Granite grandeur at Stringtown

There’s not much left at Stringtown these days --- a church, an elevator, a house and the cemetery --- all gathered at a crossroads out here on the Adams County prairie along U.S. 34 east of Corning.

Pride of place belongs, as it has for more than a century, to the soaring marble confection in the cemetery that marks the graves of Henry and Mary Sophia Reese, in their time southwest Iowa’s pre-eminent power couple.

The monument always has caught my eye as I’ve driven this road, usually headed for Omaha, Lincoln or Denver, and that’s getting to be a long time now. Coming home from Red Oak late yesterday, we pulled over and I finally got around to taking some pictures of it.

Although Henry Reese blazed the trails for his family, it seems to have been Sophia who was the financial CEO of its operations. According to her 1915 obituary, when the couple arrived in Adams County during the 1850s, Henry had less than $10 in his pocket. When he died during 1901, they were the region’s largest landowners.

Henry, according to his obituary in the Adams County Union-Republican of Feb. 7, 1901, was born in Germany on May 28, 1824, and had arrived in the Chicago area as an emigrant during 1850. Two years later, he was off to the gold fields of California.

After returning to Chicago, he set off west again during 1853, arriving in Council Bluffs, probably by riverboat from St. Louis, then walked east across the prairie to Mercer Township, where he purchased 200 acres of prairie for $1.25 an acre, then the going price for government land.

He then returned to the Chicago area, where he worked to earn enough money to launch a new life in Iowa, and married Mary Sophia Linneman on Oct. 24, 1856, in Des Plaines.

Sophia had been born in Wurttemberg, Germany, on Dec. 13, 1834, had had arrived in Des Plaines with her family at age 11.

The couple traveled to Adams County soon after that marriage to take up housekeeping in a one-room cabin on the 200 acres Henry had purchased three years earlier.

By the time Henry died nearly 50 years later, on Feb. 1, 1901, the Reeses were the region’s largest landowners, with some 4,300 acres, and his estate was valued in the region of $1 million --- an astonishing amount of money in Iowa in 1901.

It’s not clear exactly what Henry died of, but a special train had been commissioned to bring a surgeon from Omaha to nearby Prescott in the hope that the surgery he performed after being transported to the Reese farm by buggy would save the patriarch’s life.

After Sophia’s death 14 years later, a good deal of the credit for this couple’s financial success was attributed to her. She was, according to reports in the Union-Republican of Aug. 11, 1915, “a remarkable businesswoman.”

“By industry and frugality” Henry and Sophia acquired an estate was “very large.” She had given financial matters her “personal attention during all the years, and the success achieved has been quite remarkable,” the Union-Republican reported.

After Henry’s death, Sophia left farming operations in the hands of her children (she had a total of eight, two of whom died young) and moved into Corning where she married Fred Brown during 1909. He died six years later, on July 30, 1915. Sophia became critically ill soon thereafter and died herself, of “kidney trouble,” on Aug. 10.

After her burial at Stringtown between Henry and their two sons who had died young, Sophia’s estate entered probate and it was, according to the Union-Republican of Aug. 25, “the largest ever settled in this part of the state.”

Sophia had distributed 1,700 acres that remained in her hands among her children before she died. The nosey newspaper editor (and most newspaper editors were nosier then than now) was able to ascertain that she also owned 19 lots in Corning --- one commercial property, but most occupied by houses.

He could not, however, come up with a firm figure on the value of Sophia’s other assets.

Whatever the case, if you take a drive through Stringtown one of these days, glance over and find your eye caught by the magnificent Reese tombstone --- you can rest assured that those who commissioned it could afford it.

Leaves, Red Oak & Planned Parenthood

I can't seem to stop taking pictures of sunflowers, but that's fine --- they'll be gone soon enough, as will September. It seems like only yesterday ....

Although the hard maples and walnuts are turning, we're a couple of weeks away from peak fall color here. Those maples always turn first and wherever I've lived, one always has turned first, often weeks before the others, to signal the seasonal shift. Here, the somewhat bedragled sentinel stands wedged between expanses of concrete along Court Avenue and the Carpenter's Hall parking lot at the foot of Columbus hill. The general forecast seems to be for a good show this year.

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We're headed west before dawn this morning to spend a day at the Montgomery County History Center in Red Oak, one of Iowa's newest (2006) local history museums. I've been anxious to see it, but have never managed to get there until now, when a small museums association gathering provides the excuse. It should be a pretty drive (actually I'm riding), too, across southwest Iowa almost to the Missouri.

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If I weren't headed in that direction, I'd at least think about heading into the Des Moines, where the annual Planned Parenthood book sale opens at 4 p.m. at the state fairgrounds. The sale continues through Monday. The admission fee today is $10, but that gives you first chance at the best books. Friday-Monday, admission's free.

Actually, I don't need any more books --- so it's probably just as well I can't make it.

This is a huge event, close to being the biggest charitable book sale in the country. Planned Parenthood has its enemies of course among Republicans and others who feel that women just aren't well equipped enough mentally to make their own informed reproductive choices. That doesn't seem to cut into the crowd for this event, however.

Frederick Douglass visits Chariton

Frederick Douglass

I’ve been wondering the last couple of days, after re-reading accounts of a visit Frederick Douglass made to Chariton during January of 1873, what he would make of our current culture wars, the current state of “Christianity” and what he might say about both.

For those who have forgotten, Douglass --- born into slavery in Maryland about 1818 --- became after his escape to freedom in the North a social reformer on many fronts, abolitionist, orator, writer and statesman --- one of the towering intellects of the mid to later 19th century.

Once the battle for emancipation had been won, he continued to fight for universal suffrage, including women's suffrage, equality and an end to racism.

Here’s what Douglass had to say during 1845 about the state of Christianity in the context of slavery:

“I love the pure, peaceable, and impartial Christianity of Christ; I therefore hate the corrupt, slaveholding, women-whipping, cradle-plundering, partial, and hypocritical Christianity of this land. Indeed, I can see no reason, but the most deceitful one, for calling the religion of this land Christianity. I look upon it as the climax of all misnomers, the boldest of all frauds, and the grossest of all libels.” (Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave)

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When Douglass arrived in Chariton during January of 1873, he was traveling on the lecture circuit. He had recently moved his family to Washington, D.C., after the family home in Rochester, N.Y., had burned --- a fire involving suspected arson.

His address to the people of Chariton on the topic “Self-made Men” would be the first delivered in the brand new Mallory Opera House, a grand building at the north end of the west side of Chariton’s square.

The Chariton Patriot, in its edition of Tuesday, Jan. 15, carried the following notice of his impending visit under the headline, “Frederick Douglass”:

“We are glad to announce that the people of Chariton and vicinity are to have an opportunity of listening to a lecture from this eminent orator. He is to speak at Mallory’s Opera Hall on Saturday evening, January 25th. It is needless to say much of him, as the name of “Fred Douglass” is a household word in this country, and he justly stands second to none of the many able speakers. Mr. Douglass is pre-eminently the representative man of the colored race in the United States, and being but part African blood, has a right to the claim he makes to speak for the white race as well.”

Doors would open at 7 p.m. with the address to begin at 7:30. Cost of admission was to be 50 cents.

The reference here to “but part African blood” reflects a conceit, even among the more liberal, that began as astonished disbelief among the white majority when Douglass published his first autobiography in 1845. A black person couldn’t possibly have written it, most white folks thought.

When it became evident that Douglass was in fact a highly-skilled writer, as well as an accomplished orator, whites invented a new conceit --- that his father had been white --- implying that “white” blood could somehow redeem “black” blood and explain his talents.

Douglass in fact had no idea who his father was and never identified as anything other than black. As was common practice in slave-holding society, he had been separated from his mother when he was weaned and placed in the care of a grandmother. At age 7, he was taken from his grandmother and moved to another plantation.

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The turnout for Douglass’s lecture that January night was disappointing, but probably not surprising in a place like Chariton. Patriot editor Moses Folsom reported on it this way, with an edge of sarcasm, in his Jan. 29 edition:

“The audience was good, of course in point of quality, for it is usually the more intelligent of community that attend first class lectures. But we are ashamed to announce the fact that but a little over a hundred made up the number of hearers. Mr. Douglass is universally acknowledged to be one of our best lecturers, and from this fact, together with the prominent position that he has occupied as the leading representative of the colored race in this country, one would have supposed that the mere announcement , that he would speak in our town for the first, and probably last, time would have been sufficient to insure a crowded house. But so far as this from being true, that bills and “flaming posters” were necessary to draw the meager number named. We hope that his is not a fair test of Chariton’s disposition in a literary point of view, and comfort ourselves with the thought that the Methodist meeting being in progress, and money very scarce, may account in a great measure for the small attendance.”

Despite his righteous indignation, even the broad-minded Folsom was prone a little racism himself: “His language, his style of delivery and general appearance on the platform all indicated a high degree of culture, while the entire absence of that affectation and egotism which so frequently is found with colored speakers has been a matter of remark by many who heard him,” Folsom reported.

It would be interesting to know how many “colored” speakers Folsom, then in his mid-20s, had listened to previously. Still, the editor’s heart was in the right place.

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Good-hearted probably wouldn’t describe the outlook of the editor of the Patriot’s competitor, the Chariton Leader, who also covered the Douglass address.

It’s not clear who the editor was, since no Patriot issues of this date survive. It may have been N.B. Branner, a Chariton attorney/editor who had returned home a few years earlier after Civil War service for the Confederacy. Or perhaps Dan Baker, also an attorney/editor, who was a colleague.The Patriot was Lincoln Republican in editorial outlook; the Leader, Copperhead Democrat.

Because issues of The Leader did not survive, we have to rely on Folsom’s Feb. 5 account of what was written there

“The last week’s Leader, in commenting on Fred Douglass’ lecture, after speaking very favorable of it, proceeds to use the following language,” Folsom reported.

“We give the white blood all the credit for whatever ability or genius he may exhibit. We have failed so far in our life to see any thing in the colored race which entitles it to respect as the social or mental equal of the whites, and we don’t believe that God or nature ever intended that race to stand on equal footing with Caucasian, and it --- never will!”

Folsom responded (in part), “Now the query arises, Whence the necessity for this attack on the colored race? Suppose it is true that “God never intended that they should stand on an equal footing with the Caucasian.” (Which by the way would be accusing Him of a partiality that is inconsistent with His character as we have been educated to view it.” Is it necessary to be continually reminding them of the fact, and of their inferiority? We think not. Indeed we see no apology for it, either in the light of etiquette or Christianity.”

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Editors Folsom and Baker moved on --- Folsom roamed the country after the mid-1870s in various professional capacities until ending up finally in Florida; Baker left for California in the 1880s where he gained a reputation as a crusading newspaper editor. Branner, whose family was affluent and prominent in Chariton into the early 20th century, stuck around until death, foregoing bachelorhood late in life to marry a caregiver.

The culture wars continue, however, even emerging now and then in the pages of our local newspapers.

That "Square Deal" blog

I've cobbled together a header, posted a few vintage photos and now linked from the sidebar at right "Chariton's Square Deal," a blog developed for the Lucas County Historical Society, the Chariton Historic Preservation Commission and my own entertainment.

There are days when I think I have entertainment overload, however. I got so involved in other projects last Tuesday I actually forgot it was Tuesday and didn't realize until Wednesday that I'd missed a couple of  meetings. I think it's time to start writing stuff down on a calendar instead of depending on memory.

As this progresses, I hope, logical navigation will be from the right sidebar. The beginning of the form is there, but needs development. Anyhow, you're welcome to take a look.

The postcard images were collected by the late and lamented Chariton native Gary Tharp, and I've had them for a long time. The originals were given to the Lucas County Historical Society by his brother, Ronnie, after Gary's death. Other vintage images are from the historical society's collection and various other sources. As time goes by, I'll indicate photo sources.

While anyone interested is welcome to download these images for personal use, the implied message involved in identifying sources involves Web etiquitte. If you plan to reuse images found here, indicate the source; and do not use them for commercial purposes without seeking permission, especially for those images from the society collection.

I've used an image here of the south side of the Chariton square, which because of fire and assorted disasters, including progress, is the most changed. If you didn't know the territory, you'd not recognize it when comparing the view then and the view now.

Only two of these old buildings remain, one at the far east end of the block now occupied by Chariton Floral and the other, housing a bar, just west of the alley. A drive-up bank occupies the larger share of the footprint of the big block in the foreground, which burned.

When the sun comes out again later this week, I'll get busy shooting more "after" views to match up with all these "befores."

In no rush at Rush Cemetery

Meandering home after lunch down along the South Chariton on Sunday, a day trending toward gray and showers, I stopped at Rush Cemetery to visit the biggest red cedar I know of and also to ponder the two rows of minimally marked graves there that remain a mystery --- to me at least. I left the conversation about those graves maybe 30 years ago, when Helen McCracken still was alive and kicking, and it could be that someone's worked it all out by now.

Rush in this instance is a family name, not a speed, and Rushes have been burying their dead here --- and still are --- since the 1850s, along with other neighborhood families.

The cemetery is located in Section 3 of Wayne County's Benton Township, about two and a half miles south of Cambria. Turn south off the blacktop just east of Cambria and drive south past the Cambria Cemetery, then start watching on your left for the cemetery lane after you crest the hill south of the South Chariton crossing, just before the road wanders off to the southwest.

The short lane off the east side of the main road leads through oak timber to a parking area in front of the cemetery gates. The cemetery itself is a clearing that opens out to the east and southeast with a number of fine trees near the west fence.

Hickory nuts were beginning to fall from a grand shagbark specimen due east of the gate, so I stopped to admire it. You don't have to get too close to see where "shagbark" comes from and low-growing limbs offer a look at husked nuts not yet ready to come down.

Looking northeast through that hickory's leaves, you get a good view of the huge red cedar that I would guess was transplanted here sometime during the 1850s to shade a grave then fresh. This is the biggest cedar I know of, although I'm sure there are others that match or surpass it (there are lots of cedars in southern Iowa, it's our only native "evergreen"). Just look at that trunk!

The row of mystery graves is near the cemetery's eastern fence, almost due east of the big hickory. There are several similar stones scattered to the north, but the striking thing about these is the fact they're somewhat set apart and so evenly spaced.

The best guess 30 years ago was that these little stones marked the graves of Wayne Countyans who had died at the poor farm, some distance to the southeast between the cemetery and Corydon. So that's the story I'm sticking to --- until somebody tells me different.

Circle round the square

I entertained myself before Friday's homecoming parade by trying to match early post card views of the north and east sides of Chariton's square. The sun was in the right place to do this and the crowd made the operation livelier than it would have been, say, on a Sunday afternoon.

This is the north side, using postcard views collected by the late Gary Tharp, now in the collection of the Lucas County Historical Society. Although Gary spent much of his adult life in the East, then in California, he remained intensely interested in Lucas County history and I wish various computer crashes along the way hadn't wiped out my correspondence with him.

The view at the top here, looking from west to east, probably dates from not long after 1900 (I figured this all out one time, but can't find those notes). By that time, fires had wiped out all of the buildings.in the west half of the block other than the "Mallory Brick," the two-story building adjoining the alley where U.S. Bank now is located. Although whoever hand-colored the image used to produce this card made all the bricks a uniform red, bricks used in the newer buildings here actually are in various shades of brown popular at the turn of the 20th century. Notably missing is the Charitone Hotel, which now anchors the northeast corner of the square.

By the time the second photo was taken during the 1920s, Mallory Brick had been replaced with a building that matches its neighbor to the west and the Charitone also had been built. Below is the same view, taken Friday. The most notable changes are the post and shingle arcade that now obscures street-level facades and second-floor windows of the Smyth Building that have been blinded.

All of the buildings in the east half of the north side are older and more uniform in color --- the three-front Brown Block just east of the alley, the double-front Blake Building, the double-front I.O.O.F. Building and the Piper's Building, which because of its size when compared to the I.O.O.F. Building manages to look a little like a child holding hands with a parent.

Here's the same view taken during the 1950s. Note in both that the three-story Union Block (or First National Bank building) anchors the northwest corner of the square. Its destruction in order to clear the way for the squat blond strip-mallish bank building now there probably was the biggest non-disaster loss suffered to date by the squarescape.

And here's roughtly the same view on Friday. Although the buildings are easily recognizable and not substantially altered, the only veteran business remaining is Piper's.

There will be more of this sort of thing here as the days pass because I'm starting a new blog, "Chariton's Square Deal." And yes, I know, the previous new blog, "Mallory's Castle," hasn't been progressing with lightning speed. But I'm going to do it anyway. Square Deal isn't presentable yet, but when it is I'll link it out of the sidebar.

Seeing Charger red on Homecoming

Under the awning at Piper's before the parade.

The principal color was maroon when my parents were students at Chariton High School during the 1930s. At some point, maroon turned to bright red but teams remained Chargers. I went to school in Russell during the Bluebird phase, so my color should be obvious even though the Bluebrids became Trojans and finally, a couple of years ago, just flew away. We're all Chargers now, as they say. I really like red anyhow.

Anyhow, Friday was Homecoming and I put on a red shirt and went uptown for the parade, walking because Homecoming is a big deal in Chariton and had I driven I wouldn't have been able to find a place to park. The square was a sea of red because this is a big parade, perhaps not quite as big as the 4th of July parade but with more variety since the school is involved.

It was  a drop-dead beautiful early fall day, so that helped.

There were bands --- this is the high school band but the middle school band came along later.

There was royalty --- Homecoming Queen Amber Sanders and King Cole Pierschbacher with their court following in other convertables.

There were fire trucks --- most of them newer than this model.

Except for Old Betsy, always older than anything else. I keep trying to take the perfect photo of Old Betsy. This isn't it. I'll try again at the Christmas parade.

There were lots of floats and other stuff --- this was a BIG parade. But I stopped taking photos about here when I remembered I hadn't emptied the camera's memory yet Friday and had been shooting wildflowers in the morning, then spent about 20 minutes taking dozens of photos of buildings on the square before the parade began. Although I can take up to 150 images before the camera shuts down, I was getting close and there was one more event to take photos of.

After the parade, several of us gatherined in the bandstand so that several Lucas County Historical Society board members and myself could officially accept for permanent display a vintage sign than once hung in the Thomas & Schuholz clothing store on the northwest corner of the square (I remember Thomas & Schuholz as Halden & Thomas; there's a jewelry store there now).

Somehow, this pressed-tin sign in exceptionally good condition had ended up in Tennessee and how it got home to Chariton is quite a story in itself.

Someone spotted it, on eBay if I remember correctly, in a Nashville antiques emporium. CHS graduate Andy Towle, who now lives in Murfreesboro, investigated. The price was $700. Thomas and/or Schuholz would just plain faint is someone told them the sign they probably received free as an advertising promotion was now on the market for that much. But it's a cool sign, and it is 2011.

After Mary Stierwalt, who operates Family Shoe Store, heard about the sign she got to talking with others about the possibility of bringing it home. If 700 people contributed $1 each, the purchase could be made, they decided. So a drive was started and it didn't take long to meet and exceed that goal, although some donations were substantially more than $1.

Andy Towle is the tall guy; Mary, to his left in a similar sweatshirt.

Andy then bought the sign and loaded it into this vehicle for the trip home to Chariton for homecoming weekend. Both he and it arrived safely and the Historical Society now is the grateful official owner.

The sign will remain in Mary's front window uptown until after Oct. 1, so anyone who walks by can admire it. After that, we'll take it down to the museum and install it in its permanent home.

And the homecoming game? Don't ask.

Dispatches from the holy war: 9/23

Stephen Hill (from Iraq)

Well, it’s been kind of a slow week around here as summer turned to fall.

We survived Wednesday prayer meeting night --- when holiness types across America fell united to their knees, asking God to open the earth and swallow Vermont just to prove how pissed off he was at the demise of don’t ask, don’t tell --- and to cut down on the number of states where same-sex marriage is legal.

I’d just as leave watch molasses drip as a GOP presidential debate, but did see a clip of Florida Republicans jeering a gay soldier, Stephen Hill, speaking from Iraq last night, when he asked the hopefuls, “do you plan to circumvent the progress that has been made for gay and lesbian soldiers in the military?”

“Sure thing,” replied Rick Santorum to a rousing round of hand-clapping approval.

Didn’t have my applause-o-meter turned on, so couldn’t tell if the enthusiasm level in Orlando was as high as it was recently at the Reagan Presidential Library, when the crowd applauded the number of executions in Texas under Rick Perry, or during CNN’s recent “tea party” debate, when the audience showed its approval for the notion that a sick person should be allowed to die if he didn’t have health insurance.

You’ve just gotta love these guys.

Reports suggest most of the attention in Florida was centered on Ken-doll candidates Perry and Mitt Romney. Poor Michele Bachmann, with neither a penis nor much of substance between her ears, seems to be falling by the wayside.

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Back up here in Iowa, our own Terrace Hill Teletubby Terry Branstad pulled off a slick maneuver last week by appointing a greedy Democrat state senator, Swati Dandekar, to the Iowa Utilities Board (salary, $135,000 annually).

That sets the stage for a special election in a GOP-leaning district that could even the balance in the Iowa Senate, where Democrats now hold a two-seat edge, perhaps giving new impetus to a constitutional amendment banning same-sex marriage and all sorts of other Republican mischief.

Jamey Rodemeyer

And out there near Buffalo in New York, Amherst police are investigating the possibility that three students could be charged with harassment, cyber-harassment or hate crimes after the suicide last week of 14-year-old Jamey Rodemeyer. His parents, who seem to have been consistently supportive, say Jamey had endured years of anti-gay bullying.

Here, via YouTube, is a video the poor kid made earlier this year for the “It Gets Better” project, when things seemed to be going better for him.



One thing that struck me earlier in the week when watching the “coming out” video of 21-year-old gay airman Randy Phillips was his vulnerability --- fear of parental rejection if his sexual orientation were known. Because of that fear, he had invited thousands to follow his story online, albeit anonymously, for months before he worked up enough courage to talk to his dad.

Although Randy’s dad was supportive, that fear seems justified. PFLAG estimates, for example, that 25 percent of parents who become aware that a child is LBGT simply kick him or her out onto the street. The danger of this happening seems to be greater in “Christian” homes.

Gay kids are expected to raise their parents, rather than the other way around, and while many manage to do that others don’t.

Romancing the equinox

I suppose the neighbors would think it odd if I lion-danced up to their front doors bearing a lantern and mooncakes this week, but it is the season you know, turning now to autumn. 

I'd be a little late. Tet Trung Thu, as the moon festival is known in Vietnam, is celebrated on the 15th day of the eighth month of the Chinese calendar --- close to the equinox although usually not on it ---  Sept. 12 this year. But who in Lucas County would know?

Besides, I doubt Hy-Vee has lotus seed paste --- and you really need that as the base for mooncake filling if you're a traditionalist. So I'll  be satisfied with memories of children dancing through lantern-lit streets and friends sharing the cakes, strange to western tastebuds.

It seems like we should do something to mark the equinox, which will occur here at 4:05 a.m. tomorrow. Nature certainly is sending summer out with a series of visual firecrackers.

Maximilian's sunflowers, the most dramatic of the autumn explosions, are just coming into bloom, incomparable among trailside bouquets with goldenrod, purple and white asters and prairie grasses in full plume.

I have mixed feelings about the bottle gentians, whose appearance in the grass seemed abrupt but really wasn't. These are among the last of the summer flowers to endure as the cold advances.

The days here this week have been mild and sunny and the air conditioning, set at 80 last time I looked, even kicked in Monday evening. But the air was slightly iced as we moved heavier items around on museum hill yesterday morning, preparing for a mid-October celebration --- and it felt good.

It was dark when we left the church at 7:30 last night after evensong. Twelve hours of sunlight, twelve hours of moonlight just now as the seasons change. A couple of hours earlier, monarchs had been feeding.

One of the oddest things about the human condition is our persistent demand for miracles when we already have them --- coming into bloom in full view around us.

Ask a queer heretic

This odd little question-and-answer exercise originated at a blog I read, one populated for the most part by younger folks I'd call recovering evangelicals --- plus the occasional old-line evangelical who runs around with a stick trying to chase them back into the fold.

One challenge these guys face results from the bunker mentality of some of the churches from which they came --- righteous us safe in here vs. the wicked other out there in a fallen world. They just don't know much about those who do not share the religious and social views they grew up with.

So a regular question-and-answer session is a popular blog feature ---- "Ask a Catholic," for example, or "Ask a Quaker." Last week it was "Ask a Gay Christian." The question-answerer was/is Justin Lee, who heads up an outfit called the Gay Christian Network.

When I was these guys' age, "Gay Christian" was an oxymoron --- you couldn't be both. Hell was absolutely fabulous because that's where all us homo-sex-uals went, but don't bother knocking on heaven's gate. I'm fine with that now --- it's liberating because you learn quickly to not take seriously what the institutional church has to say on many topics. And it's an aid to keeping your guard up when Christians turn toxic.

But this creates a really tough situation for kids who grow up in Christian bunkers, so the fact evangelicals are even willing to concede there might be something like a gay Christian is progress.

Justin Lee, who grew up in one of those bunkers, is a bridge-builder --- just what the doctor probably ordered for these circumstances. Waaaay nice. Willing to turn the other cheek. The original questions are here. And Justin's answers are here.

I'm not, and have no particular objection to burning bridges now and then --- it's healthy. So here are some questions I plucked (unaltered) from those submitted. And answers from a queer heretic.

Q, Is it possible in your view for someone to disagree with you --- to believe that the Bible consistently teaches sexual activity is intended for heterosexual marriage only --- and for that person to not be a bigot, homophobe, motivated by ignorance or fear?

A. Sure. My point would be, however, that the Bible is not the word of God, merely words about God. I don’t place any value on what some of those words may or may not say about homosexual acts. Feel free to argue about various interpretations of the “gotcha” passages, however, if it amuses you.

Q. Can a church that is not affirming still be welcoming to an LGBTQ Christian? What kinds of actions would make you feel more welcome, even if the church still believed/taught that gay relationships are sinful?

Personally, I would appreciate not being stoned. But why would a LGBTQ Christian want to have anything to do with a non-affirming church?

Q. So whats your view, as a Christian gay, of sexuality? Is sex just for "marriage" because you are a Christian? I've always been curious if Christian gays' views of marriage and family, commitment and sexuality are just like other Christians --- well, except for the obvious.

A. Legalize gay marriage, then ask again. Personally, I don’t view sex as recreational but as part of loving relationships even when marriage is not an option. But that’s not because I’m a “Christian.” It’s the way I was raised.

Q. Many seem to adhere to the idea David and Daniel were gay, citing their intimacy with other males as proof. Not only does this disregard historical context, but it insinuates all intimacy is sexual intimacy. We cannot look to a David and Jonathan as a model for loyal fellowship because their relationship was sexual. That is wrong.

A. I’ve never suggested David was gay and have no idea what the “Daniel” reference is all about. But if you’re having trouble with the relationship between David and Jonathan I’d say it’s a personal issue.

Q. What would you say to a person who is married to someone of the opposite sex, yet who has recently come to the conviction that they are gay?

A. Be frank, be kind, work creatively and lovingly with your spouse, live up to parental responsibilities if any, then go forth and live honestly.

Q. For me, one main question then, is despite everything we "feel" about being homosexual, our physical bodies are just not designed for it - the bits and pieces just don't fit together. That seems to be the crunch, we obviously aren't created to be this way, however you try to justify it. Your response?

A. LGBT people have no problem making the bits and pieces “fit” and many aspects of creation defy a logical explanation. If your line of thought is carried to a logical conclusion, for example, human females should breed annually from puberty to menopause.

 Q. Given all the nasty rhetoric that has been aimed at the LGBT community -- and in that sense, at you personally -- by Christian and Christian political leaders, what is it about Christianity itself that's so compelling that you haven't been turned off completely by so many of its messengers? 

A. Faith is not intellectual, it’s a leading and a gift. The sources of it cannot be proven. When you burn your Bible and walk away, then are led back --- that’s compelling.

Q. As the parent of gay son who has left the church, what advice can you offer me as to how I can  I encourage him to relook at his beliefs in Jesus and the church?

A. Pray, maybe. Lead by example and back off. You say you have faith; live like it.

Q. I would be interested to hear about what gay Christians believe that church discipline (primarily in the positive sense of 'discipling', but also in the sense of imposing sanctions upon sexual sin that is persisted in) in the area of sexual behaviour should be like in contexts where homosexual relationships are accepted and affirmed.

A. I’ve never thought of the church as a disciplinary agent. If I found myself among people who did, I’d go elsewhere --- can’t help on this one.


Q. When you first realized you were gay, what verses in the Bible did you struggle with the most? And how did you reconcile them in order to find peace?

A. I realized I was gay when I was about 4 --- too young to struggle with Bible verses. By the time I was old enough to struggle, I wasn’t interested in Bible verses. And no one was trying to shove Bible verses down my throat. I can recite John 3:16 at the drop of a hat, and it's not a bad verse, but that’s as far as it goes.

Q. Do you know any homosexual Christians that have chosen to remain single and celibate? How well do they seem to cope with that? What would you advise a person who is gay but believes that homosexual relationships and activity would be wrong?

A. Sure, any number of committed Roman Catholic priests. Most do fine, some don’t. My advice? Get over it --- unless you want to join the Catholic clergy roster.

Q. Do you make a distinction between being gay, and living a gay lifestyle? (Would you argue that it's not a sin to be gay, but it is to be in a homosexual relationship?)

A. What, pray tell, is gay lifestyle? I just finished mowing the lawn in a vaguely circular pattern. That’s as gay as lifestyle gets around here. What could possibly be sinful about a loving committed relationship, gay or straight?

Q. How do you react/respond to people who say "I love you and see beauty in your relationships with other men, but intellectual honesty won't allow me to explain away these verses in the Bible, so if you ask my opinion about gay sex, I must say I believe it to be a sin. But I still want to be your friend and follow Jesus at your side." Do you feel it's okay for people to feel that way, or is it akin to "The Bible affirms slavery, and so do I"?

A. This must be very confusing for you and I’m sorry, but you probably really don’t want to be my friend. Friendly acquaintance, perhaps, and that’s fine.

Q. Can you present (or link to) an apologetic (as in explanitory, not that you're sorry), summary of the justification of the removal of homosexual acts from our "sin" category?

 A. It’s your “sin” category, not mine, so I really can’t help. 

Q, I think my main questions is why doesn't homosexuality fall into the same category as other sins?

A. There you go again. It’s your sin, not mine.

Q. We don't use "I'm just born that way" as an excuse for something like anger, so why is it so commonly used to condone sexuality?

A. So far as I know, we’re not born angry. We are, however, born gay or straight, occasionally in between.


Q. My question is: why do homosexuals feel they have the license to embrace whatever sexual behavior they feel is natural while other people try to have self-control? If what most gays have told me about their natural feelings, they feel like they are more special than other people.

A. Hmmm. Have heterosexuals really cornered the market on self-control? And quite frankly I’ve never maintained that I was especially special.  

Q. My question is, can you reflect on how "love the sinner, hate the sin" is used in the church today? In your experience, how is it perceived by the gay community in general and gay Christians in particular?

A. Sexual orientation is an integral part of who we are. If you truly hate who we are, then you truly hate us. I’d bet you neither really love me nor really hate the fact I’m gay. Perhaps a new cliché is in order.

Q. From the perspective of the Christian LBGT community, should persons who are in churches which are not gay affirming leave them and join churches which are, or should they stay and try to change them? 

A. It all depends on how strong a stomach you have and how much punishment you're prepared to take. I’m glad some stay and fight, God bless ‘em, but saving the church from itself is not a major concern of mine. 

Q. Help me understand how you can choose to live this way as a Christian without choosing celibacy. In other words, how can we be disobedient to God's Word and expect to have unhindered fellowship with Him?

 A. I am a Trinitarian, not a Quaditarian (God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Bible and God the Holy Ghost). Jesus is God’s Word and he didn’t have anything to say about homosexuality. The Bible is, well, just words.


Q. And if you support same-sex marriage, how do understand that in light of Paul's teaching about marriage being a symbol of Christ's relationship with the church?

A. This bride of Christ thing is a silly and vaguely troubling metaphor that makes me giggle every time I read it (does Jesus wear a condom?). Jesus was a single guy involved primarily in same-sex relationships --- and no I’m not suggesting he was gay.

Q. Do you believe that it is possible for others to truly love you while also believing that homosexual behavior is a sin? What about God?

A. Others? No. God? Not a problem.

Q, How as Christians should we react to homosexual adoption? Do you think Christian or Catholic nonprofits who assist in adoptions should have the right to deny services to homosexuals?

A. Catholics are Christians, too --- just saying. If nonprofits accept public money, their right to discriminate is modified by public law.

Q. I haven't made up my mind about whether or not I can affirm even long-term committed gay sex, not only because of some passages of Scripture, but because homosexual behavior is against nature and just doesn't make sense. I don't mean this statement to be offensive, I'm just telling ya'll where I'm at.

A. I feel your pain, you silly narcissistic cow.

Q. Can you ever forgive us?

A. Sure. That’s what Christianity is about. And ma’m, I’m sorry I called ya’ll a cow.

 

"finally & formally takes effect"

The whorehouse immediately adjacent to our sandbagged gate at the Saigon compound --- once a small three-story hotel --- had until Tet been inside, easing the commute for the captain in charge. Mama-san was his girlfriend, filling in until DEROS for a stateside wife. Ah war stories.

Queers were by comparison to some of our straight friends --- enthusiastic patrons of the bars, brothels, massage parlors and “barber shops,” then sick call for a shot of this or that to ward off minor STDs --- a sedate lot.

Working long hours and living on the economy so far as food was concerned, gay and straight alike, we spent a lot of time, some more than others, scrounging for meals --- marauding foodies. Or sitting around in the rooms of senior NCOs, who could legally keep booze in their quarters, drinking, talking and listening to music. Pretty exciting stuff.

Everyone knew everyone else fairly well. But there were no homophobic slurs or harassment, casual or otherwise. Our MP detachment amused itself now and then trying to catch the superspook who lived down the balcony in bed with his Vietnamese boyfriend --- ka-thud, ka-thud past the door at 2 in the morning. But there seemed to be no malice even in that. Military types are far more sensible that civilians sometimes give them credit for.

But since we actually weren’t there, forbidden by regulations to serve, caution was required --- even in laxer times when the need for cannon fodder mitigates the urge to discharge. That less-than-honorable exit could mean your family would find out and you couldn’t go home again. Potential civilian employers probably would find out, too, derailing careers before they started.

That’s all in the past now after Don’t Ask Don’t Tell fizzled out overnight despite the best efforts of morally bankrupt Republican politicians and the Christianist freak fringe to hold on to it. About time.

A lot of determined military and ex-military types kept the momentum going, but heterosexual allies, most notably Democrats and a few Republicans (none from Iowa) in Congress along with the Obama administration, are primarily responsible.

A brain-dead award goes to those who have suggested that currently serving military personnel lack the integrity and honor to implement DADT’s repeal with minimal fuss and remain focused on mission.

And the sound of the tiniest and most pathetic violin accompanies the whining of a few military chaplains who have expressed fear that their Christian rights might be interfered with if, God forbid, they were required to extend the love of Christ to include gay troops, too.

Along with thousands of others, I've been following for weeks via YouTube the coming-out process of 21-year-old gay Airman Randy Phillips recently returned to home base Germany after deployment to the Mideast. Until this morning he'd been faceless, but with the repeal of DADT no longer is. He also worked up the courage, finally, to call home to Alabama and tell his dad he's gay. It's an amazing series of video clips embodying the most poignant aspect of these holy wars --- the horrifying fear, in some instances realized, that if  parents know they'll no longer love.

In honor of Bill Heusinkveld

The Vermilion house, or Pinecrest, is one of countless aspects of Appanoose County history that the late Bill Heusinkveld researched and wrote about during his remarkable second career.

Willis M. “Bill” Heusinkveld, Appanoose County’s preeminent local historian, died in Centerville on Thursday, age 86. Funeral services will be at 10 a.m. Tuesday in Centerville’s beautiful old First Presbyterian Church with burial in Oakland Cemetery where he will join many of the people he wrote about over the years.

A native of Hull, in northwest Iowa, Heusinkveld’s first career was as an electrical engineer for Iowa Southern Utilities. His remarkable second career, commencing when he “retired” during 1990, was as a researcher and prolific writer, recording for posterity an amazing range of detail about the history of his adopted home. That's Bill at left in a Centerville Daily Iowegian photo.

I have five of his books here, all beautifully researched and written but simply produced and affordable, some punched for binders, most spiral-bound, all containing a wealth of information.

In addition to books, Heusinkveld wrote a history-related column for the Centerville newspaper, the Iowegian --- some 428 of them. His final book, a compilation of columns entitled “My Last Hurrah for Appanoose History,” was published last year.

Here’s a list of Heusinkveld’s body of work: "Heusinkveld's in America,” first published in 1966 and updated in 1991, "Mormon Trails across Appanoose County, Iowa" published in 1995, "This Day in Iowa History" published in 1995, "Cemeteries of Appanoose County, Iowa" published in 1999, "Towns of Appanoose County, Iowa" published in 2003, "101 Historic Sketches of Pioneer Days in Appanoose County, Iowa" published in 2004, "The Appanoose County Courthouse Centennial," published in 2004, "Historic Homes of Centerville, Iowa" published in 2004, "The History of Coal Mining in Appanoose County" published in 2007, "Civil War History of Nine Iowa Companies" published in 2007, "History of the First Presbyterian Church, Centerville" published in 2008, "A History of Centerville, Iowa" published in 2009 and "My Last Hurrah for Appanoose History" published in 2010.

One of the Centerville homes Heusinkveld wrote about during 2004, Pinecrest or the Vermilion house, is on the market now, offered privately by its owners. If interested in more information, you can find that listing here.

I’ve lifted in its entirety from Heusinkveld’s “Historic Homes of Centerville” his account of the Vermilion house as a minor tribute and also to give an idea of how he researched and wrote.

THE VERMILION HOUSE/PINECREST

By Bill Heusinkveld

The home pictured above is located in the S.E ¼ of the S.W. ¼ of Section 35 of what was initially called Cedar Township. The land was first owned by William Ware by patent from the U.S. Government in 1856. There were land transactions of portions of Mr. Ware’s land to other owners. In 1870, William F. Vermillion decided to build his dream home in this location. He contracted with a well-known architect, C.A. Dunham of the firm of Dunham and Jordan in Burlington, to design his house. He purchased three acres from William Ware and five acres from Rhoda Miller in February, 1871, so he could begin construction. He kept buying additional land until 1875, ending up with a total of 32 acres consisting of wooded pastureland.

William F. Vermilion (1830-1894) was born in Kentucky and came to Appanoose County in 1857 as a physician after attending DePauw University and Rush Medical College in Chicago. In 1858 he married Mary Alice Cecilia Kemper, a school teacher he had met while in Indiana. The Kemper family had moved to Iowa in 1855. Mary lived in the house until she died in 1883.

William practiced medicine for a time in Iconium. During the Civil War, William organized Company F from men of the Iconium area in the summer of 1862 and was commissioned captain. He took his company to the front as part of the 36th Infantry, commanded by Francis M. Drake. He escaped the terrible defeat at the Battle of Marks Mills, because he had been sent back home to recruit replacements for all the deaths caused by illnesses. During the war he carried on an extensive letter correspondence with his wife, Mary. This correspondence has been preserved and published in a book by Donald C. Elder III.

After the war he studied law. He became a partner with Col. E.C. Haynes and was the senior member of the firm of Vermilion, Haynes and Vermilion. He served one term in the Iowa Senate. The area surrounding Centerville was named Vermillion Township in his honor, although they misspelled his name.

W.F. Vermilion had his fine two-story frame house built amidst the evergreens. It is set on a wooded knoll west of Centerville and overlooks the town. The house is an excellent example of vernacular Italianate Victorian architecture. The exterior features paired brackets with decorative jigsaw work to support the eaves. There are denticular cornice friezes, tall windows with bracketed or arched hoods, a large bay window on the south side and highly detailed main entrance porch and side porches supported by square, slender wooden posts. There are multiple low-pitched roof levels resembling Italian Tuscan villas. The highest flat rooftop was crowned by a widow’s walk. All exterior design elements represent typical features of classic Italianate Victorian architecture. The house is believed to have cost $4,000.

The interior decorative features include a quarter-turn walnut staircase, paneled doors (some with etched glass), 1870 parlor stove and dining room fireplace. Victorian wallpapers with friezes and picture rails, pocket doors and Victorian furnishings and fixtures. The ceilings are striking, made of pressed tin.

The barn and gazebo behind the house also date from the decade 1870-1880, the barn built of heavy oak beams pegged together with oak pegs. The grounds immediately surrounding the house contain an apple orchard, pine, hickory, oak and other shade trees, the profusion of greenery contributing to the character of this country home.

William Vermilion died in 1894, his wife, Mary, having preceded him by 11 years, and the estate went to his only offspring, Charles W. Vermilion (1866-1927) being valued at $10,000 at that time. C.W. also graduated from DePauw University and the University of Michigan Law School. He returned to practice law and became a judge on the Iowa Supreme Court until his death. He and his wife, Eloise (Biddle), had one daughter, Dane. C.W. Vermilion did not keep the home very long. He sold it to Morris J. Hukill, a farmer, in 1897 for $6,000. Morris Hukill had a wife, Sarah J. Hukill, and a son, William R. Hukill.

Francis M. and Matilda Banta bought the house, complete with buildings, in 1910 for $5,500. They were also farmers and had a large family. Mr. Banta related that Captain Vermilion and Ben Kindig had built a plank boardwalk from the Vermilion country home all the way to town so he could walk to town. The walk was two boards wide, using 2x12 planks side by side.

The estate fell on hard times in the depression years and was mortgaged to the Iowa Trust Bank from 1931 to 1938. F.M. Banta was too old to farm and too broke to fix the house. A subsequent owner said they ran hogs through it!

Francis Banta died in 1942 and the estate went to his children, Glen, Paul, Nor Hoover and Lucille Hunter. No one lived there and squatters occupied the property. In 1943 they filed for right of possession. This did not succeed, and the Banta heirs sold it to John and Lydia Heimes in a very run-down condition in 1943 for $2,750.

John Heimes was the manager of J.C. Penny Co. He proceeded with restoration and modernization of the home. He discarded a “gasolier” acetylene gas lighting system fed by a carbide generator in the basement, and replaced it with modern electric wiring. He installed some of Penny’s old “beehive” lights in the house. He also added central heating and plumbing. Some of the small storage rooms became bathrooms. They called their home “Pinecrest,” a name it still carries.

In 1965, Lydia Heimes inherited John Heimes’ share of the property. Then in 1973 it went to their children, Martin Heimes and Margaret Easton, who sold it to the McConville family three years later.

Dr. James B. and Virginia A. McConville bought the property in 1976, including 26 acres, house, barn and five other buildings, for $75,000. They valued the home for its history and embarked on a campaign to restore the home to its original beauty while retaining its architecture. They went through the procedure to have the home placed on the National Register of Historic Places.

The McConvilles were coal miners from Ireland and later Scotland. They came to the Mystic area in 1888 and bought and operated several area mines. Brad’s father, James Patrick McConville, married Marjorie Bradley and they had three children, Joynce, Patricia and James (Brad). Brad married Virginia Ann (Dewey) Vatterott in St. Louis in 1970. They had met at St. Mary’s College, Notre Dame, Indiana. Brad also went to medical school at the University of Iowa, graduating in 1973. He has a practice in Centerville with a specialty in famiy practice. Dewey graduated from the physician assistant program at Iowa and has her own practice in the same office complex. Dewey and Brad have five children. Brad is a dedicated history buff with a specialty of Civil War history.

Mansion with Stone-Campbell pedigree

Another of Ottumwa’s landmark homes, the William T. Harper house at 908 N. Court Ave, is on the market --- priced at $85,000, which seems a bargain-basement price. Providing the buyer has a few hundreds of thousands handy to invest in restoration.

For as long as I’ve been driving by, this has been the headquarters of an outfit called the Midwestern School of Evangelism and institutional use has not been cosmetically kind to the interior of the structure. The Realtor photos seem to have been taken on a bad day, when owners and photographer decided to make the interior as unattractive as possible.

According to brief mention on a city of Ottumwa Web site about the Court Avenue Historic District, the home was built in the 1880s, at a time when Court was the place to show off in Ottumwa.

Although white paint now covers everything, the construction was of deep red brick with cast hood molds above doors and windows and limestone trim. The paint could not be removed without endangering the brick, but it remains an attractive building.

The style is Italianate, but the neoclassical front porch is not original. Although its sparse brackets mirror those below the eaves, it probably replaced the original porches during a general overhaul early in the 20th century. The woodwork appears to be original, but other details suggest an effort to modernize. The chimney pieces are uncharacteristically plain, of pieced marble that probably replaced substantially more ornate mantles, and a panel of stained glass at the top of the south bay window seems to be arts and crafts.

The builder was William T. Harper, who arrived in the Ottumwa area in 1853, when he was 20, and prospered in various entrepreneurial pursuits, including drug wholesaling. He died in this house on Oct. 5, 1900. His widow, Mary E. Knight Harper, survived until 1930. Both are buried in the Ottumwa City Cemetery, a couple of blocks north.

I have no idea when the evangelism school moved in, but it, too, is a part of Ottumwa’s history, an outgrowth of one branch of what sometimes is called the Stone-Campbell Restoration Movement, which began on the American frontier during the early 19th century. Arising independently in several places, the goal of the coalescing movement was to recreate the Christian church according to what its organizers perceived to be an exclusively New Testament pattern.

Early leaders included, in Kentucky, Barton W. Stone, and in western Pennsylvania and (West) Virginia, Thomas Campbell and his son, Andrew.

By the early 20th century, the restorationists had informally divided in part in response to what was perceived of as the dangerous liberality of what now is the Christian (Disciples of Christ) denomination, with linked congregations and denominational infrastructure. That odd combination of names developed because leaders could not agree to call the denomination either “Christian” or “Disciples of Christ,” so kept both names --- a decision that can confuse non-Disciples.

The larger balance has by now divided more or less into two threads with similar theologies and structure --- autonomous congregations without formal links or denominational infrastructure toward the right or extreme right theologically and socially. They differ primarily on whether or not musical instruments are appropriate in a church based on a New Testament model.

The Independent Christian Churches/Churches of Christ are sometimes modified by the term “instrumental” and the Churches of Christ, by the term “a cappella.”

Anyhow, the Midwestern School of Evangelism was an outgrowth of what became known as Independent Chriistian Churches/Churches of Christ.

According to the “Encyclopedia of the Stone-Campbell Movement,” the school was founded by three young students from Ozark Bible College, Donald G. Hunt, Burton W. Barber and James R. McMorrow, who were heavily influenced by the Oregon-based ministry of Archie Word. Sometimes called the Ottumwa Brethren, the three began publishing the “Voice of Evangelism” in 1946 and founded the Midwestern School of Evangelism in Ottumwa in 1947.

Their brand of Christianity was sometimes called a holiness movement because of its preoccupation with the evils of perceived worldliness --- movies, television, smoking, drinking and the like --- and unwillingness to fellowship with those outside its circle.

The Ottumwa school flourished for many years, matriculating hundreds of students. The Brethren’s influence spread to an estimated 650 churches primarily in Iowa, Missouri and in the West Coast and involved a network of nearly that many preachers.

As the founders died, however, zeal diminished and the rather plain and plain-spoken restorationists had difficulty adapting to the current technobabel tower of megawhatever evangelical Christianity.

The Ottumwa school suspended classes during 2007 and retreated online. It continues to publish the “Voice of Evangelism” and other materials, but apparently no longer needs a large and drafty mansion for its headquarters.