The Day the Pumpkin Died...

So Bye Bye Mr. Pumpkin Pie
Drove my beet truck to the fairgrounds
Couldn't find any pie.
Some good ole boys
were drinking Canada Dry
singing, "This'll be the day that we cry
'cause we can't find us no pie."

(Yeah, I know, the song is no good.)

It's the Pumpkin Festival this weekend. I haven't had a chance to actually go to where all the action is, but we can hear all the festivities from our house (there were motorcycle races a on Thursday).

Anyway, Pumpkin Festival time is always characterized by three things: 1) The smell of sugar beets being processed (stinky). 2) Pumpkins become available everywhere (there are at least five places to buy pumpkins on my way to work alone. 3) Harvey the Pumpkin.

Harvey the Pumpkin is the mascot of the Pumpkin Festival. I actually didn't know about the existence of Harvey until fifth grade.

That was the year almost all of the elementary school population (grades 1 through 5) mauled Harvey the Pumpkin.

I'm not kidding. He got beaten down by two hundred children all under the age of 11.

At our school, at that time, there was a big kids side of the play ground and a little kids side. Grades 1 and 2 were little kids, 3, 4, and 5 were big kids.

I can't remember it exactly, but I was on the boundary of the big kids side when I saw Harvey the Pumpkin. He already had a crowd of little kids around him, and he was smiling (of course, because it was sewn on his costume.)

I thought he might be giving out candy, so I started walking to where he was, along with everyone else who had noticed him from the big kids side. I had gotten pretty close when I realized that he wasn't giving out candy. Then, a little kid ripped a leaf off of Harvey's front. The next thing I knew, all the kids around Harvey were trying to get a piece of him. They were jumping up and down, trying to get the good pieces of felt. I think one of his eyes almost came off. I tried to get out of the crowd, but by then, dozens of big kids had closed in to see what was happening, and they were all getting closer to see what would happen to Harvey, if not get a piece of Harvey themselves. I finally weaved my way out of the crowd and sat to watch from the little kid sandbox.

It was exciting, funny and horrible all at the same time! The bottom of Harvey's costume was in shreds, and children were walking away with leaves and scraps of orange felt. Whistles were blowing all around us as the "Ladies" (playground supervisors), Mrs. Strysinsky and Mrs. Boylen, tried to quiet them down.

Then, Harvey snatched off his stem hat. It was Travis's DAD!

Travis was a kid in my grade. When he realized it was his dad, he was so embarrassed. It was the talk of the playground the next day.

When the kids realized that it wasn't really a huge felt pumpkin, but a man in a pumpkin costume, they all scattered. The Ladies did their best to catch the kids who had felt in their hands and send them to stand at the WALL. I took off running. I wasn't stupid enough to stay and see what happened.

After that, we all went inside when our respective bells rang. As soon as we sat down, the principal boomed over the intercom.

Mrs. Dittman said how horrified she was at our actions, and how disappointed and disgraced she was, and that the children of Schall School should know better.

I saw Harvey again a couple years later. He was at the craft show on Main Street, next to the courthouse and square dancing stage. His costume was new, and actually...I think there was a lady inside.

So even now, when Pumpkin Festival time comes around, I always remember the day the kids mauled Harvey the Pumpkin. Then I smile. And then I laugh. A lot.