Around the square: Part 1

This is the last week of Chariton's Main Street Iowa application process --- a very busy time for many people. There seems to be no reason now why the application will not be submitted by deadline; how it will fare in the new year remains to be seen --- but it's been an amazing effort.

My job today is to come up with 25 photos (on CD) taken in the proposed Main Street District (the eight contiuguous blocks surrounding the courthouse plus appended block portions containing First United Methodist Church, First Presbyterian Church and the American Legion building).

So in order to avoid taxing my brain by thinking about anything else, I thought we'd start a little tour of the proposed district featuring some of those photos. Main Street 's goal is economic development within the context of historic preservation, so everything here is of historic relevance to the district, architecturally significant or a contributing "amenity."

1. Northside commercial suite (at the top), intersection of Braden Avenue and North Grand Street. These three buildings, Ben Franklin (historically, Blake), I.O.O.F. (known by many of us as the old Spurgeons) and Piper's, were built between 1888 (Piper's) and 1900, replacing wooden structures. They're significant becamse they basically look as they always have (Piper's has been restored) other than replacement windows and function as they always have --- contiguous retail operations.

2. Hotel Charitone, intersection of Braden Avenue and North Grand Street. Built during 1923 as one of Iowa's first "fireproof" hotels, this poor old thing is on the National Register of Historic Places because of its design, its prominence on the square and the fact it's part of a suite of classic buildings designed by Chariton architect William Perkins. Although structurally sound and a candidate for redevelopment, it has a number of challenges, several obvious, others (including the roof and absentee ownership), not.

3. Chariton Newspapers building, east of the Charitone on Braden. Also on the National Register, in large part because it, too, was designed by William Perkins, it remains sound although the exterior needs to be refreshed.

4. Chariton Free Public Library, built during 1904 at the intersection of Braden and North 8th, also is on the National Register of Historic Places. It was the first Carnegie library built according to what became known as the "Chariton Plan," so there are similar-looking libraries all over the place. Although not evident here, a sympathetic extension to the north, utilizing the same design and materials, has more than doubled its size.

5. First Presbyterian Church, built during 1909, also at the intersection of Braden and North 8th, is one of Chariton's three grandest vintage church buildings (First United Methodist and Sacred Heart Catholic are the others). It is built of brick with pressed cement block (pretending to be stone) veneering over a limestone foundation and appears largely intact, although it has lost the dome that once crowned it. The beautiful stained glass dome liner, however, remains an interior feature.

6. Constitution Park (aka the birthplace of Frank D. Myers as well as a huge number of other native Lucas Countyans), also at the intersection of Braden and North 8th. This small nicely landscpaed park was developed on the site of Yocom Hospital which, until construction of the first part of the current Lucas County Health Center during the 1960s, was Lucas County's only hospital, operated privately by the Yocom family.

7. Gibbon Drug Store building, back on the square at the intersection of Braden Avenue and North Grand Street. Built during 1879 by Dr. William H. Gibbon, this is the oldest remaining building on the east side of the square. Built as a single-front building, the north half of the Mallory & Law Block immediately to the south has been appended to it and because of their similar facades gives it the appearance of a double-front building. Both the Gibbon building and Mallory & Law once had impressive cast metal cornices. And yes, that light pole is leaning in an alarming manner, which seems an absurd thing not to deal with.

8. Eikenberry-Crozier building. intersection of Court Avenue and North Grand Street. Built in 1894 by the Daniel Eikenberry estate for, among others, the J.T. Crozier mercantile firm, this is the best brick example of the the Richardson romanesque style on the square. It remains largely intact and structurally sound, although the windows obviously are not correct and the post-and-shingle arcade in front is out of character, too.

9. Built during 1917 to a restrained classical revival plan, the Chariton Post Office at the intersection of South Grand Street and Linden Avenue is virtually intact and well maintained. The lobby has not been altered either, so a ghost from 1920 who stepped inside would have no trouble recognizing familiar territory. It's looked a little lonely and barren since the big tree to the north came down a couple of years ago. It's never clear to me why trees are not replaced when they come down.

That's it for this morning.

The one-liner art of Barney Frank

Golly, I’m going to miss Barney Frank, who announced Monday that he would retire at the end of his current term in 2013 after represesenting Massachusetts’s 4th District in the U.S. House of Representatives since 1981.

Frank, described in the title of a 2009 biography as “America’s only gay, left-handed, Jewish congressman,” was consistently liberal, smart and feisty --- and darned good at one-liners, too. In politics, notably on civil rights issues, he was the perfect progressive storm.

Upon learning of his impending retirement, the Tennessee Tea Party tweeted, “Good riddance you perverted sodomite POS (piece of shit)!!” --- golly, again. But that’s the sort of statement Frank was good at deflecting with wit rather than in kind.

When Dick Armey, at the time Republican House majority leader, referred in 1995 to Frank as “Barney Fag,” then dismissed it as a mere slip of the tongue, the Massachusetts congressman responded, "I turned to my own expert, my mother, who reports that in 59 years of marriage, no one ever introduced her as Elsie Fag."

Hilary Rosen cited a few of her favorite Barney quips in a Monday Huffington Post column:

"Gay people have a different role than other minority groups... Very few black kids have ever had to worry about telling their parents that they were black"

"They're (congressional opponents) saying that my ability to marry another man somehow jeopardizes heterosexual marriage. Then they go out and cheat on their wives."

"The problem with the war in Iraq is not so much the intelligence as the stupidity."

"On what planet do you spend most of your time?" (in response to a critic at a recent healthcare town hall meeting who had declared “Obamacare” to be “Nazi”). He then went on to suggest that continuing their discussion would be as useful as trying to carry on a conversation with a dining room table.

Here’s a clip from taken from Monday’s press conference as Frank discussed the impact of his 1987 coming out:



Frank also had a few choice words Monday for Newt Gingrich, who picked up a major endorsement in New Hampshire over the weekend.

“I did not think I lived a good enough life to see Newt Gingrich as the Republican nominee,” Frank said. “He would be the best thing to happen to Democrats since Barry Goldwater ... It’s still unlikely, but I have hopes.”

The Frank-Gingrich feud goes back a long way. Frank previously has described Gingrich as, “a man with no ethical core whatsoever” and “the thinnest-skinned character assassin I’ve ever met.”

Maybe most appropriate for today, however, may be a line related to Frank’s assertion that he was unable to finish reviewing the Starr Report, detailing Bill Clinton’s relationship with Monica Lewinsky, because it involved “too much reading about heterosexual sex.”

And here we go again with all that as allegations emerge about a 13-year extra-marital relationship involving Herman Cain, once the darling of Iowa’s increasingly irrelevant Christianist Republican Party.

Cain seems to be acknowledging the accuracy of the allegations, or at least that’s what a statement from his lawyer suggests, building on the fact new revelations involve neither alleged harassment or assault.

“No individual, whether a private citizen, a candidate for public office or a public official, should be questioned about his or her private sexual life,” according to the Cain camp.

Famous last words? This philosophy worked fairly well for one notable Democrat adulterer, Bill Clinton, but not especially well for another, pretty boy John Edwards.

Iowa Republicans seem prepared to forgive Newt Gingrich for his serial adulteries, citing a precedent set by Jesus. It’s not clear that falling to his knees will work quite so well for Cain this time.

Remembrance of things past

An iconic representation of Harvey Milk

I wonder how many engaged in a round of “do-you-remember-where-you-were-when …?” last Tuesday, the 48th anniversary of the assassination of President John F. Kennedy.

I was a couple of months into my senior year of high school at Russell that Friday afternoon when teachers and administrators moved from classroom to classroom, telling students what had happened before we were sent off on subdued bus rides home.

That was another world --- there were no television sets to gather round; I don’t remember a TV in the school building, although there surely must have been.

But the images that have stuck with me played out on a big black and white screen in the living room at home over the weekend and through the state funeral the following Monday.

There were fewer talking heads in those days; television personalities didn’t feel obligated to intrude via persistent voice-overs, trivializing the obvious. The images spoke for themselves. And at night, when the talking was done, the networks broadcast images of the White House lighted against the night-time sky as classical music played in the background.

Imagine something so eloquent happening today.

+++

I doubt anyone would compare Mitt Romney to JFK --- the latter had more charisma in his left index fingernail than the former Massachusetts governor has in his entire shape-shifting chameleonesque persona.

But every time some damnfool Baptist down in Texas (or anyone of any other denomination elsewhere) declares that Romney, a Mormon, isn’t really a “Christian,” it’s tempting to think of Kennedy, of whom similar usual suspects said the same thing --- because he was Roman Catholic.

+++

Sunday was the 23rd anniversary of other assassinations --- those of San Francisco Supervisor Harvey Milk and Mayor George Moscone by ex-supervisor Dan White at City Hall there by the Bay during 1978.

Milk, who since has assumed an iconic status in the LGBT community that is illustrated by the image up top, became in 1977 the first gay man honest about his orientation elected to public office in California.



He was, among many other accomplishments, a leader in the drive to defeat in 1978 what is known as the Briggs Initiative, that would have made mandatory in California the firing of gay teachers and perhaps any other district employees who advocated for gay rights.

His assassin was convicted of voluntary manslaughter rather than murder and eventually released from prison after five years after attorneys told sympathetic jurors that depression had diminished his capacity to kill with premeditation. The inescapable implication was that the deaths of a gay man and a straight ally were somehow not overly important.

The aftermath galvanized LGBT communities, becoming one of the foundation stones beneath the continuing drive for LGBT equality, opposed then as now for the most part by alleged Christians. The more things change …
  

+++

On a more positive note, Lessons & Carols last evening was lovely, a wonderful candle-lit way to begin the season of Advent and point toward Christmas.

I wish you could have heard Kathy’s cello, backed quietly by Samuel on organ, as it filled St. Andrew’s during “In the Bleak Midwinter” and “Lo, How a Rose e’re Blooming.”

Our little church has excellent acoustics, which makes it a good building to sing carols in, both quiet and triumphant. I think everyone there was moved by the music, the prayers and the spoken lessons, tracking a Christian view of humanity in scripture from the fall through the great mystery of the Incarnation.

And those who stayed after for cider, cookies and conversation were generous --- so the Ministry Center food bank benefitted, too.

From the Latin "adventus," or "coming"

Advent wreath (image "borrowed" online)

One of the tasks of the week past was to change the frontal on the altar at church from the green of “ordinary time,” in place since Pentecost, to the purple of penance --- and of an extraordinary time called Advent.

A job best handled by two people, this involves manipulating an eight-foot lead bar that holds heavy strips of embroidered brocade and fringe in place, slipping it out of the long pocket of one (without poking through nearby stained glass), then into the pocket of another, all the while balancing on slippery marble steps.

We also removed the paschal candle from its big turned holder and replaced it with the oak wheel that supports an Advent wreath --- pine branches around four smaller candles to be lighted, one per Sunday, during the season, and one large Christ candle, to be lighted on Christmas Eve.

All this is purely symbolic, of course, but full of attributed meaning --- among the ways to mark the completion of one cycle of a church year and the beginning of another. So let me be among the first to wish you a happy new church year on this the first Sunday in Advent.

+++

I’ve been waiting for the first “let’s put Christ back in Christmas” of the season, followed up by heart-felt condemnation of the hapless clerk who wishes customers “happy holidays!” instead of something more religious. We know it’s coming from the discontented, who feel as if they’re losing control, or from the scroogish.

The secret here is that Advent can be an antidote to some of that discontent, although it is a tradition lost to many protestants whose forebears, in their zeal to cleanse the church of frills, threw this baby and others over the fence with the bath water.

Fair warning, however, Avent is low-key, without much glitz, and unlikely to boost the economy.

On the one hand, it’s time of expectant waiting in preparation for telling again the story of the Christian tradition’s first coming --- when Creator, omnipotent, omniscient, aloof, cranky, prone to smiting, unexpectedly put on creation and jumped feet-first into it in the unlikely form of an infant who, as he grew, distilled cosmic demands into only one --- love, of God and of one other.

But it also is a time of penance and introspection, looking toward the great inconvenience of a second coming and a promised judgment, perhaps based on how well we’ve done in fulfilling commandments given after the first. How unfair.

+++

Those familiar with the mysteries of the Revised Common Lectionary also will know that the new year now dawning is “Year B,” an arbitrary designation that prescribes Mark 13:24-37 as the Gospel lesson of the day.

This passage is all about that second coming, but as with much of scripture, is open to various interpretations including (but not limited to) theories that the coming already has been accomplished, that we’re living it incrementally and, among the “left behind” crowd, that the elect soon will lift off bodily to glory, thumbing their noses at everyone who miscalculated.

The concluding admonition, however, applies to all:

But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come. It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his slaves in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to be on the watch. Therefore, keep awake --- for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly. And what I say to you I say to all: “Keep awake.”

+++

Considering the record, a second coming more perceptible than the first seems unlikely; and those anticipating what humans imagine a cosmic event to be probably will be as disappointed as those first anticipators of a Messiah were when rather than God-the-destroyer that man of peace and love and sorrows was revealed.

In all likelihood, we’re going to have to keep working at this until we work it out.

Which is why the urgency of the warning to “stay awake” or “keep watch” --- and by implication to work --- is important.

How many times have we all said lately, “these are troubled times,” then overlooked the obvious --- that the solutions to all those troubles were distilled long ago into that pesky commandment to love God and one another, then to behave as if we really do.

There’s an Advent thought for you. And by the way, if someone wishes you a “happy holiday” this year --- just smile and say “and Merry Christmas to you” in return.

+++

We'll be getting together at 4:30 this afternoon at St. Andrew's with our friends from First Lutheran to present an Advent Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols. All are welcome!

Get-together on the square

Awaiting the big parade on the northeast corner of the square.

OK, here are a few of my favorite things about Chariton’s official launch of the Christmas season, which occurs annually on the square the evening of the Friday that follows Thanksgiving.

The lighted parade, of course. But no parade pictures, sorry. If any photos I take at night anywhere of anything actually turn out, it’s an accident. It was a good parade, however. We all enjoyed it.

It’s dark. The square in Chariton at Christmas is lit up like a Christmas tree --- not a Wal-Mart parking lot. Outside the pools of light created by storefronts, streetlights and Christmas lights, it’s really dark.

It’s safe. Despite the darkness, I didn’t meet anyone (and there were a couple of thousand of us wandering around) who seemed to be feeling angry, anxious or threatened. When kids vanished, there was occasional consternation but no frenzy. They just reappeared.

It’s quiet, except for the sound of people talking to each other. No holiday songs blaring to enhance the “mood.” But the sound of hundreds of people talking to each other in a conversation that stretches around the square is amazing, if you listen.

Piper's owner Jill fills a candy order.

Stuff-the-store at Piper’s. This always happens. The trick is to squeeze as many people as will barely fit into this narrow old store for popcorn, cider, candy --- and just to look.

The variety --- of people. Everybody comes --- rich (we have some of those) and poor (more of those) and in the middle, old (90s) and young (weeks), skinny and not so skinny, overalls and cowboy hats to L.L. Bean. A smorgasbord for people-watchers.

Ben Franklin manager Sam visits with Shantel, our Chamber director.

Ben Franklin. The Pepping to Felderman transition is a genuine cause for rejoicing on the square, for the sellers, the buyers and ourselves.

The sense of community. Golly, we should get together like this more often.

Buy Everything Locally Day

If you're fond of Occupy Wall Street, you should know that this is "Buy Nothing Day," another project of the Adbusters Media Foundation, those subversive anti-consumerists who cause red-blooded Republicans with elevated blood pressure to stand on street corners screech things like, "take a bath," "get a job," "get a haircut" and "if you don't like it here, move to Russia."

Oh wait a minute, I'm having flashbacks. The haircut and move-to-Russia bits were from the 1960s.

Anyhow, in observance of Black Friday, Adbusters proposes that we buy nothing today.

Now that's fine if you live in Des Moines, say, but just not a useful approach if you live in small-town Iowa, value it and want to keep it. So I've declared this "Buy Everything Locally Day." If I'd gotten up at 3:30 rather than 4:30, I'd have done a logo. If you live in Des Moines, the ultimate anti-consumerist protest would be to drive down and buy something here.

The problem in Chariton and other towns its size or somewhat smaller, somewhat larger,  is not over-consumption, it's folks who pile into their pickups and vans and drive to Jordan Creek or the nearest Wal-Mart to spend all their money.

Those who whine "but I just can't find anything here" just haven't looked, for the most part.

 Personally, if I really can't find something here, and I am excessively fond of Amish Wedding brand sweet garlic dill pickles, I know where to look. Humeston, Corydon, Centerville, Albia, Oskaloosa --- even Cantril --- any number of places that are picturesque, easy to navigate, and REALLY appreciate consumer dollars.

The bonus in Chariton today begins on the square at 6 p.m. The Christmas parade starts at 7 p.m. There also will be open houses, visits from Santa and all sorts of other stuff.

+++

Since as Emerson told us, foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, I should add that after carping yesterday morning about overlooked aspects of Thanksgiving, I drove down to Kim's and Lynn's house near Centerville and ate for roughly two and a half hours, hiking around the house to settle things down and make room for dessert.

There were 13 of us, I believe, and the menu included (but was not limited to) ham, turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes and gravy, green bean casserole, macaroni and cheese, candied sweet potatoes with lots of marshmallows, escalloped corn, creamed onions, sausage balls, homemade cranberry relish, cranberry sauce from a can (with ridges), rolls, deviled eggs, various relishes, Jello salad with Cool Whip and marshmallows, pumpkin pie, pecan pie, apple pie and rum balls.

I would have stayed longer and perhaps eaten more, but it got to be late afternoon and we were still seated around the dining room table (actually two dining room tables placed end to end) unable to move when we got to telling stories about critters we'd hit with our vehicles while driving back roads after dark --- deer, cattle, a flock of sheep, even (in Germany) wild boars.

That's when it occurred to me it was a considerable distance home, over the river and through the woods, and it was going to be dark soon. So I came home, took a generous dose of antacid and went to bed, overconsumed and still not anixous to see another meal.

Come ye thankful people, come ...

Maybe it would be best just to eat turkey and shut up, but I have issues with Thanksgiving. The holiday, aka the gateway to Black Friday, that is, not the practice in general. So I got up a little cranky this morning --- sorry.

Thanksgiving back in the day was splattered with happy-Pilgrim-happy-Indian imagery --- everyone brings a 1621-style covered dish and sits down to eat companionably around the campfire, one big happy multi-cultural family.

As it turned out, that was a premise with a factual base about as firm as the one under Santa Claus. Pilgrims were a narrow and intolerant lot, much like we are today only moreso. And native Americans certainly have no reason to be thankful today for much of anything delivered by EuroAmerican intruders --- disease, death, intolerance and destruction. We got everything else out of the deal, including the corn.

It used to be easier, in Iowa, to appreciate the harvest festival origins of the holiday. Most of us do our harvesting these days in the aisles at Hy-Vee, however; and it's a challenge, unless you happen to own  acres of prime cropland, to be grateful for $7 corn when the prices of what you buy there are considered. Forty percent of the crop will go to fuel vehicles rather than people, after all.

+++

The Rev. Linda's sermon theme at this year's community Thanksgiving service Tuesday night was "Thanksliving." Get it? Living thankfully. Lots of food for thought there.

The Rev Allen, in charge of pre-offering motivation, turned the two parts of the word "Thanksgiving" in a slightly different, although related, direction --- giving thankfully. Food for thought there, too. The proceeds went to the Interchurch Council's crisis center and food bank.

Neither theme had much to do with the conventional Thanksgiving thought --- that it's mostly about saying "thanks" to the big guy for what we've got, perhaps with a notion in the back of our heads that we'll get more if we do so. And by implication, that we need do this only once a year when gathered around a table full of more food than any assembled group possibly could eat.

Even the postcard here, recycled from last year and sent originally to my grandmother during 1915, seems to be preaching a little: "Who brings sunshine into the life of thers has sunshine in his own."

+++

I've been working this week on the script for an Advent service Sunday that will include a bidding prayer spoken seasonally every year since 1918 at King's College, Cambridge. That speaks, too, to what "Thanksgiving" probably should be all about: 

"And because this of all things would rejoice His heart, let us at this time remember in His name the poor and the helpless, the cold, the hungry and the oppressed; the sick in body and in mind and them that mourn; the lonely and the unloved; the aged and the little children ...."

The varied career of a tiny synagogue

The death Tuesday in Iowa City of Himie Voxman (left) at age 99 reminded me of a couple of things. Student days, of course, because Voxman was in his prime as director of the School of Music when I was a University of Iowa student during the 1960s (he served in that capacity from 1954-1980) and I had friends who studied under him.

But also of this little building in Centerville, our neighbor to the southeast, which originally was the home of Congregation B'nai Israel and the synagogue Voxman attended as a child.  I took these unremarkable photos several years ago, then lost them among the thousands of digital impages floating around here. Yesterday, I finally managed to find them again.

Voxman is one of at least two remarkable musicians Centerville has produced. Simon Estes, operatic bass-baritone, is better known generally. He, along with Leontyne Price and others, shattered the race barrier at New York's Metropolitan Opera and elsewhere and continues to perform and teach widely in Iowa and beyond.

But Voxman, in his field as internationally-renowned music educator and authority in the field of woodwind instruments, was a star, too. Both Estes and Voxman are products of the University of Iowa. The Voxman Music Building, destroyed in 2008 fooding along with Hancher Auditorium and Clapp Recital Hall, was named in the Centerville native's honor.

Anyhow, this little building in Centerville has had quite a varied career, too --- and remains very much alive.

Congregation B'nai Israel was organized in Centerville during 1892 by a Jewish community composed largely of families that had emigrated from Russia. The building was constructed during 1894 --- obviously without the cross. The primary reminders of its origin are the stained glass windows, which then as now, are centered upon the Star, or Shield, of David.

The Voxman family, Morris, Mollie and their older children, arrived from Russia during 1910 and Himie was born there during 1912, three months before the death of his father, who is buried in Centerville's tiny Hebrew Cemetery. He learned to play the clarinet in high school, but set off to the University of Iowa to study science (his 1933 bachelor's degree was in chemical engineering). Voxman helped pay his way through college by giving clarinet lessons, however, was eventually channeled into music and joined the University's music faculty during 1939.

Back in Centerville, Congregation B'nai Israel remained active until well after the mid-20th century, but declined as older members died and their children moved away. It eventually closed and those who remained for the most part transferred their affiliation to Congregation B'nai Jacob in Ottumwa.

The building then was sold to the Episcopal Church of the Epiphany, which added the cross, remodeled the interior to suit its liturgical needs and dug the basement. During the first decade of the 21st century, however, that parish experienced the same difficulties B'nai Israel had --- and closed. When I last drove by the little building it was occupied by a small congregation of a protestant variety I didn't recognize.

My guess would be, however, that this little frame building has served a broader range of religious communities than perhaps any other in southern Iowa.

Main Street; red and yellow paint

It's been an amazing week so far in the Main Street Iowa application process, which has kind of consumed the lives of a whole bunch of amazing people in Chariton this fall. The complex and detailed nature of the application is an indicator of just how good the program is, but last week we hit the wall when it turned out that a part of the process that had seemed simple for months was exceedingly complex, perhaps too complex to deal with as the application deadline neared.

I wasn't the only one who thought there for a day or so we were going to have to hang it up and use what's been done as the foundation for another application during the next competitive round.

Then one of the quieter subversives involved in this modest revolution just reminded everyone that "they told us we were going to hit the wall at some point" and asked, "so what's the big deal?" After that, the right people stepped up to do the right thing and the application leaped at least three tall buildings Monday in single bounds.

There are more buildings to jump over in the next two weeks, but the process is still on track --- and that's something else to be grateful for as Thanksgiving nears.

There's no guarantee that Chariton's application will be accepted this year, keep in mind, since admission to Main Street Iowa is highly competitive and there's still a huge amount to do. But we're learning a lot in the application process and are prepared to keep working, I think, until successful.

One thing we've learned by going out and talking to all sorts of people is just how supportive most Lucas Countyans are of efforts to move the place we love forward. That's the important thing.

+++

Speaking of Main Street, I'm wishing now that I had taken a decent photo of the red and yellow paint job applied earlier this fall to the west-side building, built in 1904 by D.Q. Storie, that houses our Mexican restaurant. The photo up top of the Civil War monument is there because if you enlarge it to "original size" you can barely see the bright facade through the trees in the distance.

I'm cranky about the paint job for a couple of reasons related to preservation. First, it's a mistake to paint a brick and/or stone surface that is in good shape because, once painted, it's very difficult to go back. Sandblasting, especially when old brick is involved, can do more harm than good because it removes the fired-on surface of a brick and allows elements to enter the softer core.

And then the west side procession of Lockwood, Storie, Oppenheimer and Hollinger & Larimer buildings, all built simultaneously after the great January 1904 fire that destroyed the Mallory Opera Block and adjacent structures, formed a remarkable suite of intact commercial buildings reflecting trends and preferences at the turn of the 20th century. The paint job changed that.

But as Granny used to say, there's no point in crying over spilled milk. Some hate the new paint; others like it. It's bright, it's cheerful and it was a good marketing tactic. There's no doubt now about where that restaurant is located. But it's still a good idea to raise consciousness about historic structures in an effort to ensure that changes are made thoughtfully and respectfully. That's something we're not very good at --- yet.

That paint job also has become an interesting part of the story the town square has to tell if you look around carefully, ask a few questions and think about it for a while.

The post and shingle arcades that front several buildings --- another story --- are criticized now and then (by me, too) because they look outdated and obscure original street-level facades. But they were built for a reason and reflect tastes and trends of a not-too-distant era. Plus they offer appreciated shelter. That doesn't mean they shouldn't be replaced at some point with something more in character with the facades they front, however, just that the reasoning behind what's there needs to be understood when considering something different.

And there are other stories. The cast metal cornices that once crowned many buildings on the square were removed and many other modifications made to facades because they seemed old-fashioned during the middle of the 20th century. Now, the revised facades look dated and we wish the originals had been left alone.

The squat blond-brick bank building that replaced the wonderful Union Block on the northwest corner of the square reflects one man's 1970s view of a progressive county seat business district. I want the Union Block back, but that's not practical. So what's there has to be allowed to tell its story just as it is.

And so it goes. None of this represents an argument that buildings should not be restored as nearly as possible to their original condition, or that streetscapes should not be redesigned, because they should. It's just that part of the process involves allowing buildings to tell their stories --- and listening as they do.

The relative merits of poverty

One thing I've not done this fall is walk down the Cinder Path a mile or two and stop at a favorite place to just look --- through an old gateway under arching oak limbs into a savanna-like field that rises toward more oaks on a small hill.

These are some of the oaks along that field's fence line, lifted from a file of photos shot a year ago. I've just been too busy, or so I've thought, this year; and then there's that knee --- still aching sometimes after ill-advised trail-side acrobatics several weeks ago.

This relatively wild place came to mind yesterday while reading a Register article about the rapid inflation of Iowa farm land prices resulting from a combination of high commodity prices ($7 corn) and an otherwise stagnant economy that makes land seem like the best investment around.

Some of the prices cited in the article seem outlandish --- from $10,050 per acre for a 225-acre Jasper County tract to a record high earlier this fall of $16,750 per acre way up and over there in Sioux County. This is farm land, keep in mind, not land with the potential to pave and develop into strip malls, subdivisions and parking lots.

Naturally, old-time farmers and many others are worried that the land market will collapse --- and it probably will. Periodic crashes always have been responsible for rapid shifts in the nature of Iowa life. According to some estimates, the great depression of the 1930s cost Iowa half of its farms; the crisis of the 1980s, another third. And there was a good deal of talk about that in the Register article.

This is not Lucas County land, however, which averages out as far less suitable for intensive cropping --- although there are those who row-crop the hell out of it anyway, relying on chemicals to provide life-support to the soil they're degrading. But trends elsewhere pull land prices up here, too, even in a region of the state sometimes considered to be "poor."

One thing not mentioned in the Register article was the chilling effect of inflated land prices on acquisition of private land for public use and on sustainable, or natural (translated as chemical-free) conservation practices. Even no-till farming, adopted by many as a way to prevent erosion, generally requires generous application of herbicides whose long-term impact, despite reassurance from Iowa State University experts and others, just isn't known.

There have been benefits, perhaps underappreciated, of Lucas County's perceived status for many years as kind of "impoverished" --- in part because our soils are not as "productive" as those in other regions of the state. We do have thousands of acres of public land, for example --- state forests, county conservation areas, the Chariton River greenbelt.

Chariton is kind of unique, although we probably don't think about it often enough, because of the ease of access from it to public land --- Red Haw State Park to the southeast, the Greenbelt to the south, the Cinder Path, leading 13 miles out of town to the southwest. All are underutilized, which actually increases their value for those of us who do utilize them --- I know that sounds selfish.

Another trend around here that I like --- although I'm in danger of being haunted when I mention it because it's a trend my dad hated --- is the purchase of land by urban "outsiders," however you define them (for better or worse, if your home base is or has been Des Moines, even Chariton sometimes, some will consider you an outsider in the country), who buy land not to exploit agriculturally but primarily to look at, or for the view, to hunt on, to hobby-farm or to experiment with --- any number of non-traditional purposes, agricultural and otherwise.

All of these are aspects of our perceived poverty that probably could be turned around and used to regional advantage --- if we really focused on them, something else I've been thinking about this fall as we move through the Main Street application process for Chariton.

+++

Decatur County, just down the road southwest of here, is another southern Iowa county sometimes perceived elsewhere in the state as a little backward. But interesting things happen there, one of which is reflected in another of my favorite blogs.

This is William and Sibylla Brown's Timberhill Oak Savanna site, which details their restoration efforts since 1993 on 200 acres of mixed timber, savanna and prairie near Leon.

When I first found the site, I read it like a book --- easily done since posts to the blog part of it are regular but not excessive --- and now look forward to new posts. It's an interesting account of the pioneering work the Browns did as part of the ongoing restoration of a rare oak savanna. I keep wondering if there are similar sites in Lucas County.

Dispatches from the Holy War: 11/20

Giotto di Bondone: "Expulsion of the Money-changers from the Temple."

It’s been kind of quiet out here in the cornfields lately, but the money changers --- make that politicians --- were back in the temple last night, reportedly baring their souls whilst in last-supper-like formation and getting all misty-eyed during a Family Leader-sponsored forum at First Federated Church in Des Moines.

The theme of the decorations was Thanksgiving, but it would be just too cheap a shot to argue that the turkeys were seated around the table --- Bachmann, Santorum, Gingrich, Perry, Cain and Paul. Gov. Terry Branstad and U.S. Sen. Chuck Grassley were among the faithful in the pews.

The inevitable Mitt Romney had declined to participate, but what the hey --- everybody there knew that old Mormon boy wasn't a Christian anyway.

Earlier in the week, Bob Vander Plaats, leader of The Family Leader, formally absolved Gingrich of his various sins --- adultery and the like --- during an appearance on MSNBC. Now Jesus can, too.

Saturday night, Rick Perry acknowledged he was “almost overwhelmed” at the thought of being president. Golly, if he’s overwhelmed, think how the rest of us feel.

Perry apparently is willing to rely on prayer to fill the gaps in his intellectual resume, but it seems unlikely most Republicans are willing to make that leap of faith if poll results are any indication.

Nothing new emerged so far as an economic agenda is concerned --- cut business taxes, end business regulations and squeeze the last drop of oil out of the last flake of shale. Same old stuff.

What would Jesus do?

“And he went into the temple, and began to cast out them that sold therein, and them that bought; saying unto them, It is written, My house is the house of prayer: but ye have made it a den of thieves.” (Luke 19:45-46)

+++

Also last week, Iowa Senate Majority Leader Mike Gronstal (D-Council Bluffs) repeated his intention during an “Iowa Press” appearance to block a proposed amendment to the Iowa Constitution that would ban same-sex marriage. A recent special election allowed Democrats to retain their slim majority in the Senate, meaning Gronstal probably can fulfill his promise.

“People’s rights should not be put to a popular vote,” Gronstal said. “We didn’t put slavery to a vote of the people. We didn’t put the right to go to a school in your neighborhood to a vote of the people of Iowa.”

None-the-less, new Senate Minority Leader Jerry Behn, of Boone, pledged to bring the issue forward again when the current session resumes Jan. 9. Nice to know we have something to look forward to after Christmas.

+++

Also in Iowa last week, Victoria Childress, owner of Victoria’s Cake Cottage in Des Moines, drew a certain amount of attention by declining to bake a wedding cake for Trina Vodraska and Janelle Sievers, who plan to marry.

Childress alleges that she is a Christian and, because of that, can’t cook for lesbians. KCCI-TV, which really is Iowa’s news leader sometimes, reported the story first.

Vodraska and Sievers apparently do not intend to pursue a civil rights complaint against Childress, which they certainly could do. There is no religious exemption for businesses built into Iowa civil rights legislation, which forbids public accommodations discrimination based on, among other things, sexual orientation. Business is a public accommodation.

So if push comes to shove and you’re in business, you’ve really got to serve all those less desirable types who walk through the door --- gay people, black people, the stray Hispanic, even Baptists. I know that’s harsh and it seems unfair --- I mean, Jesus might send you to hell if you bake a cake with two brides or two grooms atop it. But that’s the way it is.

+++

Finally, I was interested in an Associated Press interview with U.S. Army Capt. Stephen Hill, who drew jeers from a Republican crowd and a rebuke from Rick Santorum when he asked via YouTube during a September candidate debate about GOP plans in the aftermath of the demise of Don’t Ask Don’t Tell.

Here’s the part of the interview that I thought was especially interesting, since it speaks volumes about military response:

Hill says the fact that he just outed himself on national television had barely registered when he absorbed the boos and Santorum's answer followed by applause.

"When the actual booing occurred, my gut dropped out, because my first inclination was, did I just do something wrong?" he said. "The answer, obviously, wasn't very supportive of gay people, and there was a lot of fear of how the Army would take the question."

He did not have to wait long to find out. At breakfast later that morning, the segment was playing on the chow hall television. Hill immediately tracked down his commander, who told him she had no problem with what he'd done but that she would need to run it up the chain of command. She later relayed the response.

"She said, 'What the military's most concerned with is that you are OK, because it's a lot of pressure on you and we want to make sure if there is anything we can do to help,'" he recalled.

You can read the rest of The Associated Press story here. The question and Santorum’s response follows:

Now and then and incarnation

At some point this fall, swamp milkweed pods that had dried to precise degrees burst, releasing tiny seeds suspended from silk sails to fly away on the wind. Now in November, this is what's left, most evident near wetlands, relics of summer so delicately poised that they seem ready to take flight themselves.

Looking back to late August, when milkweed was in full bloom, there was little hint in lavish displays of pink and green --- especially popular among Monarch butterflies --- that such spare and delicate and sculptural shapes would emerge.

September's greatest show was provided by sunflowers in lavish bloom along roadsides and trails. This is what's left now --- and the fact I struggle differentiating Maximilian (Helianthus maximilianii) from Sawtooth (Helianthus grosseserratus) hardly seems important.

Who would guess the seeds of all this showy gold were contained in these shapely, but uncompromisingly stark, containers. 

Is it any wonder that we struggle to name Eupatorium serotinum when the "common" nicknames are lateflowering thoroughwort (or boneset)? These pillows of asterish white are among the most common roadside flowers as fall winds down.

Few reminders now that just a few weeks ago these wildflowers were part of a great cafeteria, feeding bees and Monarchs and many other fellow critters, then in flight.

The week now approaching brings not only Thanksgiving and in our hemisphere the approach of winter, but also the end of one cycle in the traditional Christian year, the passage from "ordinary time" after Pentecost into Advent, from the latin Adventus, or arrival, or coming.

In our allegorical construct, this is a time of expectant waiting as a distant and aloof Creator, heretofore amusing himself by observing and occasionally smiting the mixed results of cosmic handiwork, prepares to put on creation and jump feet-first into it in the form of an infant.

Humans who follow the Christian tradition, supremely self-centered as we are, have developed the peculiar notion that the incarnation is all about us. Other traditions know better and I beg to differ as well, sensing incarnation, death and resurrection in the cycle of a wetlands milkweed, too.

Jailhouse blues

Figuring out what to do with a century-old jail under a bad roof parked alongside busy railroad tracks and now vacant is not an enviable task, but that's what the Lucas County Board of Supervisors is trying to do this fall, most recently during a midweek public hearing.

The 1916 structure, which had served as the Lucas County Law Enforcement Center since 1973, was emptied a few weeks ago when the county sheriff's department and Chariton police moved to brand new quarters in the northwest part of town.

It's been obvious for years that there was no hope for adapting the old LEC to meet modern needs, especially the need to house prisoners in conformance with health and safety requirements, and it's taken years to come up with the workable solution the new building provides.

Regarding the old building, a couple things are sure bets. The county is unlikely to invest money in a building with no apparent use; supervisors don't have the money to invest in adapting it for an alternate public use even if a bright idea turned up; and finally, they're not likely to allow the structure to deteriorate into a hazard or an eyesore. The most likely outcome is demolition within a year.

So if you've got a creative solution for an historic structure --- and lots of money --- I'll be glad to tell you who to contact. Money would be the key here.

+++

Lucas County housed its first ne're-do-wells in an 18-by-20-foot log building erected sometime during the 1850s on Lot 6 of the block just west of the courthouse, according to Dan Baker's 1881 Lucas County history. That would put it west of the alley and east of the railroad tracks behind the Stanton-Ensley/Crocker buildings.

It was replaced during 1871 by a one-story brick building, 18-by-22-feet, built for $250 --- the first of three jails located where the old LEC now stands.

Between May and September of 1881, Lucas County supervisors spent $12,000 to erect an elaborate combination of sheriff's house and jail on the site of the 1871 building. This brick building, atop a stone foundation, consisted of a two-story 40-by-30-foot sheriff's residence facing south with a 37-by-36 jail annex to the north.

At that time, continuing well into the 20th century, it was common for Iowa county jails to serve as homes for the sheriff, making him chief jailer and, quite often, the sheriff's wife, the jailhouse cook. The sheriff's office was located in the courthouse.

The jail annex included on its first floor a vestibule, an office, a cell for male juveniles and, at the rear, four cells for male prisoners, divided by a hallway. The second flooor contained two cells for women, an office for the turnkey/guard and four auxiliary cells to be used if needed.

There was something dramatically wrong with the new jail, however --- but I've never done the research needed to find out exactly what. It became structurally unsound and beyond salvage during the opening years of the 20th century and, after about 35 years of use, was replaced in 1916 by the current building.

The contractor for the new jail was Andrew Jackson Stevens, who some years earlier had built the A.J. Stevens House in west Chariton that now is the centerpiece of the Lucas County Historical Society museum campus.

My great-aunt, Mary (Stevens) Myers, was a daughter of A.J. Stevens and perhaps because of that elements of the demolished 1881 jail were brought to my grandparents' farm and incorporated into a new produce storage cave that resembled a bunker designed to withstand nuclear attack. I've also heard the cells from the 1881 jail were incorporated into the 1916 building.

Family and other stories also hold that A.J. Stevens somehow miscalculated his bid on the new jail and that its construction bankupted him.

Whatever the case, he built a fine building that appears to be structurally sound although evidence of some slippage can be found at its southwest corner.

I'd like to think the old jail won't have to be torn down, but darned if I know what to do with it. And it doesn't seem likely that taking up a collection from among former inmates to preserve it has much of a future.

What to do with Rosemary?

It got down to 23 degrees here overnight, moving beyond the point where green stuff not designed for Iowa winters could logically be expected to survive. So I brought Rosemary inside and now don't know what to do with her.

I dug her up weeks ago from the little garden out back because I like oven-roasted potatoes: Cut into bite-sized pieces, toss in olive oil, a little butter and a little garlic, sprinkle with fresh rosemary, a little salt, a little pepper, then roast at 425 degrees or so.

So it seemed logical to prolong the rosemary supply by bringing some inside (have you priced fresh herbs at the grocery store?). Now, where to put her? The situation is complicated by the fact four other plants are parked in the garage awaiting their fate. There are only two big east-facing windows upstairs where this collection might go, but to clear space for them I'd have to move other stuff. We'll see.

This reluctance to let summer plants go must come from my mother and maternal grandfather, neither of whom considered nursery stock a wise summer investment. Mother brought into the dining room, with both south and west windows, as many geraniums, impatiens, etc., as would fit, for the most part relying on "slips" taken and rooted during late summer. The "mother" plants were uprooted, packed tightly with dirt in buckets and hauled to the upstairs hallway where light reached them from an east window. Watered minimally, they generally survived to move outside again come spring, supplemented offspring that had wintered downstairs.

I, on the other hand, like to go to the greenhouse in the spring an buy geraniums and other bedding plants --- a fairly cheap thrill. So it's not clear why I keep bringing these plants inside, unless it's genetics.

+++

By now I've made seven trips to the dump with pickup loads of mulched leaves and grass. With luck, only one more to go. Hauling leaves to the dump is a fairly boring business, so the average has been load a day. Plus that knee twisted a few weeks ago when leaping down an embankment still hurts when I clamber up into the bed of the truck to shovel leaves.

As mentioned earlier, Lee swept both our lots --- a quarter block --- with his beige beast on Saturday, piling the mulched result at the end of the driveway. My end of the deal is to haul them away and that's fine.

But my heart sank a little yesterday afternoon while working at the computer when the sound of the beige beast circling the house was heard again --- a few leaves have fallen since Saturday. Fortunately, not that many. Still just one more load most likely.

+++

John Pearson/Out and About Photo

This is a plug for a blog I read regularly, John Pearson's "Out and About." Pearson is entering his second year of exploring the outdoors, much of it in various Iowa settings. Pearson is an ecologist and author employed by the Iowa Department of Natural Resources, but this is his personal blog.

I'm a vicarious adventurer --- too lazy to be one but always entertained when reading about the adventures of others. I especially like it when Pearson's adventures center on Lake Red Rock, that 20,000-acre Des Moines River reservoir just up the road north of Knoxville.

His most recent post involves SURREEL, his Semi-annual Undertaking of the Red Rock End-to-End Loop. That translates to 30 miles of kayaking. You'll enjoy it.

The Tao of Salvation

I had an interesting experience the other day, hanging out online at a blog-related forum populated mostly by evangelicals, recovering and otherwise.

The blog’s author had posited that useful conversations were possible within the context of faith between conservative/fundamentalist Christians and LGBT people who identify as Christian. Perhaps we could agree to disagree, he suggested, or find ways to just get on with feeding the hungry and caring for the afflicted --- that sort of thing --- together.

My suggestion was, it all depends on where the conversation begins. If it begins, “but you are not a Christian,” then there’s no point in going farther. If it begins, “you are not behaving like a Christian,” then there is some potential.

+++

Naturally the conversation among posters turned to exactly what Jesus said about this and that, including the contention that his principal concerns were summed up in what sometimes are called the great commandments: Love God, love your neighbor and (by implication) just get on with living out those things and get over much of the rest.

Then responses by “Marvel” to one of my posts kind of summed up the barriers to those useful conversations we’d been talking about earlier.

“This post and many others proves that what you folks are calling ‘Christianity’ really isn't Christian at all,” she wrote. “You like the teachings of Jesus because you believe that Jesus' message was about love and acceptance of everyone. But the doctrinal stuff about repentance, sin, the wrath of God, etc., you'd like at the bottom of the sea.”

And then a little later: “Well I obviously don't have final say as to who's in and who's out. The scripture defines that. Read 1st John, or Galatians, or First Peter, and you'll see that the apostles made it their business to ensure that there were clear lines as to who was in and who was out.”

So, thank you Marvel for proving a point --- that what we call Christianity in many instances really isn’t. That guy Jesus was just too radical, too loving, too subversive. So Paul and others rushed in to do damage control and the church has been at it ever since.

What we really have is Paulianity, Bibleanity, Baptistianity, Catholicianity, Episcopalianity --- and so on. Just not Christianity.

+++

This conversation continued, sort of, during Bible study Tuesday morning --- and, yes, Episcopalians do study the Bible sometimes. Although our curriculum, which focuses on Bible readings for the upcoming Sunday, doesn’t offer “correct” answers, just the opportunity to explore.

This Sunday’s Gospel lesson will be from Matthew 31, that pesky parable about judgment where Jesus talks about how the sheep (those who are on the correct path) will be divided from the goats (those who aren’t). The correct path involves feeding the hungry, giving the thirsty a drink, clothing the naked, caring for the sick, visiting the imprisoned --- that sort of thing.

The part that turns the world upside down here is that the sheep, who have just been doing those things without thought of gain, are amazed to discover that they’re on the right path. The goats, who have been working hard to find the correct path but neglecting the basics, are amazed to discover that they’ve missed the boat entirely.

That led us to the Tao of salvation, territory few Bible study sessions venture into, but we’re Episcopalian, remember. Tao (or Dao), which can be translated from the Chinese as the Way, is the foundation of an extremely complex and varied Eastern philosophy. But one Taoist concept involves the need to lose in order to gain, and the idea that gaining quite often leads to loss. The world turned upside down again.

It’s also interesting that Jesus referred to himself as the “way” sometimes, as in “I am the way, the truth, and the life,” and also zeroed in on loss and gain --- “For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul?”; “it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God”; “If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”

That led to the idea that the road to salvation, something Christians seem to worry a good deal about, may involve the need to lose in order to gain.

In other words, forget about the concept of salvation and centuries of doctrine related to it, just lose it, stop fussing about who is in and who is out --- and get on with walking the walk. Then have a little faith, for heaven’s sake.