CLARKESVILLE, Ga. — The sky stretched cloudless, cornflower blue, above the steel arms of the Ferris wheel. The rides waited motionless, their painted horses and plastic animals still. Just before 9 a.m., buses pulled to the edge of the fairgrounds. Habersham County students streamed out, chatting with friends and scanning the rides that stood waiting.
This was the morning set aside for special needs students at the Chattahoochee Mountain Fair, a tradition that reorients the space for those who rarely experience it comfortably. Without the press of crowds, without the loudspeaker blare of overlapping attractions, the fairground opened wide, quiet, and accessible.
‘Best day of the year’
On an ordinary day, the fair offers a dizzying kaleidoscope of flashing lights, blaring music, and voices as crowds press tight around entrances. For students with autism, the noise can shift quickly from distracting to unbearable. For those in wheelchairs, the crush of lines and design of platformed rides narrows the fair to a handful of options as the midway becomes an exercise in navigating obstacles.
On this September morning, though, carnival employees paused the rides until every student could board the one they wanted. The walkways stayed clear, the volume dropped, and a space that often feels exclusionary shifted to meet the needs of these students.
“This is the best day of the year,” said Ginger Bridges, a veteran special education teacher. She explained that the fair’s usual tempo makes it inhospitable for many of her students. In this setting free from the noise and crowds, she said, they move easily.
The students took selfies, joshed one another, and squealed delightedly over cute animals. They petted goats and fed begging donkeys carrot sticks.
One Chattahoochee Mountain Fair volunteer, watching the fun unfold, summed up the day in a phrase as simple as it was exact: “Hanging out with my besties.” Asked what it meant to her, she added: “It makes me feel happy and very proud.”
Pizza, Kona Ice, and keepsakes
The biggest ovation came not for a professional act but for an 18-year-old senior. Fatima, known to her friends as Teema, joined Lew-E’s Comedy Circus on stage. She played to the crowd with confidence, knowing precisely when to lean into a joke, when to smile, when to let silence carry the laughter.
Classmates shouted her name and clapped louder than at any other point in the show. She knew how to reach them, and they adored her for it.
The schedule was action-packed: Lew-E’s Comedy Circus, Cowboy Andy and Lindsey Leigh, the Georgia Untamed Zoo, and rides. Fair board member Hazel Cording arrived with stacks of AJ’s Pizza that vanished almost as quickly as they were set down. The Kona Ice truck followed, handing out cups topped with bright snow cones, syrup running down the sides. Each student carried away a bag of memorabilia.
‘My favorite part’
Teachers and paraprofessionals walked alongside the students, offering gentle guidance. Mostly, they were companions, making sure the students could enjoy the fair without interruption.
Leading from the helm, bubbling with enthusiasm, Shelley Tullis, general manager of the Chattahoochee Mountain Fair, watched the students move through the grounds.
“This is my favorite part of the fair,” she said. She described it as the moment when the grounds feel most true to their purpose. Watching the students ride, laugh, and celebrate, she added, makes clear why the fair endures in the first place. It turned 50 this year.
This special day for those with special needs has become a fixture in Habersham County, anticipated by teachers and eagerly awaited by students. For the fair, it stands as proof that inclusion is not theoretical but as practical as saving a seat on a ride, parting the crowds, and lowering the volume.
Bridges said it best, “It’s just a fun time.”
Leaving the fairgrounds
By mid-afternoon, buses idled near the gates. Students tossed their half-empty Kona Ice cups and pocketed their gift bags. They shouted to friends from across the parking lot, discussed who would sit with whom, compared selfies, and replayed Teema’s performance.
For some, the rides would remain longest in memory. For others, it’s the animals or the taste of hot pizza. For all who attended this event on September 9, it was a rare chance to occupy a space designed for others but made accessible to them.
For Tullis, the memory carried a different weight. She views this day not as a sideshow or an accommodation, but as the fair at its best.
