Anna Chadwick, then 4 and dressed in pink and yellow, chases after a pig on July 18, 2005, during the pig scramble at the Pittston Fairgrounds. Photo courtesy of Lynn Chadwick

Fair season in Maine brings people from across the state and beyond for games, competition, livestock, fair food, rides and challenges for all ages.

Anna Chadwick

This weekend, the Skowhegan State Fair wraps up on Saturday and the Windsor Fair kicks off on Aug. 24.

Morning Sentinel photojournalist Anna Chadwick recently sat down with her mother, Laurel Chadwick, to find out exactly how Anna became a three-time pig scramble champion at her hometown fair in Pittston. Anna and her brother AJ looked forward to the fair, and Laurel brought them every year.

Anna: Can you walk me through the moments of me wanting to enter the scramble? Like, how did this all start? Whose idea was it?   

Laurel: You were 4, and it has been a family tradition. Your Uncle Robby and I used to compete, so it was just kind of a thing to do.  

I was kind of excited because it was a remembrance of growing up, but also a little nervous. You had never been near fair animals before, let alone a pig. But then I also knew you were a determined kid, so the other part of me kind of was like: Watch her catch a pig. My brothers and I told you what to expect. It’s going to buck and squeal, you’re just going to have to hold on for dear life. 

Are the pig scrambles the same now as they were when you were growing up? 

So back then, they would actually grease the pigs so they were slippery and hard to hold on to. They no longer do that at the pig scrambles.  

How many times did I catch a pig? 

Three times. 

How many did I keep?  

We raised two of the three. You sold the other one back for $35. Steve McGee, the farmer who donated the pigs, would allow the contestants to keep the pig, or they could donate it back for a cash prize. 

Did you think I would catch a pig, let alone three? 

Absolutely not! 

Can you describe what it was like to watch me compete in the pig scramble?  

It was a family tradition, so your grandparents, and all your aunts, uncles and cousins were there. We let out big “hoorahs!” and “yippees!” when we found out you caught the pig. Everyone was super excited for you.  

Were you prepared?  

No. I had never raised a pig. My parents, your grandparents, had obviously (done so) when Uncle Rob had caught one, but I had never been a pig farmer. I never thought we would have a pig. But I was excited for you so we figured out what to do on the fly and how to get a pen and a cage for him to live in.  

 What did we do with the pig once we brought it home?  

We brought it home in the burlap bag that they give you from the fair. We had a dog carrier, so we put him in there, and went back to the fair and finished playing games and riding the rides. Then, the next day, we went to the store and bought a large pen for him to play around in and built him some shelter from the weather.  

Do you have any memories of that pig?  

Your brother would get in the pen, sit in his blue little chair and pet him and feed him apples. He would go in there for hours and sit with the pig and play with the pig. But, the first days we brought the pig home, your cousins were over, and we were sitting playing with him, and he ran away. He ran into the woods, through the mud and swamps, and I ran after him, but we couldn’t catch him. Your uncle Rob had called Steve McGee to find another pig with similar markings just in case. But we left the pen open with some food out overnight, and I went outside the next morning and there he was, sitting in his pen.  

How long did we have the pigs?  

About a year, both pigs. 

I had a fair-themed birthday party, didn’t I? 

Yes, we had the penny scramble, the cake walk, bottle/toss ring and the pig Pinky was the farm animal.  

You guys told me after that the pigs were going to a farm to be back with their pig families, is that true?  

Yep! They went back and lived with their mom and dad forever and ever and ever…  

As I was reminiscing over these memories with my mom, I figured it would only be right to leave the next generation of pig scramblers with a simple tip. It’s what my Grampy told me, as well as my other family members: No matter how long or how loud the pig squeals, do not let go.