Frank Raflo Story - Carnivals

Carnivals Were the Most Important Fundraisers

Carnivals, the home-grown, fire-company variety and the imported-from-outside kind, were both important parts of the lifestyle in the county during the summer. Outside of the non-air-conditioned picture shows, which changed three times a week, there wasn't too much to do in the warm evenings in the small Loudoun towns, and the carnivals were anxiously awaited. Each fire company had its carnival, the local effort of building its own booths and of the lady volunteers serving one or more ham and turkey suppers.

Several items were standard. They always raffled off a car, and the complaint each year was, "Did you hear who won the car at the carnival? He didn't need it. Like I say, 'It is never them that needs that gits.'"

I was always a big bingo player. If the player called a "bingo," the prizes were two coupons. When there were two winners, there was only a half coupon given. Prizes (mostly table dishes) were stacked on the shelves in the center of the bingo arena: bottom shelf for one win, sec­ond shelf for two, and the exotics on the top shelf were for three or more coupons.

Everyone in the family played bingo, and on the last night of the carnival, we would pool all of the coupons and, with Mom in charge, go to the stand and make our selection. As I recall it, the most we ever won were five coupons in one week.

Everything at the carnival was a family affair except the gambling dice cage roll. Here, the local gamblers tried to "double up and beat the roll," but the firemen always seemed to come out ahead by the week's end.

I often recall the story heard on the street after the first night of the carnival.

"Did you hear that Mr. Coleman Gore (a local businessman) took them for twenty-five bucks last night?" By Saturday night the story had changed to: "They got their money back from Mr. Gore last night. He doubled up four times on number six and lost each time. Can't beat the local boys when they roll the dice."

For youngsters, it was a question of what to do with the allowance we got to go to the carnival? How much? Generally a quarter from Dad, which was supposed to last all week.

What to do? Play bingo ... five cents a game ... and call it a night... or week, or go over to the dice machine and try to make the quarter grow?

The dice machine had a magnetic attraction. Now, I am a "number-four man" myself. Stand there on the outskirts behind the main players and listen to the numbers being called out. "Ace, deuce and a lovely trey." No number four. "Two sixes and a seven." The fire­man in the center turned the dice and intoned the winning three numbers.

Never give a thought to putting down your bet until at least four rolls without a number four coming up.

Of course, youngsters were not really supposed to be "in the ac­tion," but a quarter quickly laid on a number at the last minute did not really have to have its backup person identified. You could sneak it in, win or lose, and be gone unobserved.

My watching and debating often went on for as long as half an hour. Finally a silent decision: "Why not?" as the man behind the wooden board enclosure called out, "Are all bets down?" The quarter (the whole quarter) was slid onto the edge of the pasted form number four on the betting board. One final moment of doubt, draw it back, no let it go. A "four" had to come up.

The dice tumbled. The next two seconds were a short eternity as the dice rolled around. The whole week's fun could rest on whether the four hits. Here came the call.

"A deuce and two lovely fours." Euphoria!

Fifty cents. Double your money. How sweet the victory. Leave it and play to double your money again? Only the slightest passing thought. Instead grab up the fifty cents and run away... off to the hot-dog stand where in celebration you invest twenty cents in something to eat and still have thirty cents left. How great to feel rich!

Now for a game of bingo. The first game was always free, so you got two games for the price of one at the beginning. But there was one ar­rangement in this whole operation I never understood: must get home about ten o'clock. The parents are waiting.

"Dad, I won a bingo coupon at the carnival." (No mention of the dice win.)

"You say you spent five dollars? Five dollars? What did you win? Nothing? You considered it a donation to the fire company? How could you? Do you know how much I could play and do with five dollars? Did you really spend five dollars? Why didn't you give it to me?"

Dad always smiled quietly and said, "Come on to bed now; tomor­row is another night, and if things go well you can go to the carnival again."

Off to bed mumbling, "Gee! Five dollars! Suppose I had put five dol­lars on that number four."

I think we won a glass dish at bingo that year.

More pages in this section:

• Frank Raflo Fire Co. Stories
• What Happened to Carnivals?

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