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By the time this article hits the newsstands, the 162nd Dutchess County Fair will be in full swing, with at least 150,000 fairgoers having already waltzed through the gates, ready to drop upwards of $100 each for a day’s entertainment frolicking in a vast 19th century anachronism. What is perennially the premier event for these environs is a classic agricultural exposition in transition mode, having withstood a spate of recent changes including the stepping down of its longtime manager, Tom Odak; the replacement of its veteran midway operator; the readjustment of its mission due to the continued shrinking of its old-school, dairy farm-based agricultural community and the repercussions of a financially devastating, weather-scourged fair session in 2006. In a sure sign of the changing times it also this June welcomed the first-ever female to the board of directors of its parent organization, the politically and economically powerful — and tantalizingly inscrutable — Dutchess County Agricultural Society, Inc.
Tuesday evening as the opening day deluge subsided, attendance was, to be kind, sparse. Wednesday was a mite better, although still gloomy. The early fairgoers who did brave the churlish elements were treated to nonexistent crowds and zero wait times for popular rides, entertainments and hotly anticipated fair-specific treats, such as glomming on a dripping sausage, pepper and onion sandwich; gulping a delicious and gigundo 4-H milkshake; savoring the legendary strawberry shortcake; ravaging a dog bowl full of John’s French Fries; noshing on a blooming onion; and scarfing down a beer and a London broil sandwich at Foster’s Fairgrounds Restaurant.
Front row seats were available at the Ultimate Air Dogs (as seen on Animal Planet!) show and for Rosaire’s Racing Pigs, as well as for the day’s grandstand entertainment: Tracy Lawrence — who didn’t rate what will be the fair’s new policy for bigger name acts, the charging of 12 to 15 bucks a pop for stage-front track seating. (Wednesday through Saturday’s acts, which, in order, are The Wreckers, 38 Special, Rodney Adkins and Ricky Skaggs, will command the paid track seating; the country influence caries over into Sunday, as the grandstand hosts a children’s “stick pony rodeo” at 11 a.m. and an exciting if somewhat controversial series of championship bull-riding contests for the remainder of the afternoon.
Meanwhile the pomp and circumstance of sprawling Livestock Hill, where dead serious steer-judging shows vie with crowd-pleasing husband-calling contests; “costume class” goat, sheep, rabbit, hog and horse contests; and a chicken clucking/rooster crowing showdown, proceeds at its own dignified pace. The hill is an island of organized, bovine-dominated calm that stands in stark contrast with the hurly-burly mercantilism of the rest of the fair, and its captive weeklong population of cattle dealers, farmers and 4-H hobbyists doesn’t really care whether or not it’s raining.
The heir apparent
After Tuesday’s inauspicious opening and Wednesday’s middling weather, hopefully this year’s fair will be blessed with four straight glorious, crystal-clear late August days and attract crowds approaching the high water mark of just over 500,000 in 2003 (last year’s attendance was a brutal 408,255). That would be a load off of fledgling fair manager Bob Grems’s mind. He arrived early last June to learn part-time at the knee of the master, Odak, who was gearing up for the ill-fated 2006 installment. He learned fast, and was full-time by August of that year. While still technically observing, Grems was already building relationships and mending fences, forging a management style has been described by some fair insiders as a “breath of fresh air” compared to the uncompromising, iron-fisted regime of Mr. Odak. He hit the ground running as fair manager on Jan. 1.
The Boonville, N.Y. native, who grew up across the street from the Oneida County Fair — of which he remains a directorial board member — is steeped in the lore and mechanics of fairs, carnivals and other visceral forms of amusement. He cut his managerial teeth in a 13-year stint with a rollicking fair and speedway favorite, the Joie Chitwood Thrill Show — toward the end of which he was named as executive vice president. In 1990 Grems signed up with the Fiesta Shows Carnival and was vice president of marketing through 2001, after which he jumped ship and assumed the vice-presidency of the Outdoor Amusement Business Association, a large trade organization that represents carnivals and circuses throughout North America.
Somewhere in there the Dutchess County Agricultural Society got hold of his long resume, and decided there was no one better to take the operation to the next level — which will be pretty high, as the Dutchess Fair is already the top county exposition in the state, and is second only to the massive New York State Fair in Syracuse as an agriculturally-based attraction. The reported income amount (which is really tantamount to net profit, even though that term isn’t kosher in nonprofit-speak) on its federal Form 990 tax return last year was $3,149,964. That figure includes income from other events as well, such as various antiques and crafts fairs, which is not itemized. The same form lists the fair’s reported 2006 assets as $7,063,608.
Tax-exempt Benjamins
Three million bucks as profit — on what could be a combined take of anything from $6 million to more than $30 million from the fair alone — seems a bit low to seasoned fair-watchers, who talk darkly of lavish annual trips to Las Vegas and gifts of brand-new automobiles to board members during the 27-year Odak period. That suspicion, coupled with the Vatican-like secrecy and tax-exempt status of the Ag Society, a 501(c)(5) labor, agricultural, and horticultural organization, has fueled a minor local backlash to the fair in recent years, which shows signs of growth.
Politically, the society’s board is loaded with Republicans; in fact its current president, Andy Imperati, is chairman of the Hyde Park GOP. The Town of Rhinebeck, meanwhile, has fallen at least temporarily into Democratic Party hands, and they are getting nosy, as well as noisy. The unofficial party news organ, something called The Demogram, has run a number of articles and letters taking the Ag Society to task. “Those who attend the Dutchess County Fair should realize that the fairgrounds’ owner, the Dutchess County Agricultural Society, pays no property or school taxes, even though it appears to be involved in profitable activities,” wrote one Greg Da Sylva in a published missive. “Research indicates that, though it contributes to local charities, these are small contributions compared to the taxes it would pay were it not tax-exempt. Indeed, its 2003 tax bills would have totaled almost $137,000, which would have helped to pay for the considerable police, fire, emergency and other local services benefiting it.”
Da Sylva hauls out old Section 450 of state Real Property Tax Law to make the point that “agricultural society property is not tax-exempt if it is used for any non-agricultural purpose. The fairgrounds hosts car shows, swap meets, antique, crafts and machinery shows, and an Indian festival, most with admission fees, yet it continues to enjoy a total exemption. More surprisingly, according to the town assessor the society hasn’t even had to file a standard application for an exemption, a 19-page document delving into activities and finances to determine exemption eligibility. Rather, the fairgrounds’ exemption is based solely on a verbal opinion from the state Association of Towns. So not only is the Agricultural Society tax-exempt, it is apparently exempt from going through the standard procedures for obtaining an exemption.”
We’ll take Mr. Da Sylva’s word for it for the time being, but will be looking into the matter ourselves not too far down the road. At any rate, in his letter he calls on the Ag Society to “ give the public the benefit of its response,” something that presumably has not been forthcoming.
The editors of The Demogram, meanwhile, subscribe to a slightly more balanced, though still somewhat jaundiced view of fair operations. “Feelings run high in the town and the village on this subject,” they state. “There are strong supporters and strong critics. On the plus side are tradition, tourism, temporary employment for teens and other residents, education (the 4-H exhibits are superior), and recreation (many villagers and town residents enjoy attending the fair, some on a yearly basis). How much local businesses benefit from the tourism is a matter of debate; some would say that if local business can’t compete with fairgrounds events at the time of their occurrence, they benefit in the long run, because fairgrounds visitors will return to Rhinebeck. ... Also, throughout the year the village and town benefit from the existence of 140 well-maintained acres, serving as an effective buffer against over-development.
“On the minus side,” writes The Demogram, “are strong complaints about traffic congestion, parking, noise, and even vandalism on streets between East Market and the fairgrounds. But these negatives are all due to that energized tourism and those 500,000-plus people who come during fair week. It can, and will be, argued by some that these are necessary evils. ... But there are additional and more serious criticisms; they concern the administration of the fairgrounds. Many residents feel that they are not only inconvenienced but shortchanged by its operation. In addition to the fairgrounds’ tax-exempt status, which is not well understood, there are suspicions that village, town, and county resources are used without proper reimbursement.
“Under section 501(c)(5) of the federal tax code, labor, agricultural, and horticultural organizations are exempt from taxation if their general activities are ‘educational or instructive, the purpose being to improve conditions of work, and to improve products and efficiency,’” write the editors, before citing the long and largely avoidable list of kitschy flea markets, craft fairs, car shows and folksy festivals that clutter the balance of the fairgrounds’ marketable year. “How many of these satisfy the conditions sketched above?” they ask. “Three, four, at most, out of a total 14 events?”
The editors go on to cite an Illinois court case too wildly circumspect to go into here, but you catch the drift. They conclude by asking a few more questions: “Who serves on the governing board of the fairgrounds? What percentage of the board members are residents of Rhinebeck town and village? Are the books of the fairgrounds administration open to the public? Does the administration communicate frequently with the appropriate village, town and county authorities? Are these communications and/or meetings available to the public? What public resources are used throughout the year to support the fairgrounds activities? What remuneration, in the form of monies or services, is received for this support?”
Responding negatively to their own queries, the Demogram editors conclude: “Currently there are many unanswered questions. They have been out there for some time, and they rankle in the minds of many residents. Surely it would be in the interests of the fairgrounds administration to answer them, demonstrating clearly that the benefits of their operation outweigh the costs to the community.” Or, maybe not.
Handling it
While the negative opinions held by some Rhinebeck Democrats are not uncommon and indeed were repeated off-the-record by a slim majority of the village merchants and residents I spoke to this week, the general atmosphere of Rhinebeck around fair time remains welcoming and even electric, despite the inconveniences and the slowdown in sidewalk traffic.
“There’s a few people this morning who don’t have good things to say about me,” said the polished yet unassuming Grems in his office on Monday morning, the eve of the fair, explaining that although “we’ve got the fairgrounds ready,” there were still a number of “fires to put out.” Using pretty much the same language as in the Monday morning Poughkeepsie Journal that was sitting on my lap, he launched into a well-rehearsed segment of his speech in which he described the fair as “the little city emerging. All the gardens, all the plantings, all the beds are ready; then the big tents come in.
“Each day,” he mused, referring to a colorful painting near his desk of the fully-realized Oneida County Fair of his boyhood, “things start to progress — and as you lead up to today, the last day before we open, there’s another piece of the puzzle. Friday and Saturday the livestock started showing up, up on the hill. Yesterday about this time, the first carnival truck came in from Gaithersburg, Md. Now, that’s a huge piece, obviously, and by 12 o’clock tonight they’ll be completely done with their setup; all the safety inspections will be done. By 10 o’clock tomorrow morning, all the giant pieces of the puzzle will fit together, and we’re open to the public.”
Grems positively gushed over the performance of Powers Great American Midways in its debut last year after supplanting longtime midway operator Florida-based Reithoffer Shows Inc., which insiders say had negotiated an increasing percentage of fair profits over the years.
“They did such a spectacular job here last year that we gave them a multi-year contract. I’ve been in the carnival business off and on for 30 years. I know carnivals. I worked for the Outdoor Amusement Business Association for a couple of years; it’s the largest trade organization representing carnivals, fairs and circuses across the country. So I got to see a lot of carnivals. And as far as a total carnival operation, this man is balanced in every department. He’s got wonderful rides; the equipment looks great. He’s got a good game operation; they pump out a lot of prizes — people play games to win prizes. And his food operation is second to none in the business. ... Corky Powers, as far as I am concerned, is as good as any carnival operator in the business, and certainly I would have to say the best on the East Coast.
“When I was with the OADA, I visited his show for the first time. He was from Rochester originally. As soon as I saw his show I remember driving out of there thinking, ‘These people don’t ever sleep,’ because you can’t look this good and sleep.”
Jazzed as he is about the new midway operator, Grems gets fire in his eyes when he starts talking about Livestock Hill. “We’re up in almost every category,” he crowed. “The only thing we’re down on a little bit this year is sheep. We’re up in dairy, we’re up in beef. We had to turn away 149 goats. We’re up in poultry; we could put up another building with all the poultry.”
Grems allowed that a wider net is cast to attract dairy farmers from as far away as Pennsylvania. “There are only 26 dairy farms left in Dutchess County,” he said. Still, he claimed that the fall-off in exhibitor participation that plagues other modern fairs has not hit the Dutchess Fair.
“The vegetables came in yesterday, with 149 more individual entries than we had a year ago. The culinary department, the jams, the jellies, the domestic departments — all of those things are up. We’re busting at the seams.”
“Something is going on here that’s right,” concluded Grems. “It’s good, it’s wholesome. I said to a couple of farmers last night, I can’t think of another project, other than a county fair, that can involve so many divergent groups of the population.”
Grems’s enthusiasm is infectious, and bodes well for the continued dominance of the Dutchess County Fair in the local calendar. And despite the bad will engendered by its board’s clannishness, secretiveness and apparently disingenuous financial practices, the fair will persevere.
And I, for one, am glad.
