees the vast difference between the usual wooded lands and the chaotic pseudo city in July. The people trekking through wear the grass down to brown dust, but before the masses arrive, the Fair paths are beautifully lush.
During the weekend-long event, the population of the Fair grows to the size of a small Oregon city. Similar to a town, there are booths and central locations reminiscent of shopping centers, where themed booths come together to create “villages” or “parks,” all of which must be cohesive and coordinated.
Teams of people work to make sure the Fair runs smoothly and flawlessly during the months prior to the event. Crew leaders and back-up managers assign volunteers to manage traffic direction, security, water, and cleanup. Over the years, various crews and directors slowly grew with demands for a more organized structure. Like many collectives, they struggled with decision-making, authority, and delegation, but also worked to stay true to foundations of equality and progress.
The identities of the Fair’s organizers and workers used to be a closely guarded secret, but over the years it has loosened up. Seen as a radical threat to normative society, the original founders and volunteers dealt with government surveillance of homes and businesses. At one point, according to Prozanski’s book, “coordinators routinely destroyed registration lists after each fair at the insistence of participants paranoid about government snoops.”
Volunteers put countless hours of work into the production of the OCF. Today, Elliott estimates, 20,000 people get passes to attend the Fair as workers. But there is still no central list. Even the event organizers can’t place a specific number on it.
Most of the profits are donated to groups that provide services like education, food for the needy, and funds for the arts across Oregon. Just as the original founders intended, the philanthropic Fair still brings together crowds donating time and money to better the community.
Night Life
Gaining a place with a crew isn’t an easy task. Normally, volunteers have to have a connection with someone already involved if they want to get started. But once the day visitors are gone, hard work is rewarded with nights of relaxation, music, and dance.
But the infamously wild nights can be hard for those aiming for true rest. The Fair isn’t without drama. True to a real family, “the Fair family,” as they refer to themselves, occasionally disagrees. The board of directors deals with sorting out conflicts and issues that arise.
Recently, a division over the evening music choices — electronic versus acoustic — became an issue. Some who remember bonfires and guitar singalongs don’t appreciate the overflow of loud music deep into the night. A ban on late-night electronic music has been proposed. Timing and zoning have been brought up as possible compromises. Only the board can make the final decision.
A Yearlong Process
The music issue is one of many matters debated during the ongoing process of building the Fair. The board also sets policy and decides which local organizations will receive Fair-donated money. Committees make recommendations to the board, which are voted on in the fall.
Attendees and volunteers have an opportunity during the Fair to be a part of the process by donating to the Jill Heiman Vision Fund. Money from the previous year has been awarded, by process of a vote, to the Relief Nursery, St. Vincent DePaul’s, and Womenspace, among other organizations.
The newsletter is another example of the family-oriented and highly structured characteristics of the Fair. It includes upcoming events, birthday announcements, advertisements, board decisions, and more. All of it becomes a way of life.
The Magic of the Fair Family
When all the aspects unite, attendees describe the Fair as nothing less than magic.
This magic keeps workers and attendees coming back, oftentimes rising through the levels of involvement with the Fair production. Many of the Fair’s workers stay with it for their entire lives.
After decades of volunteering, Elliott became an Elder. With this status, she no longer has to work for her pass. Even so, she continues as the coordinator for the Little People day care booth in the Community Village, and remains active with Village meetings and work parties.
“It’s a family reunion every summer where we renew our commitment to live purposefully,” says Colleen Bauman of Dana’s Cheesecakes. Bauman has attended the Fair every year since she was in high school in the early seventies. Her daughter Willa, now eighteen, grew up with the Fair as a way of life. They take pride in being one of few twenty-four-hour booths nourishing Fair workers after hours.
Those who have remained with the Fair as long as Elliott and Bauman have seen the yearly and decade-long transformations. At meetings, organizers discuss short- and long-term improvement goals. In April, various new designs to prevent future overcrowding of the walking paths were reviewed. Additions and alterations must be approved by an archeological organization because the grounds lie on a Native American burial site. Despite the strict guidelines and rules, the Fair’s magic permeates every aspect from planning to orchestrating.
“Try something new. Go to a new a new stage,” Bauman says. “Have a conversation and get to know people behind the scenes working there. To me, that’s very much the beauty of the Fair. Get involved and be part of it.”
