The day began muggy and overcast. By midday, raindrops sprinkled and showers threatened. But the sun asserted itself in the afternoon, a gentle breeze alleviated the humidity, and the 110th edition of the Devon Horse Show and Country Fair was just what it should be: pleasant and fair.
Along the midway, people shopped for hats and needlepoint, antique jewelry and fancy tack. They ate tea sandwiches and fudge, sucked on the traditional lemon sticks, rode the Ferris wheel and merry-go-round.
The usual Memorial Day crowd was in attendance:
Those who came to watch the horses.
Those who came to watch the people.
Not surprisingly, this is a slightly different demographic from what one might encounter on a July Saturday night on the boardwalk in Wildwood. For starters, much less facial hardware, fewer tattoos, not a single tank top in sight.
Instead, a profusion of polo shirts and madras shorts, skirts and sensible low-heel shoes in shades of sherbet, men in bow ties and seersucker jackets and those faded summertime trousers known as Nantucket reds.
"It's absolutely the Main Line," said Joann Chenet, 50, of Berwyn, who, truth to tell, was dressed like she stepped out of the pages of the J. Crew catalog, in a bright blue cable-knit sweater and lime-green pumps. "It's fun, a little bit of everything, and everybody comes."
Chenet, a trim and outdoorsy mother of five, can't stay away from Devon during the 10-day run of the show, which began Thursday and ends Sunday. A horse lover who experiences a frisson every time she sees a truck towing a horse trailer, she's enthralled by the riders and the action in the ring. But she also enjoys Devon because of the "great crowd" and the "really cool atmosphere."
"It's like a bubble here," she said, "a really safe little place, definitely the epitome of the Main Line."
Those who aren't part of the horsey set can be forgiven for not realizing the significance of Devon. For riders from all over the country, it's the World Series or Super Bowl.
"People who come here are the best of the best," said Cate Sands, 22, who just graduated from the University of South Carolina, where she rode on the national champion equestrian team.
She and her boyfriend, Mike Liguori, 22, of West Chester, were strolling the midway, savoring the bittersweet nectar of lemon sticks.
So, why do you come? they were asked. To watch the horses or the people?
"I come to watch the horses," Sands said.
"I come to keep her happy," said her swain. (Good answer, Mike.)
"Definitely, this is a people-watching place, 100 percent," said Maureen Kelly, 41, of Exton, whose two daughters, Maggie, 5, and Elizabeth, 3, were mesmerized by the gorgeous steeds being led to and from the ring. "We just saw a big white stretch limo pull up. I had to chuckle. It's a horse show."
"It's the people they watch primarily," ventured Dick Borkowski, a retired Episcopal Academy teacher and coach who was working as a volunteer at the soda and ice cream stand with his wife, Bunny. "The horses just bring the people together."
To many in the grandstand, though, the horses were plainly the center of attention. In breeding horses, blue bloods try to achieve the very traits they wish they'd see more often in people: noble form, athleticism, discipline and impeccable manners.
"The horses are just magnificent," said Noelle "Noli" Wister, 35, a Center City painter, who was sitting in the box belonging to her mother, Peppi Wister.
"They are so regal and graceful," said Noli Wister, who was put on a horse when she was 10 months old, showed at Devon in her youth, and played polo at Cornell. "To see such a muscular, weighty creature take off and clear a fence is magical."
Horses run so thick in her blood, are so much a part of her pedigree, that Wister can sympathize with the death wish of her great-great-great grandmother, Fanny Kemble, the Shakespearean actress: To fall off the back of a galloping horse.
In a nearby box, conspicuous in his bow tie, was Rad Hundt, 77, of Newtown Square. For him, Devon is more than just horses and people. It's about roots that are long and deep, custom, tradition, nostalgia and sacred memory.
Hundt, who showed his pony, Taffy, at Devon when he was 4, last showed in the family class in 2004. Chairman of the hunt committee of the Radnor Hunt, he remembers when the ring at Devon was all grass, when spectators viewed the proceedings from atop their coaches and carriages, when chauffeurs would congregate to watch, and a donkey would pull a cart by the stands to deliver afternoon tea.
"You basically knew everyone in the box area," Hundt recalls, "and most people showed."
"There's a huge sense of tradition and family connected with Devon," said Anne Hamilton, who was sharing the box with Hundt. "It's about seeing the friends you used to ride with or went to school or dancing class with. A lot of people are looking for that because a lot of that has been lost."
"The Devon Horse Show is the Devon Horse Show," said Dick Borkowski, from his perch at the soda stand, with a commanding view of both people and horses. "It's always here, it doesn't change. It's a piece of Americana. And it's nice seeing it continue. Like seeing the men in tuxedos at an Orpheus Club concert."