Strawberry Festival: working, playing and witnessing

My experience of Belleville’s Strawberry Festival dates back to 1980, when we moved into the house across the street from St. Anthony Church. We had begun attending Mass there, and gradually became more involved with the parish community, including liturgical ministry, Men’s Club, CYO basketball, parish and school committees and, eventually, involvement with the festival itself.

We were slowly being drawn into a community, and more particularly being drawn toward its very fine people. Living in the shadow of a major part of the festival could at times be harsh, with dust, noise, lights, hundreds of people and vehicle traffic congestion. But we accepted it each year as it rolled around, and gradually became very involved in the Strawberry Festival.

The festival continues to play a role in my life, and as I look back on my initial and then more recent experience I find it helpful to view it as being working, playing and witnessing.

Working

The Archdiocese of Detroit had had an annual fundraiser program called the Archdiocesan Development Fund. The program had after some years run out of steam; the archdiocese breathed new life into it, and began calling it the Catholic Services Appeal. A key part of the new CSA program was personal home visitations to registered parish members, to reach out to them as a community, and to request their financial support for archdiocesan programs.

I volunteered, but I had to find a partner with whom to make the visits. At the time, I was lectoring at the parish, and I asked one of my fellow lectors to join me on CSA home visitations. His name was Richard Korgal. Richard agreed to join me, but there was a catch: I had to help him collect money and account for it at the booths sponsored by the parish at the festival. I agreed, and thus began a period of a few years where, every Saturday during the festival, I would begin my day in the early afternoon, collect money from the booths sponsored by the church, and sit down and account for it, before depositing it in the bank.

Playing

These Saturdays would last until midnight or so. We missed the mass for the festival workers at around 11:30 p.m., because we were still counting money. But we finished shortly after midnight, and I joined my wife Jan in the bar area on the festival grounds (she had worked in the food booth, where I sometimes helped on Sunday), where a dozen or so parishioners had gathered to relax, to talk about the day, and to laugh together.

I drank a beer or two. I knew from experience that even a single beer after 10 p.m. would produce a headache in me the following morning, but I threw caution to the wind. I was happily exhausted, and I was asked by the other workers to report on how each booth had done, how much money had been raised.

Witnessing

Each year before, during and after the festival I was able to watch a commitment by dozens of St. Anthony Parish parishioners to come together and, in a myriad variety of ways, plan and execute quite a large project each year, on behalf of the entire parish. Its scope was amazing, and my exposure to some very fine people was unforgettable. I still very much admire and respect what those parishioners do.

More recently, I’ve begun reporting on the festival for The View, and by attending committee meetings leading to the festival I’m able to see and to share with our readers the larger picture of the festival. On my peregrinations around town reporting on the festival, I always make a point of stopping at St. Anthony parish. I say hello to old friends and meet some new ones, and I’m reminded of how working together, of volunteering to benefit a common cause can have many positive effects on the individual. It sure did for me.

Jerry LaVaute is a special writer for Heritage Media. Follow his blogs “Pa’s Blog” and “The eye of the storm” at http://jlavaute.blogspot.com. He can be reached at glavaute@gmail.com or call 734-740-0062.