The midway is awash in noise. Before the Lenoir County Agricultural Fair even opens, before some 14,000 people descend on the fairgrounds in Kinston, the rhythm of hammer and ratchet announces the return of a 110-year-old tradition. Compressors hum and thump. Generators harmonize, their combined drone overtaking the putt-putt-putt of their little engines. Workers call out progress checks, ask for a hand or a tool, and give warnings of “watch your head!”

In a kitchenette by the fairground gates, members of the all-volunteer Lenoir County Fair Association go over last-minute logistics. Cash for change. Coils of tickets. Wads of wristbands. Which volunteers arrive when. Food vendors and trash patrols and parking. A thousand things to think of.

Pick up an ear of grilled corn to nibble while you explore the county fair. photograph by Matt Ray Photography

Soon, the midway is awash in a completely different kind of noise. Coins clink into those machines that push them into an improbable pile, hopeful fingers feeding silver into the little slot. On a win, there’s a tinny avalanche, the cheer of the winner, the slap of high fives. It’s a Las Vegas crescendo in miniature as hands collect heaps of quarters and shove them into bulging pockets.

There’s a stereo cacophony. Music blares from here, bass thumps from there. It’s a fever dream of Lee Greenwood, the Grateful Dead, reggaeton, Kylie Minogue, salsa, the plucky opening strains of “Sweet Home Alabama,” and the thunder of Led Zeppelin coming from everywhere all at once.

Hang on tight! Once a year, fairgrounds across the state fill with whoops and shrieks as riders enjoy the rides. photograph by Matt Ray Photography

On rides, excited screams come and go with Doppler magic, voices rising and falling and circling back on themselves as the riders whirl, disappear into the evening, and return. Kids whoop and yell over the subway-like clacking and clanking of a ride just their size.

A man in a shirt emblazoned with cartoon tacos stands before a crowd of kids. He’s armed with balloons, which squeak and twist in his hands as he keeps his young audience laughing. He turns the balloons into swords, pirate hats, and dinosaurs, and puts them into eager hands.

Everywhere: conversation.

“Hey! How’s your dad?”

“Has it really been a year? Already? Shoot …”

“Mooooooooom, I only need $10. I know I can win this time.”

“Please onemoreride. Just one more, I promise. Puuuuhleaze.”

“It’s almost time to go, mijo.”

Barkers work the crowd from their game booths.

“WINNER! Hey hey, WINNER here!”

“Almost. Almost. My man, want another try? Replay, and I’ll give you six throws for $10.”

“Bring that kiddo over, and I’ll guarantee a prize.”

A screaming kid doesn’t want to leave. She blubbers and wails and throws a temper tantrum for every moment of anticipated joy that will surely occur beyond her bedtime.

• • •

Far from the distortion-heavy guitar riffs and electronic trills of the midway, the sounds emanating from the Animal Barn are ancient, timeless.

A rooster lets out a comically territorial crow amid the worried wrrrerrrrrr wrrrerrrrrr of his brood. Sheep bleat, sending their vibrato baas to the rafters. Listen close, and you’ll hear individual voices: This one warbles, that one’s raspy, another has a deeper timbre.

The Lenoir County Agricultural Fair traces its history back 110 years to the Great Kinston Fair, a regional event that included 10 nearby counties. photograph by Matt Ray Photography

All the animals have their own cadences, their own accents. Muscovy ducks don’t sound like Pekin ducks, which sound like someone saying “quack” with a nasal twang. Chinese geese have a rhythmic honk while turkeys purr, cluck, and cackle with surprising musicality. The black Spanish hens make tentative sounds, but the Barred Rock has a high, nearly keening call. Mallard ducks, always chattering, sound hungry and confident. A fuss with the Narragansett turkeys sets them off, and soon, a dozen ducks stamp their feet and flap a few feathers loose in a moment of distress.

A miniature horse makes a full-size racket that rises, ululates, and ends in an ear-piercing note that encourages the horses across the barn to answer. They converse. One horse cranes its neck and nods to give its neighs more throat; the miniature horse rears and does its best to sound four times its size. When a volunteer walks over with a bale of hay and some fresh water, it prances, whinnying excitedly.

In the Animal Barn, Lenoir County fairgoers come face-to-face with horses, sheep, and a menagerie of other creatures. photograph by Matt Ray Photography

In the next pen, a calf wants out. It bawls to a trio of teen boys — the scions of hundred-year farms in eastern North Carolina — who come to calm it. They low back, each in turn, and it settles.

“You’re a pretty girl,” one says, kneeling by the gate. “Awww. Just look at you.”

He giggles, unabashed, as the calf’s tongue comes out for a kiss, swiping his chin and nose. For a minute, the peacocking of teenhood is forgotten, his laugh and the contented sigh of the calf the only things that matter.

• • •

Those animal sounds are perhaps the strongest link to a tradition that goes back centuries. Well before there were midway rides and carnival games, funnel cakes and corn dogs, county fairs gave farmers an opportunity to gather, trade, learn, and barter.

Those rural roots remain the foundation of the Lenoir County Fair. Each fall brings a fair that’s singular — be here this year or miss out — but cut from the same cloth as years past. There are agricultural exhibits and competitions. A tractor-driving contest. A cheer competition. The demolition derby’s a generations-long fixture; so’s the casserole cook-off and the talent show for county schoolkids. Music’s a constant, but it’s evolved from rootsy country in the ’40s and ’50s to beach and soul music in the ’60s and ’70s to the mixtape of today: soul, rap, rock, country, Tejano, and salsa, performed in English and Spanish, with a drawl or twang or tilde.

In addition to rides and food, the Lenoir County Fair features a youth tractor-driving contest, which helps promote tractor safety on and off the farm.

There are calm stretches, too, if you listen for them: somewhere between the animal calls; the musicians playing to a packed house or a handful of fans; the sirens and Klaxons of the midway; and our own conversations. In the rare pocket of quiet, folks set the world aside and simply exist in the present.

But those moments are short-lived in such a dynamic place. As the demolition derby revs up, the throaty roar of V-8 engines shakes needles from the pine trees and sends a mismatched flock of birds into the autumn sky. The roars rise, rattling the very roots of the grass as vehicular violence envelops the concrete-clad arena. Tires spin as cars claw the mud for traction, then squelch off at speed to slam into the side of some sedan, shearing off a fender well, flinging a wash of muddy clods over the crowd.

Perhaps, in the midst of all that reverberation, the demolition derby is planting the seeds for next fall, a bumper crop of metallic blooms to kick off next year’s fair with a bang.

Lenoir County Agricultural Fair
September 30-October 4
401 Fairgrounds Road
Kinston, NC 28504
lenoircountyfair.org

More to Explore: Check out these county and regional fairs.