At the Minnesota State Fair: Brick on a stick?

For the Mayerle family of Woodbury, their newborn son came just in time. Born June 23, he'll attend his first Minnesota State Fair at 2 months old. When they go, Stephanie and Neal Mayerle will bring little Cass straight to the brick plaza in the shadow of the grandstand.

There will be a brick waiting there with his name on it.

"That was one of the first forms we filled out after Cass was born, the State Fair brick form, to make sure we'd get it in there," Stephanie Mayerle said. "Before insurance and everything, we got that taken care of."

His 8- by 8-inch brick ("Cass Mayerle / Fair-ready since 06-23-08") will be nestled among the 1,500 other engraved bricks, honoring everything from Ferris wheel engagements to the power of corn dogs, when the fair opens this month. The brick sales began in 2002, and this year's approximately 150 new bricks, at $250 each, will bring the Minnesota State Fair Foundation thousands of dollars after engraving and installation costs.

But for the fair fanatics who order them, and the Minneapolis sandblaster who makes each one, the bricks mean personal stories and the chance to leave a memorial.

"It puts a perspective on everything else I'm working on," said 47-year-old artist Kerry Dikken (pronounced deacon). Amid his glass and stone projects that will be installed in Hilton and W hotels, the fair bricks mean a chance to come back down to earth, Dikken said.

The brick plaza is like "an interesting little novel of Minnesota," said Ron Jacobson, 52, of Coon Rapids, who bought one of Dikken's State Fair bricks this year to remember his father, Gene Jacobson, a volunteer firefighter. "A brick like that is going to be there probably 20 years before the thing wears out."

That's almost as long as Nick Henkemeyer has been attending the fair with his grandmother, Mary Jane Keep. The 22-year-old from Prior Lake bought Keep a brick last year to mark her birthday and their years of fairs. He hasn't missed a year yet.

"The fair is what we do together," he said.

'A walking encyclopedia'

Bruce Olson, 64, tells a similar story, but one that ranges over many decades. He practically grew up at the fair, so he ordered a brick to say so: "Mom worked here / Dad worked here / We grew up here / Ole & Edy's Kids."

Born in 1914 across the street from the fairgrounds, Olson's father, Clifford, known as Ole by co-workers, quit eighth grade to begin "hustling" jobs at the fair. Decades later he received a 50-year employee plaque, then retired (with a party), before coming out of retirement to work again. He worked alongside his wife, Edith, at a number of fair jobs and truly retired a year before he died, in 2000.

"The fairgrounds lost a walking encyclopedia," Olson said.

Ole's brick nestles among those dedicated to other fair fanatics and concessionaires; each is recorded in a tidy 3.5-inch three-ring binder toted by Ana Heath, a State Fair Foundation projects administrator.

"I'm probably the closest thing to a keeper of the bricks," said Heath, now in her first year in charge of the plaza. Heath is focusing on consistency and has made one assertive change: She chose Helvetica Bold as the standard brick typeface.

"We've definitely failed in maintaining a consistent brick aesthetic," Heath said, reasoning that the new standard will please fairgoers. "People at the fair really like consistency."

That's why so many families make a tradition out of annual pilgrimages to the fair, and why those who buy customized memorial bricks make a point to visit them every year. It's a chance to remember the departed in a lighthearted setting.

Remembering friends

Clayton Tomsicek, 60, of Minneapolis remembers waking at 3 a.m. in his youth to finish farm chores before driving to the fair, without expressways, from his family's beef and grain farm in Steele County. He bought a brick to remember Heidi, the family's farm cat. It says simply, "R.I.P. Heidi the Cat / 1990-2003."

"This cat was special," Tomsicek said. "I tried to come up with something that would be interesting and that would mean something to us. It's a lot better than having a marker in a pet cemetery somewhere."

Cheryl Riebe this year will visit the memorial brick Dikken made for her friend of 35 years, Kathy Dosdall. It reads: "If there is a fair in heaven she is there / Miss you."

"She battled cancer for 10 years but it never kept her away from the fair," said Riebe, 58, of Robbinsdale. "She always had the extra oomph to go there, even if she had to save her strength."

Dosdall ate a special fair treat each year, which she swore made her feel better, Riebe said.

"I'll go to the fair every year and get Kathy's honey ice cream," Riebe said, "and stand there by that brick."

Tony Gonzalez • 612-673-7415