As the ferris wheel lights flicker off around 9 p.m. and the last visitors head back to their cars with plush prizes, half-empty bags of popcorn, and a day’s worth of memories, 12-year-old Kailyn Donahue’s favorite part of the Maryland State Fair will just be beginning. Although she will have been at the fairgrounds since that morning—giving tours of the animal exhibits, displaying her pastel and pencil drawings, and tending to her goat and sheep—the Baltimore County middle schooler will be wide awake as she leads her lamb, Duffy, back to the Cow Palace for the night.

Surrounded by dozens of other barnyard animals and their teenage caretakers, Kailyn will tuck him into his pen with plenty of fresh water and feed, lock the gate behind her, and drag her cot to where her friends will have made a makeshift slumber party a few feet away. They will stay up whispering until the sun peeks through the slats of the wooden roof, finally falling asleep side-by-side to the snores and snorts of their animals.

A short distance away, Kailyn’s mother, Karen Donahue, will play chaperone and smile as she watches her oldest daughter create the same sort of friendships she made 20-some years ago when she herself exhibited at the fair. Karen’s parents even met there, at the Dairy Judging Pavilion in 1959, and they haven’t missed one of Kailyn’s state fair events since she began showing her animals at 8 years old.

“Most of the families that show animals here have been doing it as long as my family has, so our parents and our grandparents know each other,” says Kailyn, who is the president of the Chestnut Ridge 4-H Club in Cockeysville. “It’s like a little family, and the fair is our reunion.”

Its size and scope have increased since the inaugural festivities more than a century ago, but the rural traditions and family-centric values on which the Maryland State Fair was founded have stood the test of time. While attractions such as deep-fried food, amusement rides, and concert series have been added along the way to draw modern crowds, the fair continues to be a highly anticipated annual celebration of the state’s agricultural community, one that connects generations of Marylanders through its nostalgic spirit.

It all started 140 years ago, in September 1878, when more than 5,000 people flocked to Ridgeley’s Woods near Lutherville-Timonium for a one-day “out-of-door show” for local farmers. Here, they could display and sell their livestock, as well as their fruits, vegetables, and dairy goods, while also connecting with other growers. It was a surprising success, leading a group of local businessmen to turn the one-off into an annual event, and on a crisp autumn day the following year, visitors flooded the fair’s new-and-improved location on York Road, where it still stands today, to browse local livestock, play carnival games, and watch horse racing on the just-constructed half-mile track.

Over the next few decades, the fair flourished as its leaders continued to increase the number of acres and attractions with the goal of making it “the biggest and greatest fair south of New York.” There were a few financial hardships and changes in ownership along the way, but by 1943, when the fair went on a three-year hiatus during World War II, it had already become a beloved tradition for both the city folk, who came to see everything from pig races to husband-calling contests, and the farmers, who spent months preparing their animals for the annual exhibitions. Even former President Dwight D. Eisenhower frequently entered his Black Angus cattle into competitions during the late 1950s and early 1960s.

During the second half of the 20th century, the Maryland State Fair rose to national prominence as new, prestigious, high-stakes animal exhibitions drew entrants from across the country. To this day, young exhibitors travel from near and far to present their prized livestock in its competitive shows run by nationally and internationally renowned judges. After months of sunrise feedings, mucked stalls, and vet visits, it’s an opportunity to showcase their hard work with other 4-H Club members who share the same passion for farm life.

That sentiment rings true for Kailyn, who is a rising eighth grader at Pine Grove Middle School on Old Harford Road. “We live closer to the city, so people from school just don’t understand,” she says. “It’s cool to be able to go somewhere where I can talk with people about my animals and sewing and it’s not weird because they do the same things.”

On top of that, it affords farm families a little holiday. Maryland State Fair president Donna Myers started showing Guernsey cattle some 50 years ago, when she was 8 years old, and remembers the “12 Best Days of Summer” as some of her family’s only time away from their working dairy farm in Montgomery County.

“The fair was our vacation,” says Myers. “We loved to eat fair food, have fun with our friends, and show our animals.” Years later, she and her husband, Jason, raised two daughters on their own 159-acre dairy farm in New Windsor, and this year, during Myers’ first fair as president, their daughter Kelly and their three grandchildren will carry on the family pastime, showing dairy cattle, beef steers, and heifers.

The fair has long acted as a way to unite and celebrate the country’s nascent and lifelong farmers, but fair officials have also recognized a growing gap between visitors and knowledge of state agriculture. As far back as 1973, Board of Directors member George Wills stated, “There is a crisis in farming and agriculture today because people don’t understand it—can’t identify with it.” Fast-forward a few decades, and today’s fair is still facing similar challenges. Although agriculture is the top commercial industry in the state, the number of Maryland farms decreased by the hundreds over the past decade, reflecting a downward trend that has affected some 12,000 farms nationwide.

Myers notes that the average person is a few generations removed from living or working on a farm. With less firsthand knowledge, the fair can act as an important vehicle for informing visitors of the benefits of local food production, such as keeping farmland open and active, preserving rural spaces, and investing in small-town communities. “This next generation isn’t going to have that connection, so it’s our job to show them how it’s done,” says Myers. “They need to understand how vital it is that we continue to provide space for farming and support for local food growers.”

To that end, the Maryland State Fair has continued to increase agricultural awareness and engage a growing number of visitors from nearby cities by expanding its hands-on learning experiences. From interacting with baby ducks to sampling perfectly red strawberries and running their fingers over hand-sewn quilts, fairgoers can learn about agriculture from the farmers and makers who fill the exhibits and pens with their work.

One promising turn of events: The farm-to-table movement has helped the fair and its programming, according to Maryland State Fair CEO Andy Cashman. These days, “people want to know where their food comes from, and it wasn’t like that when I was growing up at the fair,” he says. “People want to be educated about it. They want to know where their food and clothing comes from, how it’s made, and they are more committed to buying and shopping locally.”

Of course, while the animals and exhibitions might have once been the main event, many fairgoers still frequent the end-of-summer celebration for another aspect: the Midway. Since the days when the merry-go-round was one of its main attractions, the Maryland State Fair has entertained guests of all ages with hundreds of games, rides, and fried eats each year. While a few classics have remained for decades—the Ferris wheel, the giant swings, the adjacent Maryland Foods Pavilion—fair leaders spend the months leading up to opening day finding new ways to draw visitors to the fairgrounds.

“The traditional aspects of the fair are very important to us, but we need to keep up with what people want to see and do,” says Cashman. “We’re constantly trying to see what works and what doesn’t work. We go out on the end of a limb and try new things each year without being afraid of change.”

In 1918, that meant dropping 500 letters addressed to fair exhibitors from the sky in its first-ever airmail delivery. Eight years ago, it was a live performance by a shaggy-haired, 16-year-old Justin Bieber. This year, the all-new Live! ON TRACK concert series, featuring rising country artists Chase Bryant and Chris Lane, as well as throwback rock band Smash Mouth, will span four days so visitors can hear live music between spinning on The Cliff Hanger and watching Thoroughbred horses round the now-historic track. Thanks to the 2016 decision by Governor Larry Hogan to start public schools after Labor Day, the fair saw its third-best attendance on record in 2017 with more than 555,800 visitors, and fair officials hope to match or grow that number during this year’s event.

This month, when the gates open on August 23 and the “12 Best Days of Summer” begin again, new and returning visitors will walk the same grounds as generations of fairgoers have before them, gathering to see animals, ride the Ferris wheel, fill their bellies with deep-fried Oreos, and become another page in this next chapter of the fair’s rich history.

Kailyn, Karen, and the rest of the Donahue clan will be in tow, as they have been for the past three generations with their sheep and goats. And of course, Cashman will be there, too, and he knows why they all come back, as he has only missed one fair since he began exhibiting sheep, beef cattle, and pigs in 1969.

“I think it’s Maryland’s biggest family,” he says. “There’s things that you can do and see here that you can’t anywhere else; you can smell and taste and learn what makes this state special. To me, it’s one of the best places in the world.”

Snow-covered roads, wintry winds, and frigid temperatures may not sound like ideal farming conditions. But the Redlands Farm at St. Timothy School in Stevenson is proof that a little snow doesn’t slow down operations. In a greenhouse, on the school’s more than 160 acres of land, is a fully functional and sustainable farm complete with a multitude of lush greens, clucking chickens, and buzzing honeybees.

The boarding school’s partnership with Bon Appétit Management Company—a farm-to-fork, on-site food service that specializes in organically locally source food—is one of the driving forces behind the year-round harvesting. Redlands Farm provides 60 percent of the fresh vegetables, honey, eggs, and fruit to the school kitchen where the chefs cook everything from scratch to provide three meals a day. 

Started in 1999, Bon Appétit’s program requires chefs to source at least 20 percent of their ingredients from small, owner-operated farms within 150 miles of the kitchen. 

“Thanks to Redlands, our Farm to Fork scores are consistently two or three times that,” said Bon Appétit chef at St. Timothy’s Scott Richter. “They are just nailing it in terms of their quality and freshness. We are so lucky here. It’s every chef’s dream to be able to work with this kind of produce.”

Redlands Farm was started just two years ago when the St. Timothy class of 1965 wanted to fund an environmentally conscience project as a gift to the school. The head of school, Randy Stevens, had the idea of an on-site sustainable farm that would be dedicated to growing produce for the campus.

“A number of things just lined up,” Stevens said. “We really wanted to find a way to link health and wellness together, and bring all those pieces together to really shift the way that students look at their overall nutrition.”

As a living classroom, the farm has garnered the interest from students, who receive an afterschool activity credit for working on the farm. One student in particular, junior Ronelle Williams from Douglasville, Georgia, has fallen in love with the farm and has begun making connections between nutrition and sustainability.

“I do my homework and sit with the chickens,” she said. “I’ve come to love nature. The farm is my favorite place on campus.”

Aside from the partnership with Bon Appétit, Redlands Farm is meant to teach the girls about economic and environmental sustainability. Instead of growing food for profit, the goal of the farm is to grow enough food to offset the costs of maintaining the farm. Handling day-to-day operations, like plowing and planting, is 2008 almuna Sammy Clopton and her husband Adam. 

“We try to design a loose curriculum,” Sammy said. “I have certain things that I want them to get out of it besides just planting. They need to know the reason behind it. We try to give them a bigger picture of small-scale agriculture and sustainability.” 

The multi-pronged approach to the farm also includes an educational resource for the students, including the science associated with the crops. Each decision the school makes about Redlands Farm is measured against the environmental impact standards in Maryland. By researching and using best practices, they are able to dramatically decrease erosion and redirect runoff that will reduce excessive nutrients in the streams, which eventually flow into the Chesapeake Bay.

The ultimate goal of Redlands is to become a fully sustainable and include livestock down the line. The hope to also partner with local inner-city middle schools to develop a mentorship program is also in the works.

“It’s amazing to see how it’s flourished and what we’ve developed here,” Stevens said. “We are trying to connect all the academic pieces—helping them look at the ecosystem, and their footprint. We are trying to be a green school.”

For the longest time we just thought of honey as the stuff that comes in the little bear bottle with a yellow cap. But with local sourcing on the rise, and refined sugar doing a death spiral, artisanal honeys—as pure and natural as it comes—are all the buzz. In fact, according to the National Honey Board, there are more than 300 unique types of honey produced in the United States. In Maryland alone, there are more than 2,000 beekeepers, from commercial caretakers to backyard enthusiasts. 

Honey is full of nuance, its flavors and colors influenced by the seasonal flowers that honeybees pollinate, ranging in taste—from fruit-forward and floral to woodsy and earthy—and tint, from flaxen and golden to amber and molasses. In Maryand, these sweet syrups are a way to taste our region’s diverse terrain. We are known as “America in Miniature,” after all.

H.T. Krantz HONEY CO.
Raised in the fields of Frederick amid clover, alfalfa, or in this case, local wildflowers, this light delight is as smooth and pure as they come—even approved by ultimate locavore, chef Spike Gjerde. Bird in Hand, 11 E. 33rd St., 410-814-0373

BEE FRIENDLY APIARY
This small-batch, Baltimore-bred, ooey-gooey gold is influenced by the city’s flora and foliage, including local flowering trees such as the Locust, Poplar, Redbud, and Linden, giving it a fresh, ambrosial tang. Atwater’s, 815 Frederick Road, Catonsville, 410-747-4120

LORD BYRON’S APIARY
At the foothills of the Catoctin Mountains in the countryside of Thurmont, this clover-infused confection is amber-toned and herbaceous with a peppery spice. (Best of all, it’s sold in one of those adorable aforementioned bear bottles.) Whole Foods, 1001 Fleet St., 410-528-1640

WAXING KARA
This caramel-colored autumn honey is harvested along a breathtaking edge of the Chesapeake Bay in Kent Island on the Eastern Shore. Its silky finish is imparted with the bold floral flavors of native Maryland plants, and a hint of salt from the shoreline’s brackish waters. Honey House, 10209 Grand Central Ave., Owings Mills, 410-363-2200

When did you start working at the Maryland State Fair?
My first year was 1946. I was 11 and [hired to be] the office boy in the draft horse department. Every morning when I got to the fair grounds, I swept out the office and passed out the numbers to the exhibitors. In those days, they had a fair catalogue, which listed every exhibitor and every animal in every class. They cost 25 cents. When we had time in between other duties, we could sell programs, and when you sold a program, you got to keep a nickel of it, so, we were rich! I’ve worked at the state fair ever since. 

How did you first get involved?
My family bred Clydesdale horses, and before World War II, many of our animals were shown under Shirley & Son, which was my grandfather and father. I guess it’s in my blood, but I’ve been lucky enough to meet and get to know a lot of wonderful people—and a lot of awful good horses and ponies. 

You’re known as one of the “voices” of the fair, having been a horse show announcer for many years. What are some of the biggest changes you’ve seen over time?
Oh boy. [Laughs.] The spectators. In the ’40s and ’50s, it was largely a rural, agricultural audience. People were coming to the fair to see what the grand champion cow looked like so they could go home and compare it with their cattle, or they were coming to the draft horse show to look at the Percheron stallions to decide who they might want to breed their mares with. The vast majority of attendees are now suburban or even urban people, and they’re coming out for some of the other exciting things at the fair like the carnival.

There was always a good-sized midway, too, probably not as big as it is today, but to a young fella like me, I thought it was pretty exciting. Many food stands were run by local churches. The food was nothing we would consider gourmet. There were no crab cakes or crab soup—just good food that we farm kids were used to, like roast beef sandwiches, hamburgers and hot dogs, potato salad and coleslaw. They would actually serve dinners with homegrown vegetables. That’s the way it was back then. 

What makes the fair so significant today?
It’s keeping people aware of how important agriculture is to the state, and to the world. When you sit down to eat three times a day, you should be thinking about the farmer because that’s where your food is coming from. We do tend to lose track of that in today’s world. Some people think they make the food at the supermarket. Certainly the most important thing the state fair does is educate people on where their food comes from.