Celebrating Deer
I pondered long and hard about what to write about this week and the topic that kept coming up really didn’t inspire me that much. So Monday afternoon, Jenny suggested I reminisce about my childhood memories of the Deer Festival. Really, I thought. But after a few moments of reflection, I realized I had lots of childhood memories of the event most from the perspective as a participant in the parade, now a defunct element of the event.
I was a very active Girl Scout back then (much like my daughter now) and my first troop under the leadership of Sarah Calies and “Nanny Beck” were always in the mix. We would work on our float what seemed like months in advance—brainstorming on ideas, getting supplies, piecing it together, and building banners. It was wonderful! Back then fall felt like fall and Nanny Beck always had goodies waiting in the wings—if it was chilly there was hot cocoa and cupcakes, and if we were especially good there was divinity, if I am correct.
We held our meetings at the old Calies home located on the corner of Church and West Washington Streets, situated just an eye shot away from The News’ office. Though it was on the corner of two intersecting streets, I always felt safe because we would meet in the back left side courtyard which was surrounded by hedges—you would have to be a “Peeping Tom” or really tall to see beyond the hedges.
Nonetheless, back then in the good ol’ days of the DeerFestival, the parade was held in the morning. I remember mom having to wake me up early on those Saturdays to get ready for the parade and head into town early enough for a good parking spot and to get in the lineup before the streets would shut down. The parade was fun, especially if you were riding the float and not walking plus you could sneak some candies along the way. The headquarters was always at the Civic Center parking lot (now Thomas Persons Hall) and I remember unloading often times in the Monticello Baptist Church parking lot.
I remember as a kid learning that my hometown was deemed the Deer Capital of the state and growing up “in the country” off Highway 300 it made perfect sense. Deers were a way of life there. Our whole yard—front, back and sides—were their playground seeing as how there was a stream near our home. It was nothing to see a deer family galloping through the yard in the dawn or dusk hours. One of my fondest pet stories (and I have many) was that of my dachshund-mix puppy, Chelsea, making friends and having regular play dates with an area fawn.
Chelsea was the adopted shelter pet of my college roommates and I. When our lease ran out we decided Chelsea needed a home where she can roam freely. Between the three of us, Miami, Jersey, and Monticello were her choices. Thus she came to Georgia and loved it. I hated not seeing her everyday but she was in good hands with my family around and I knew she would get much more outside time than she previously had. I remember chatting with my mom one day and her telling me that Chelsea had made a new friend and she wasn’t talking about the regulars around the house.
My mom said that Chelsea would be waiting by the door every morning (if my dad hadn’t let her out already) and when the door opened would leap down the steps and fly to the backyard where a fawn was usually waiting. Then the two would scamper away leaping through the grass. I laughed thinking my mom needed a vacation. Well on my next visit home, I saw all I needed to see. Sure enough, Chelsea was up early chomping at the bit to get outside. I got up and walked her outside and she ran straight to the backyard where a little fawn soon appeared. I called her name and see looked back as if waiting for my approval, I gave her a nod and away she went with the fawn—it was nature at its best and it proved my mom wasn’t crazy.
So in the spirit of leaping fawns and dachshunds in our “deer” ol’ town, head out to the Deer Festival on Saturday for some food, festivities, and entertainment.