I was already four years back into my archives, combing for photos of tractor parades from the past few years when it hit me.
This year’s parade would mark 20 years of covering the Callicoon Tractor Parade with only two misses in that whole time -- once because the pandemic shut down the annual tradition and once because my daughter had arrived in the world, kicking and screaming just three days prior to the big event.
But as I worked my way through year after year of photos to pull together a few favorites to tease the event on Instagram (check them all out @jeannesager), I began to piece together stories of the families of the tractor parade, my own included.
The first time I arrived at a tractor parade with my camera in tow, I captured photos of one of my cousins who was just 7 years old.
This year I captured photos of him driving with his stepdaughter in tow, his wife maneuvering a tractor in front of them both.
What a difference 20 years can make.
What a difference for the couples who weren't yet couples when I first pulled camera from camera bag in 2002 to wander the parade route, for the parents who weren't yet parents two decades ago, for those who once rode with relatives now laid to rest.
In 20 years, I’ve seen faces come and faces go, babies arrive and college kids depart. I’ve watched the daughter born on a tractor parade week some 17 years ago go from sleeping on the sidelines as the tractors rolled by, to catching rides with family and friends on tractors, to being the event's official counter, to missing the event two years in a row due to the responsibility that comes with being a teenager with a weekend job.
Each year’s tractor parade adds another patch to a quilt that tells the story of families and farms, of neighbors and a small town.
Each year’s tractors pull tighter the threads that weave all these stories together.
I can’t wait to see what the next 20 bring.