Another Suppressed Memory

Last week, some of our family went to the Stanislaus County Fair here in our town of Turlock. We parked in a huge lot behind the fairground. It is now covered primarily with asphalt, but that’s not how it was back in 1969. Then, it was packed dirt, patches of grass and weeds. 

I recalled this when my mind gave me back an unpleasant memory from that time. It was Easter, 1969 and our mom took us there for a big egg hunt. I was 12, too old to participate and not interested in hunting eggs anyway, but Mom did not give me the choice of staying home. My siblings, Jeff, age 10, Tina, age 8 and Kevin age 6, were excited about it so we all went. 

What excited them was not so much the plastic eggs filled with candy, but the big prizes that could be won including toys, skates, board games, etc., which were donated by local businesses. These big prizes were described on slips of paper inside the plastic eggs and this was a huge event which attracted approximately 300 kids and their families. The biggest prize of all was a Schwinn Stingray bicycle donated by Bilson’s Sporting Goods and every kid there hoped he or she would find that special egg. My siblings were no exception.

Prior to opening the gates into the parking lot, the volunteers hid hundreds of eggs in the usual way. Most were in plain view or hidden in clumps of grass or behind the taller weeds. Some were hidden in more difficult places to find such as gopher mounds and other holes. 

It was my hope that my brother, Jeff would find the bike egg because a few weeks before the egg hunt, I had gotten his bike stolen. I borrowed it to ride around town on a Saturday morning, stopping at the Ceres High School gym when I saw that something was going on inside. Being in a hurry to get in there to see what it was, I left the bicycle laying outside, consciously deciding not to take a minute to lock it to the nearby bike rack. Five minutes or less later, I came out and the bike was gone. My offense was made bigger by the fact that Jeff’s bike was less than a year old and the newness had not yet worn off it for him. Our Mom didn’t have the money to replace it and so Jeff (and the rest of us) went without. I prayed that Jeff would win that bike, but the ending to this story is brutally sad. 

A man with a bullhorn advised everyone of the rules including that only children, age 10 and under could look for the eggs. Older siblings and parents were allowed to accompany the younger children, but only to hold their hand. I did not feel like helping this because I didn’t want to be there anyway. At a signal, the big Easter egg hunt commenced and hundreds of kids converged on the hunting grounds. Our mom and I stayed back and watched my siblings search for the eggs. After about a half hour, the place had been picked clean and those who had won the big prizes went to a table to claim them. As people began to leave, the man with the bullhorn announced that some of the big prizes had not been claimed and this included the bicycle. So, it was decided by the organizers that the hunt would continue until all the prizes had been found. 

To this day, I cannot explain why I knew where that bicycle egg was located, but I did. So, I decided I would go look for it with my youngest brother, Kevin in tow, under the guise of “helping” him to look. The hunt was restarted and I grabbed Kevin's hand and made a beeline for that special egg which I determined was far across the field from the starting line.  We practically went right to a gopher hole and found an egg inside. I grabbed and quickly opened it up to find the slip of paper inside which read, “Stingray Bicycle.” I started yelling, “I found it! I found it!” Jeff was nearby and ran over to me. He said, “Stan! Let me or Kevin claim it! You’re too old to be the one to find it. They won’t give it to you!” However, I was too excited to listen to his advice. I wanted the glory and the adulation of all the people there as the victorious one. So, I refused his request and we all went to the prize table. 

As we got there, I heard a woman say, “He’s too old to be out here! Look how big he is. It’s not fair!” I protested that it was my youngest brother who had actually found it which was an obvious lie. Sure enough, an organizer asked me my age and I was disqualified. The egg had to be hidden again and some other kid found it in the third round. 

I was angry with myself for not letting Kevin dig out the egg, for not heeding Jeff’s pleas and for wanting the glory I thought I would receive. Instead, I was shamed and that hurt. Had I followed the rules by just helping Kevin, a new bicycle would have been acquired by our family to share and my letting Jeff’s bike get stolen would have been mostly forgiven and forgotten. Instead, the memory of that sad day and my desire for glory has resurfaced again, 42 years later.