Carrying the Fire: Generations and Tradition in Motion

In October, Flemingsburg, Kentucky comes alive with its tractor parade, a tradition that bridges generations. From shared laughter to time-honored routines, the event keeps the spirit of the community alive year after year. Tractors — some bearing the marks of decades of use, others gleaming with fresh paint — roll slowly through downtown as neighbors, children, and families gather along the sidewalks to watch the parade unfold at its own steady pace.

Opposite paths, drifting leaves, and the steady pulse of tradition moving through Flemingsburg.

Flags catch the breeze as the tractor moves on, a simple sign of community and continuity.

At first glance, the parade looks simple: tractors, banners, polished metal. But the more time you spend watching, the more layers appear. The event is woven from small, repeated actions — routines passed down from one year to the next. Generations take part side by side, and the rhythm of the parade carries a sense of continuity that feels both grounding and enduring.

Even at a lively parade, a moment of rest carries its own story.

Two generations side by side on a vintage tractor, immersed in the parade.

These customs endure because they are observed, remembered, and shared — not for spectacle, but for connection. In a world that moves at digital speed, where moments are captured and forgotten in seconds, these slower rituals resist that pace. Being there means staying present, rather than recording it only to never look at it again. It’s about feeling the rhythm of the parade, noticing how people interact, and taking in the faces of different generations. Seeing what connects us across time — rather than what separates us — gives the experience its weight and meaning. Using the viewfinder to document it allows us, as Sally Mann said, “…look into the future.” while honoring the past.

Wheels turn, overalls worn — tradition in motion.

Even without knowing the details of every tractor or family, it’s easy to sense the importance of these traditions. The parade is a living record of the town — its rhythms, its values, its shared stories. Each year repeats what matters while allowing subtle change, and that blend of continuity and adaptation is what keeps it alive. As Gustav Mahler wrote, “Tradition is not the worship of ashes, but the preservation of fire.” This parade carries that fire forward, connecting generations and keeping the community’s spirit alive.

One behind the other, two generations move together along the parade route.

Observing it, you realize the parade is less about the machines moving down the street and more about the community coming together.

Wheels turning, smile wide — a boy takes the tractor for a spin, enjoying every moment of the parade.

Meaning is found in persistence — in showing up, in witnessing the same moments unfold again and again. These rituals carry a sense of history and belonging that can’t be rushed or replicated.

Hands on the wheel, guidance nearby — a moment of shared tradition across generations.

We are the carriers of things our ancestors thought were worth remembering — the gatherings, the ways of marking time that outlast any single generation. When we keep them alive, even in small ways, we’re not just preserving the past; we’re shaping what the future will remember of us. The tractor parade may seem simple, but in its steady return each year, it reminds us that continuity itself is a form of care — a promise that what matters will not be forgotten.

“Photographs open doors into the past, but they also allow a look into the future.” — Sally Mann

The images I’ve shared here are from the past three years of observing the parade through my viewfinder — my way of seeing it, my way of witnessing the traditions, the connections, and the life of our community. I invite you to look at them, reflect on the quote, and think about what the future may hold.

Tailgate moments, country style and carefree.

A simple sign, yet it carries the weight of generations.