With Niverville’s fair entering into its fourth decade, many people who consider themselves long-time community residents may have no recollection of how this institution came to be.

There is one small collection of locals, though, who remember those early years with fondness: the original Olde Tyme Country Fair committee. 2025 marks the thirtieth year since this diverse group first sat down to plan their inaugural event.

It’s not that Niverville hadn’t ever had a fair before. Indeed, the community had been celebrating an annual fair for nearly 30 years. In the typical small-town fashion of yesteryear, those fairs were held in August and showcased Niverville’s farming ideals.

These were the years when women competed for first place in baking and canning contests and men displayed acts of bravado on the ball fields or tug-of-war pits.

As is the way of many good things, though, a lack of volunteers brought the fair to an end in the early 1990s.

In 1995, new vigour brought the fair back to life. The first event in June 1996 ran an approximate budget of $3,000, which would have been considered an inconceivably lofty target compared to years prior.

The new fair committee was comprised of about eight members. Come fair weekend, a couple dozen additional volunteers were required to bring their plans to fruition.

The mostly young parents who sat on the committee hoped to start something that would bring joy to the families of Niverville for a long time to come. But in their wildest dreams, they never would have anticipated the magnitude of what it became.

The current 19-person committee runs an approximate budget of $375,000. They rely on the efforts of over 300 volunteers to work more than 900 hours to pull off the two-day event.

The Early Years

The vision for a new Niverville fair originated with Jeff Stott.

“I used to have a lot of fun at the fair as a kid,” Stott says. “Eating all the baking and [playing] the coconut game and dunk tank. We were always involved because, at that time, my dad was part of the small group of people running it.”

To renew interest, Stott created sandwich board signs which he placed along Main Street, large enough that traffic had to negotiate around them. Then he picked up the phone and called everyone he knew.

Stott’s father warned him not to get his hopes up.

The first townhall-style meeting took place in the dining room of Clare’s Family Restaurant, the location of Subway today.

Much to Stott’s surprise, the dining room was packed with people. He chaired the initial meetings, which resulted in roles being distributed. The adult and children’s entertainment coordinators were Elaine Krahn and Brenda Sawatzky. Bev Hiebert took on food services while Heather Fast eventually came on as parade coordinator.

Nancy McNaughton, Jeff Stott, Tim Friesen, and Russell Hicks filled in the many other gaps.

Among the committee’s early goals in the summer of 1995 was to establish a new date. Despite some disappointment from previous fair enthusiasts, the committee decided to launch in June as a kickoff to summer. This would precede vacation season, the harvest, and—fingers crossed—the worst of the inevitable mosquito infestation.

Next on the agenda? Giving the new fair a catchy name, something that would be both modern and capture Niverville’s roots and small-town values. The committee solicited the public for ideas. Ballot boxes were placed at prominent businesses, giving residents a chance to vote.

The winner, by a country mile, was the Niverville Olde Tyme Country Fair.

In keeping with the theme, a logo was designed which incorporated a pig, a pie, and a first-place ribbon.

By the spring of 1996, the plans were coming together. The old Niverville fairgrounds, located where the CRRC stands today, needed some work. The small, partially covered wooden stage had seen better years. Volunteers stepped forward to shore up its structure and bring in electricity. The canteen building, too, was in a sad state. The committee set to work with paint and brushes.

Local bands were solicited to play that stage, including Ken Dyck’s band, who had built their reputation around performing a repertoire of radio classics.

Without the financial means to secure a full-on midway for the kids, Sawatzky found the next best thing. Somewhere in small-town Manitoba, a grandfather had built a series of makeshift wooden rides, including a roller coaster and tilt-a-whirl. Without a doubt, it wouldn’t pass code in the twenty-first century, but it was good enough for 1996.

Inflatable games, a climbing wall, and a mud pit were thrown in for good measure.

Soliciting startup funds to pay for all these items required convincing local businesses to get behind the project—which they did, albeit somewhat reluctantly at first.

Admission, it was determined, would be $2 per adult. Children would get in free.

To build buzz around town, the committee produced hundreds of posters and restaurant placemats to go around town.

In an act of generosity, the print shop went one step further and hand-delivered ad copies to every business in town.

Unfortunately, too late was it discovered that the advertising contained a critical error: the first Niverville Olde Tyme Country Fair, the ad proclaimed, was absolutely free to attend.

The first year’s budget was stretched to the maximum, but the event proved its value.

“The thing that I was proudest of is that people stood in long lines to get in,” Stott says.

Moving to Main Street

With one year under their belt, the committee turned to town council for financial aid in preparation for year two.

“I went to see [Mayor] Clare and I said, ‘We need some money to pull this fair thing off,’” Stott recalls. “And he said, ‘How much are we talking about?’ I think I had said $5,000 to get this thing going and he said, ‘Then ask for $10,000.’ Clare was one of the driving forces for this thing.”

Growth was exponential in those early years. With the addition of a car show and a second stage, as well as expanding entertainment options, the attendance multiplied.

A hint of rain, however, left the fairgrounds a muddy mess. A better option for future years, the committee decided, was to move the event to Main Street. Since the road fell under provincial jurisdiction, everyone involved knew this would be no small feat.

“Albert Driedger was the Minister of Highways at the time and he lived in Grunthal,” says Stott. “He was a good friend of my dad’s and so I drove down there to see him.”

That meeting was integral to the slow move to Main Street. It began with the closure of a small section at first.

Clare Braun, Niverville’s mayor at the time, admits that council was sceptical.

“It was a new concept, and I didn’t think there’d be enough people [to justify it],” says Braun. “But then we saw it was going to work because on opening night we had people coming in droves down the street with their lawn chairs. It was, like, ‘Wow, the town really cares about this!’”

Over the next two years, the fair committee was granted more and more Main Street access until the street became completely consumed by the event.

This set the stage for many exciting additions, including the Wonder Shows midway.

It also meant more stages, more tents, and room for popular entertainment such as motorcycle stunt shows.

Probably one of the most unique aspects of the Main Street fair, though, was the incorporation of a community food fest.

Stretching the length of a few blocks, businesses set up food booths that offered sausage burgers, pork on a bun, wontons, watermelon and roll kuchen, and more, all included in the cost of admission.

Perhaps the greatest testament to Niverville’s community-wide fair adoption was the massive borscht cauldron where hungry attendees could find soup, served up hot, made by the women of local churches.

This food tradition carried on for 25 years.

If ever there was doubt that the move to Main Street was a good idea, it was quickly eradicated when one witnessed the sight of hundreds of elementary school children glued to the schoolyard fence, watching and waving in anticipation as the carnival trucks rolled into town every year.

“[My] five-year-old niece saw the midway pulling into town and she said, ‘This is even better than Christmas!’” Krahn muses.

As the fair grew, the committee added security personnel to ensure that parents could let their children roam free without fear.

“That was the big reason for security,” Stott says. “We were making sure people felt safe. We all had kids at the time, and it was a big deal to us.”

Most Memorable Moments

Over the course of the fair’s early years, the committee looks back on a feast of good memories. And invariable, these recollections are based around people, not weather.

For example, the ordeal of counting coins, literally thousands of dollars of them, from admissions in the fair’s second year.

Into the wee hours of the second night, the small committee sorted and counted, using garbage cans and anything they could find to store them. Once counted, the collection was dropped into the bank’s night depository for safekeeping.

As the church crowd gathered the next day for a stage-side church service, the fair committee came to an awkward realization: they’d kept no float aside to run the canteen.

“We didn’t have a nickel between us,” Krahn recalls. “We came up with this idea that we were going to beg the offering plate off the church [collection].”

And so they did. That demonstration of trust and support from the local churches carried on over the years as various church groups inevitably stepped forward to offer their behind-the-scenes services.

There were also demonstrations of support from the community as a whole for cleanup efforts.

“[The committee] got some brooms and we started sweeping,” Stott says. “Then Jake Hiebert… brings some brooms and shovels, and then other people started showing up, and before long we had this big group going down the street.”

One of the most memorable events was the year when two local pilots entered their small planes into the Main Street car show. Both successfully landed on Highway 311 and rolled into town. One had a small gas leak, causing the pilot to temporarily disconnect the fuel source while grounded.

Unfortunately, he failed to reconnect the fuel before taking off later that night.

“He decided he was going to buzz Main Street,” Stott says. “We could see him coming and then [we heard his engine sputtering]. He turned, right across from the Chicken Chef, and went into the houses.”

The same night, Manitoba Hydro crews were called to respond to a downed line when the second plane snagged one following takeoff.

Thankfully, in both cases, the damage was minimal and no one was hurt.

What’s Behind its Success?

“The reason that this thing has worked is because the community embraced it,” Stott says. “We had good organization as far as ideas and drive go, but the community latched on and they loved it. That’s why it survived and that’s why people continue to come to it today.”

The early fair committee can’t deny this sentiment. Time after time, year after year, the community rolled up their sleeves on fair weekend and jumped right in.

As a result, the fair has evoked province-wide curiosity and interest. The organizers of other events, such as Steinbach’s Summer in the City, have coming seeking advice in an effort to model Niverville’s success.

But in the end it’s about the people, those who demonstrate hometown pride, and this is a resource in which Niverville is undeniably rich.

Over the years, every one of the early fair committee members have produced second-generation volunteers or core committee members. Taking an active role on today’s committee are Tim Friesen’s daughter, Raesha Enns, and Elaine Krahn’s son, Dustin Krahn.