By Rev. Kevin Baxter
I can’t quite remember when the idea first took root—maybe at the Fryeburg Assembly—but at some point, I decided I wanted to volunteer at the Fryeburg Fair New Church Food Booth. I started asking around, just enough to learn what was involved without actually committing. But by September, I’d spoken with Kurt Fekete, who warmly invited me to stay with him and work a shift together. After some childcare arrangements, I signed up for the adventure.
A few weeks later, it was time to make it happen. After Sunday church, an MNCU meeting, and making sure the kids were settled with their mother, I packed light: a BSNJ (Boston Society of the New Jerusalem) New Church hat and shirt, stuffed into a small travel bag that fit neatly into my motorcycle’s saddlebags. The weather couldn’t have been better—bright, clear skies, and that golden warmth that lingers in early fall.
Boots zipped, bike fired up, I hit the road. Fryeburg is about a two-and-a-half-hour ride from Boston, though Kurt’s home is a little closer. I rode north with the evening traffic—cars and trucks full of Mainers returning from a victorious Patriots game. By the time dusk melted into night, I pulled up to Shelley and Kurt’s home in time for a late dinner and good conversation. Morning, we knew, would come early.
We headed to the fairgrounds at first light, parking in the volunteer area reserved for church and civic groups. Before clocking in at the booth, we stopped by to see some of Kurt’s extended family’s goats and cows showing that day—a reminder that, despite the fair’s regional fame, it remains a deeply local, family-centered event.
At the New Church booth, we joined a small crew: a few of the dedicated “die-hards,” plus some guest workers from a local shelter and food pantry. We got a quick five-minute crash course between breakfast and lunch, and then we were off.
The booth itself was no small “fair shack” as I’d imagined—it was an impressive, well-equipped kitchen. About twenty feet wide and deep, it housed multiple soda fridges, a hamburger grill, hot dog warmers, crockpots, a stove, sinks, and even microwaves. Years ago, I learned, a former McDonald’s team helped reorganize the space, adding proper prep zones and streamlining operations. To the side, a covered eating area welcomed diners, with the wall lined with displays about New Church beliefs.
I worked in the serving area while Kurt manned the grill. Orders rang out from the ordering area— “Fair Burger! Red snapper! Natural dog! Dinner plate!”—and the rhythm of the day began. Between flips, Kurt kept things light with his running commentary and creative burger nicknames, like we were at some old roadside diner. The irony wasn’t lost on anyone that the only vegetarian in the group was manning the burger grill. From the wall, a photo of Rev. James F. Lawrence looked on approvingly—legend has it he loves the Fair Burgers.
Business was steady but never overwhelming—a perfect pace for a first timer like me. The day passed in laughter, teamwork, and that satisfying hum of service that makes time disappear.
When our shift ended, Kurt and I wandered through the fairgrounds in search of dessert. He munched on a slice of the booth’s homemade pie, drawing curious looks and giving him a chance to point folks back toward the New Church booth. I went for the classic fried dough—what some call an “elephant ear”—and we strolled past antique tractors, single-cylinder engines, and an old gas-powered ice cream maker before going back to Kurt’s.
Crossing back into New Hampshire as I rode home, the sunset painted the sky in streaks of red and gold, as if the heavens themselves were aflame. By the time I reached Boston, the night was cool and quiet. I parked my bike, peeled off my riding gear, and felt the deep contentment of a day well spent—of good food, good company, and the simple joy of serving in fellowship.
Read the full issue of the November/December Messenger.
Meet Kevin Baxter
Rev. Kevin Baxter is the senior pastor at the Church on the Hill in Boston, Massachusetts. He also serves as the secretary for the Council of Ministers for the Swedenborgian Church of North America.
