Heat waves

No storms here, but heat advisory orange has vanished for today at least from the Lucas County weather map --- a benefit of storms elsewhere in the state I suppose. But it has been hot and is likely to stay that way, 94 today, 97 predicted for July 4.

According to the three-day record, 97 on Wednesday was as hot as it got. But Thursday seemed the most extreme as breezes vanished and we just simmered.

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Things heated up on other levels Thursday when Chief Justice John Roberts Jr. joined the liberal wing of the U.S. Supreme Court to uphold the constitutionality of President Obama's health care law. Funny stuff, as Republican lawmakers sputtered and right-wing pundits hollered. Had things gone the other way, my people would have been sputtering and hollering, too, of course.

Here's the thing about "activist judges." All are --- liberal, conservative and in the middle. It goes with the territory and involves the nature of the job. So it's never really about activism, just about whether or not the observer agrees with the variety of activism evident in the decision. We all want activist judges --- so long as its our kind of activism.

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The best part of the news coverage Thursday involved CNN's and Faux News's misreading and misreporting of the Supreme Court decision. Frosting on the cake during a day of high comedy.

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So now the Romney campaign and those of other GOP hopefuls, disappointed by the court decision, have shifted into high gear to make repeal of  "Obamacare" a major campaign issue.

Have you noticed that Republicans aren't really for anything any more? From same-sex marriage amd conserving the environment through taxes and health care for the masses --- they're agin' it. I wonder how that's going to work.

Republicans remind me of Mama's old hens. Open the henhouse door, and they squawk, flap their wings and flop around --- then get back to the business of laying eggs.

Fourth of July blasts from the past

Chariton always has celebrated Independence Day in a big way, so far as anyone knows, and that will be the case this year, too, commencing with the Johnson Machine Works Flying Anvil 5K Walk/Run at 8 a.m. Saturday, community worship on the square at 10 a.m. Sunday and a variety of events, carnival rides and such Monday-Wednesday leading up to the big parade at 1 p.m. on the 4th and fireworks at 10 p.m.

July 4, 1867, seems to have been a big one --- the first trains reportedly arrived in town on the newly completed Burlington & Missouri River line that day. And one of the biggest celebration of all may have been on July 4, 1876 --- the nation's centennial. Unfortunately, no first-hand accounts of either survive.

Working my way through frustratingly incomplete issues of early newspapers on microfilm yesterday, the earliest report regarding a celebration I could find appeared, thanks to cranky editor John Faith, in The Chariton Democrat of June 29, 1869 --- and this dealt with plans for the event rather than the event itself, which John failed to report upon.

By today's standards, planning began very late --- not until Monday, June 22, when an organizational meeting was held at the courthouse and a committee was appointed to organize the celebration --- N.B. Gardner, chairman; Capt. A.U. McCormick, secretary; A.H. Stutsman, David Beem and G.B. Routt.

This "Committee of Arrangements" then retired to the clerk's office to "make arrangements for an Old Fashioned Celebration," which was scheduled for Monday, July 5, most likely to preserve the sanctity of Sunday. Various subcommittees were appointed, including Finance, Grounds, Music, Toasts and Salutes. Officers of the day were to be Dr. J.D. Wright, president; Wm. C. Penick, vice-president; Thomas Popham, chief marshal; and Jesse Coles and L.N. Funk, assistant marshals.

Then as now, the location was to be the public square, and the following schedule was worked out:

1st --- Prayer by Chaplain, Rev. Tappan;

2nd --- Music, by the band;

3rd --- Reading of the Declaration of Independence, by Rev. Mr. Pomeroy;

4th --- Music, by the Glee Club;

5th --- Oration, by Robert Coles;

6th --- Music, by the band;

7th --- Refreshments (basket dinner);

8th --- Music, by the band;

9th --- Toasts and responses;

10th --- Music, by the Glee Club;

11th --- Toasts and responses;

12th --- Music, by the band;

13th --- General good time, by all.

And, of course, "Fireworks at Night."

Toasts were big in those days, and were not quite what we think of when toasts are mentioned today. Orations and responsive huzzahs were involved rather than hard liquor --- although no doubt there was a good deal of that going around, too. The following toasts were to be delivered: Our Country by Col. Dungan; The Day We Celebrate by Mr. Maple; Our virgin State, unrivaled in soil and climate and free from debt, offers inducements to the poor and worthy unequalled by any other in the Union by T.M. Stuart, Esq., The Ladies of Iowa by N.B. Branner; and The Army and Navy by A.A. Stutsman.

Unfortunately, as I said earlier, there was no follow-up report in later issues of The Democrat to tell us how the whole thing went.

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Since reports for 1876 have vanished, I turned next to 1875 and 1877, hoping to get some feel for how the celebrations had developed by then by sandwiching the big year --- but was a little disappointed.

There were two almost passing references to the 1875 celebration in The Chariton Patriot's edition of June 30, including the announcement that "Henry Clay Dean will apostrophise the American Eagle in Chariton on the glorious Fourth. No man in these United States is move devoted to our native soil."

Although largely forgotten now, Dean had been a noted Copperhead and apologist for the Confederacy who, despite that, remained a popular orator in Chariton --- staunchly Union --- after the Civil War. His home in 1875 was Rebel's Cove, a large farm tucked into a bend in the Chariton River just over the Missouri state line southeast of Centerville.

And this: "The C.B. & Q.R.R. will sell half fare tickets for excursions on the 4th. A large number of people from various points along the line will probably embrace this opportunity to visit Chariton. If they don't, they miss a good thing."

But the Patriot editor seemed more interested in the a big celebration planned for the 4th --- on Sunday again this year and therefore observed on the 5th --- in Burlington. Keep in mind that in 1875 Lucas Countyans thought little of Des Moines, where everyone heads today, but looked toward Burlington on the Mississippi, easily reachable by rail, as their principal city.

"They are going to have a big time at Burlington on the 4th (rather the 5th)," The Patriot reported, "a trades procession, soda water, oration by Robt. Collyer, ice cream, foot races, beer, fire works, &c. Half fare on the railroads, hospitable treatment by the citizens and a good time generally for everybody."

No accounts of Chariton's celebration appeared in The Patriot of July 7, but the editor did note that "County Treasurer Custer took a trip to Burlington to attend the 4th of July celebration on Monday of this week, which was the first time he had been out of the county for sixteen years, and the first time that he ever boarded a train of cars except one ride to Russell in this county a few years ago."

Others on that excursion, in addition to J.B. Custer and his daughter, Carrie, were County Recorder J.B. Smith and wife, County Auditor Robert McCormick, Mr. D.M. Thompson and wife, Mr. R.J. Coles and wife, Mr. E.B. Woodward and wife and Mr. Thomas Ewing.

In may be that a lengthy report of a storm that had occurred Thursday evening, July 1, crowded out other news of the 4th. Under a header "The Great Storm," the Patriot described that storm as "the most terrible thunder and rain storm that we have ever witnessed."

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During 1877, The Patriot published on Wednesday, July 4, and included the following program for the day:

National Salute at sunrise.

Procession formed at 10 o'clock between D.M. Thompson's and Catholic Church.

Meeting called to order at 11 o'clock.

Prayer by Rev. J.W. Todd.

Music.

Reading Declaration by Rev. .A. Russell.

Music.

Oration by J.C. Mitchell.

Music.

Dinner.

Fantastics, 2 o'clock.

Toasts, 3 o'clock.

Balloon, 7 o'clock.

Fire-works, 8 o'clock.

And there was a follow-up report in The Patriot of July 11: "The celebration at Chariton proved to be quite a success after all (no indication of what the anticipated difficulty had been). A good crowd was present and a pleasant day and evening were spent. The principal speech was delivered by J.C. Mitchell Esq. and was quite a happy effort. The Declaration was read by Prof. Russell and short speeches made by Robert Coles and S.D. Wheeler. Our Band, than which there is no better in the State, furnished some excellent music and, in the evening a small supply of fireworks was exhibited. The ice-cream saloons did a good business and all went as merry as a marriage bell. But few drunks and no fights as far as heard from."

All the men and women merely players

If "all the world's a stage," as Shakespeare proposes, the curtain fell too slowly on Warren Weston Noble --- incapacitated for 10 years by a stroke suffered in his late 50s after a career that had lasted more than 30 years.

In part because of that slow decline, I think, there has been no curtain call --- no one remembers. Lichen shrouds his modest tombstone in the Chariton Cemetery, making its inscription --- "Warren W. Noble, Jan. 26, 1856 - Apr. 9, 1923" --- impossible to read and his grave difficult to find.

Born near the square in Chariton during 1856, he learned and practiced the printer's trade in the offices of The Leader and The Patriot. Star-crossed in human love, perhaps? Who knows? The theater became sufficient.

"As a youth, when the shows came to town, he always hung about the old opera house," Henry Gittinger, then editor of The Chariton Leader, reported during July of 1918 after visting Noble, then 62 and confined to his room at the "old Noble homestead."

Then, according to Gittinger, "his chance came and he engaged for the season, traveling extensively with other companies until he organized one of his own and Warren Noble became known in all parts of the country," traveling "with his special car and his dramatic company, entertaining thousands of people."

The reports in Chariton newspapers commence with a brief item in The Patriot of Dec. 5, 1877, when Warren was 21 and "traveling with the Breyer theatrical troupe, now playing Ohio."

During July of 1879, after "traveling with the Western Theater Co. during the past year," Warren "returned home to spend a few weeks vacation."

To track his career farther, it would be necessary to wade item by item through more than 30 years of newspapers and there's no time for that right now.

But by 1918, only memories and memorabilia remained. "Upon the walls of his room are numerous photographs and pictures of those with whom he has been associated in the past, some having passed beyond the tragedies of this life,"Gittinger reported.

When Warren died five years later, his old friend fell back upon theatrical allusions to report his death on the front page of The Leader of April 10, 1923, under the headline "Well Known Comedian Is Off the Stage" and the subhead, "The Curtain of Life Closes on Warren W. Noble at His Home in Chariton Yesterday."

So far as I know, none of the memorabilia survived --- unless it's tucked away in a trunk somewhere. But here's the obituary:

Warren Weston Noble was born in Chariton, Iowa, on January 26, 1856, and died April 9, 1923, aged sixty-seven years, two months and eleven days.

And in this brief paragraph is the beginning and ending of a mortal scene, and as the day closed and the somber shadows formed into the curtains of night, so this life passed out at 8:00 o'clock.

He was the oldest son of Appleton R. and Maria Noble, pioneer residents of Lucas County, who long since passed from this pilgrimage, leaving their memories strongly engraven in the affaction of those who survived. At the time of Warren's birth, the family home was in a residence near where the Smyth block is now, and his boyhood was spent in his native village.

There were six children of the family, two sisters dying in infancy. The three surviving brothers are George, of Chicago, and Chas. E. and Clinton, of this city.

He was never married. He was of a positive character and brilliant mind and his nature was one of generosity and much could be said of this and will remain as an encomium. As a companiable gentleman he was most cordial and interesting, and hospitable almost to his own slight and had the advantages of culture and travel. And thus he is remembered in the vigor of his active manhood.

As a youth he learned the printer's trade in The Leader office when it was conducted by the late D.M. Baker, but as he had a trenchant for the drama he afterwards took up acting and was a master of the stage, and became the genius of the Warren W. Noble Dramatic Co., and his troupes appeared in all the important cities in the United States, but as he had a most sympathetic nature he often returned to his native town and his tenderness in parental regard and family ties was truly commendable.

He never neglected a friend. Year after year he traveled far and near and the name of Warren Noble was everywhere, it being one of his policies never to turn anyone away from his doors on account of not having the money to enter, and thousands of school children from coast to coast received his favors and were his friends. He got more satisfaction out of this than in any other part of his work. His benovelence was superb.

And so often he came back to the old home, and then away again.

But one day ten years ago he returned --- to remain. He was stricken with paralysis and from that time 'til yesterday when he took his final departure, he was slowly dying shut up in his room.

Weak in body and less vigorous in mind he endured it heroically to the end, often playing over the past and conversing with his friends as they called. In his circumscribed stage, tho he never left his narrow room --- and received new joys, only to again lapse into melancholy at the fate which had befallen him.

But the last scene has closed --- and the curtain has fallen. It was pathetic.

The funeral will be held at his late home Wednesday afternoon at 2 o'clock conducted by the Rev. Frank Bean.

Valkommen till Swedesburg

Anyhow --- yesterday's early-morning cleanup of the Chariton square went very well. About 10 of us showed up at 6 a.m. armed with gloves, garbage cans, sacks and a variety of implements to deal with weeds in sidewalk and curb cracks, cigarette butts, scraps of paper, chewing gum and other stuff. Several of us worked until about 8 a.m. It looked wonderful when we were done. Really.

And it wasn't bad to begin with. But it's amazing how much litter is carelessly discarded, how fast weeds grow and how little effort it takes to make a considerable difference. There will be a repeat during late July. This is a project of the Design Committee of Chariton Area Chamber/Main Street.

Now back to Swedesburg, where a meeting of the Small Museums Group of the Iowa Museum Association took 42 of us, mostly from southeast and south central Iowa, on Monday. Hosts were members of the Swedish Heritage Society and the principal attraction, the society's excellent Swedish American Museum.

Swedesburg itself is an immaculate village of about 90 souls and perhaps 25 houses 10 miles north of Mount Pleasant alongside Highway 218 (or 40 miles south of Iowa City) in Henry County.

The most distinctive building in town is also its focus, the Swedesburg Evangelical Lutheran Church. This is the congregation's third building since its founding in 1861 --- an overheated chimney flue caused a fire that destroyed the first and lightning struck the soaring steeple of the second, a classic Scandinavian Lutheran church building. Third time around, the congregation built with brick and brick has prevailed. The congregation remains active, affiliated with the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA).

The beautifully maintained parish cemetery embraces the church's north and west sides. This happened to be my favorite among the tombstones.

Out day-long meeting was held in the Parish Hall a block southwest. This building began as a rather small academy for young women, became coeducational and finally was recycled to serve as the principal gathering place for the congregation and the community. Like Topsy, it just growed and now incorporates a small auditorium, gathering rooms capable of seatig a couple of hundred people, smaller meeting room, restrooms and kitchen.

Swedesburg still has a post office, but no commercial businesses --- other than the exceptional Swedish gift shop incorporated in the Swedish American Museum --- three doors south.

The main museum building began life as a store, but has been creatively recycled to incorporate a professionally designed display area introducing the community and its heritage, a coffee shop where residents gather and small meetings are held and gift shop.

The museum is considerably larger than it appears at first glance to be. A large genealogy and local history room at the rear of this building leads into a country store and from the store, into the Huckster Building, both carefully restored buildings once elsewhere in town. A tiny apartment furnised in vintage fashion is upstairs in the Huckster Building and a typical Swedish summer cottage is located in the side yard.

I really liked the general store, but was especially intrigued by the huckster display, which focuses on the part peddlers played in pioneer Iowa, where stores were few and far between. Fully loaded with staples and other items, the peddlar brought retail to the farm. This perfect little building also contains general displays related to Swedesburg history.

Take a look, too, while in Swedesburg at the Charles E. Hult home, built in 1867 just northeast of the museum and the community's oldest home. Although still privately owned and maintained by descendants and therefore not open to the public, it most likely will pass one day to the heritage association. I've not seen anything quite like the huckster display in any other Iowa museum.

Although Swedish immigrants arrived in southeast Iowa first during 1845, establishing the first Swedish settlements in the Midwest, Swedesburg itself dates from the 1860s when immigrants drained marshy soil in the north part of Henry County disdained by earlier settlers, creating some of what now is the best farm land in the region.

The Swedish American Museum is among the liveliest of Iowa's smaller museums, open a remarkable five days a week, from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. every Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday except New Year's Day, Thanksgiving and Christmas. The operation is fueled entirely by volunteers.

When we were there Monday, Swedesburg was getting ready for its annual Midsommar celebration, which begins at 7 p.m. Friday on the Parish Hall lawn. The traditional majstang --- maypole --- will be raised and open-air concert will be followed by refreshments. This year's entertainers will be the Scandinavian Quartet, whose members met as students at the Royal College of Music, Stockholm. Swedesburg also observes Lucia Day as Christmas nears.

If you're in any doubt about how to get to Swedesburg, just head north of Mount Pleasant on U.S. 218 and watch for the big straw Julbok about 10 miles north on your left.

The Julbock that shouts "Swedesburg"

OK, so Pella is Dutch; Decorah, Norwegian; and the Amanas, earthly expressions of the German Community of True Inspiration --- but it takes a little time for unaware visitors to figure these things out.

At Swedesburg, nothing is left to chance. A giant straw Julbock parked by the main entrance to town just off Highway 218 north of Mount Pleasant, as well as the name, leave nothing to doubt. This immaculate unincorporated village of about 90 souls gathered round a Lutheran church and a museum is --- Swedish.

Swedesburg's Swedish American Museum played host to a daylong meeting yesterday of the Iowa Museum Association's Small Museums Group --- which is why I happened to be standing beside a busy highway in southeast Iowa Monday afternoon interacting with a giant straw Christmas goat.

More about that later.

The difficulty this morning is that it seemed like a good idea two weeks ago to be complicit in scheduling a clean-up lap around Chariton's square for 6 a.m. today --- to help get ready for the big 4th of July celebration. Now, bleary-eyed and battered, I'm not so sure. I'll let you know how it goes.

Buy me, please (on June 27)

Speaking of fine old homes, one of Chariton's will be sold at auction on Wednesday, June 27 --- 216 South Grand Street --- to settle the estates of the late Judge Bill and Elgin Stuart. It had been their home for 57 years.

I've always admired this house and think you should buy it --- moving to Chariton if necessary. Sale of household items will begin at 5:30 p.m. and of the house, at 7 p.m. --- write it down!

According to the auction circular, the home was built during 1890 by C.W. Rose, who I'm thinking may have been the Charles Wesley Rose who married Jennie Proctor. If I'm mistaken about that, I'm sure someone will let me know.

It's a little hard to assign a style, other than Victorian, to the house. Viewed head-on from the west, it looks vaguely colonial revival. But that I suspect is a factor of the later entry and modern shutters. My guess is that there have been substantial alterations to the front over the years, and that there might once have been a frilly front porch all across the facade, or perhaps just a different entry porch. But the absence of the shingled band that marks the transition from first to second floor on the north, east and south sides suggest a major change.

The bayed and balconied south front of the west wing is the most distinctive feature of the exterior. Imagine stepping out there with a cup of coffee as the sun is coming up? Or watching the world go by on South Grand on a summer evening.

There's also a back yard with lots of potential and considerable privacy as well as a single garage and shed. A good deal of updating has been done to the house in the last couple of years, although it always has been well maintained. So this is about as good as it gets in the marketplace for a fine old house that's always been a home rather than a self-conscious showplace.

Sale of the house will break bonds between Chariton and the Stuarts, a family that has included a line of attorneys and others that stretches back into the 1850s. And that's too bad.

If you'd like more information about the auction, including photos of some of the items to be sold, you will find it here.

The Zillow game

This obsession involving old houses I've mentioned, but never the Zillow game, a pastime akin to the addictions of nearer-than-I'd-like contemporaries who haul their walkers and portable oxygen over to that casino at Osceola, hobble down the ramp and fritter their Social Security checks away. With Zillow, thankfully, it's only time that's frittered --- and it's all done in the comfort of home. There is no buffet, however.

To play it, call up Zillow, an online real estate database that's been around since 2005, and decide what you're looking for. Usually I want vintage property close to home (this is voyeurism, remember; I have no money), so after I type in "Iowa" following "Find Homes" and hit the search button, the stalking begins. Find "More Filters" in the new window and expand it to narrow the search.

The Barrows House, ca. 1930

You can enter dates under "Year Built" --- 1850-1860 generates a few hits in Iowa; 1850-1890 far more. Or you can enter "Keywords." Partial to "Second Empire" and "Italianate" styles, I try those sometimes. "Historic" is interesting in part because of just what some Realtors consider historic. "Mansion" turns up a few. Be innovative. Experiment.

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My find of the day, using "1850-1860" to search, is the E. S. Barrows Mansion in Davenport, one of Iowa's Mississippi River towns, priced at a mere $229,000. I like it for all sorts of reasons. Built in 1856, it's Greek Revial --- the portico is original equipment, pillars reportedly hauled upriver on a steamboat. Greek Revival is rare in Iowa. The walls, laid from stone quarried nearby, are 22 inches thick.

It's also a salvaged home, snatched back from the brink of demolition in the late 1980s and 1990s and carefully (and expensively) restored. That's a positive thing. I also like the restrained interiors within those vintage walls.

The location may not be that great --- at the intersection of East 6th Street and Pershing Avenue, with downtown Davenport between house and river. But It's high (flood-proof, and quite a bit of Davenport isn't) and has sweeping views.

The house was built by Dr. Egbert Storrs Barrows, the first physician to establish a practice in the Quad-Cities, arriving in Iowa during 1836 after service as a U.S. Army surgeon during the Seminole War.

Storrs died in the home at age 93, during March of 1892, after breaking a hip and rather famously was buried in a tamper-proof iron container in Oakdale Cemetery ---not afraid of death, but leery of body-statchers. An inscription on his monument according to a contemporary newspaper report: "All who sleep here still exist as material constituents of the universe. Hope may, but belief should not transcend experience."

By the 1920s, the home had been divided into apartments and its stonework encased in stucco. Deterioration had accelerated by mid-century and by the 1970s, it was a wreck, selling at one point for $4,500 in back taxes according to a Quad-City Times article.

Lolita Bauer purchased the place during the 1980s when condemnation and demolition were possibilities and invested years and a modest fortune in its renovation. She apparently is principally responsible for the way it looks to day.

Hoping to recoup her investment and move on to a less extensive renovation project, she offered it for sale during 1995 for $340,000.  In 2002, it was being considered as the site for an African-American heritage center, but that didn't work out.

According to online accounts, old house has been the home of David Leo and Andrew Patterson since 2009. Now, it can be yours.

It'll always be "Peanut Day"

The big problem, when the photographer likes to run his mouth, is that he forgets to run the camera. Which is kind of what happened yesterday evening during our "Peanut Day" open house at the museum. So many people to talk to --- so little time --- and so the selection of images is limited.

We fed about 100 people in a two-hour stretch, which is a great crowd for fairly brief event on a busy Friday evening. This vindicates Marilyn, who insisted we proceed after some of us with lesser faith were talking of pulling the plug on June and focusing on July after initial plans for the event didn't develop. As it turned out, lots of people were content just to visit, eat and look around on a beautiful cool early-summer evening.

The barn (top) continued to get a workout after several years of limited use. The Nickersons filled it for lunch last Friday, supper guests overflowed this Friday and the Roberts reunion is sceduled here next Saturday. That big wooden contraption in the foreground is a bobsled --- a wonderful piece of work that's kind of a challenge to display because of its size. Back in the day, the rack or box from a wheeled wagon would be lifted from its running gears during snowy and icy weather and placed on the sled, then used to transport hay, other items --- and people.

This was Penut Day because no matter what we call this annual June event most people just call it Peanut Day anyhow because the peanut roaster that began life a century or more ago at Piper's Grocery is always fired up and freshly roasted peanuts served. I took this quick photo of peanutmeister Bob Ulrich, planning to come back in five minutes when roasted peanuts were pouring out of it. Then forgot. We have another carton of raw peanuts in cold storage and will roast them during September or October.

Earl Herring (left here with the Mitchell boys on the right), who has written a personal memoir about growing up at Derby and now is working on a community history, was on hand to visit --- and since the Derby reunion is today drew a considerable crowd.

The 1929 Model A was a hit of the evening. Reconditioned last winter, this is the first time in several years we were able to drive it out of its storage area and onto the lawn to be a center of attraction. This photo of the Jerry Pierschbachers --- he did the reconditioning along with Al Pearson --- and Aspen Miller was taken before we opened Friday. Aspen is one of our youngest members --- and a highly qualified tour guide; Jerry, an LCHS board member.

And then there was our highly qualified hot dog crew. Others, including Marilyn and Martha, managed to avoid being in the photo, but these two were trapped behind a table.

I especially enjoyed visiting with Donald and Gwen Cottingham, of Mason City and Arizona, putting faces to names. I actually know two Gwen Cottinghams, a little unusual because of the distinctive nature of the name. I graduated from high school with Gwen, daughter of Lee; this is Gwen, married to Donald, who is a son of Lloyd. Lee and Lloyd were brothers. The latter Cottinghams were in the area for today's Derby reunion.

And then there were Dennis Boldt and Karen Chapman Werts, illustrating what happens when you go away for 40 years and still carry around images in your head of what people looked like we all were kids. So now I know what they look like now --- not that much different actually when you think about it --- and that's even better.

So the job for today is to go back to the barn and sweep up all those peanut shells so it'll be ready for next weekend.

Summer solstice

In case you missed it --- as I did in a convulsion of general busyness --- the precise instant was 6:09 p.m. CDT on Wednesday, so it's now the dawn of the second full day of summer. We should have had a party.

A Midsummer Night's Dream on the lawn perhaps.

This is, after all, an occasion of as much significance in the universal nature of stuff as the winter solstice, which those of us who are culturally Christian have co-opted for Christmas, or the spring equinox (Easter), but for some reason we've never fully claimed the passage from spring to summer. Thank goodness for pagans, who do remember to mark the occasion.

I took a short walk around the marsh last evening to see what was in bloom for the occasion, and these are some of the results.

An early spring followed by near-drought, then return of moisture, has caused some disorientation. In ways it seems more like mid-summer than just the beginning. And much that should be in full bloom right now actually bloomed a couple of weeks ago.

At home, extreme heat and lack of rain fried the flowers along the south side of the house, usually a waist-high display of coneflowers, assorted grasses and bright yellows just coming into its own right now, looking good before high summer asserts its full power. I've been averting my eyes.

Even if we weren't celebrating, the birds were last evening. More red-winged blackbirds, goldfinches and assorted warblers, twitterers and swallows than a guy could shake a stick at. Quite a display.

Farmers Market has resumed on the square, and a community band concert on the counrthouse lawn followed that yesterday evening --- missing the solstice by only 24 hours.

And we're throwing a little "Peanut Day" party at the museum this evening --- from 5 to 7 p.m. Free hot dogs, chips and lemonade plus peanuts fresh-roasted in the old Piper's roaster. Everyone's welcome. This will be pretty low-key. My ideas for a pagan sun worship ceremony were overruled. Maybe next year.

 

Irony and marriage equality

The Rev. Fred Luter Jr.

John S. and I have had a long-running (and good-humored) dispute about appropriate use of the word "irony," which causes me to stay away from it as a rule: I might slip up, ya know, and be left wide open to a semantic skewering.

But what else would you call the Southern Baptist Convention's move on Tuesday to elect its first black president (the Rev. Fred Luter Jr.), followed up on Wednesday by overwhelming approval of a resolution declaring that LGBT people lack the "distinguishing features of classes entitled to special protections?"

Southern Baptists, you may recall, are among the good Christians who brought us slavery, enthusiastically thumping the Bible's many affirmations of that institution, and then Jim Crow. The denomination apologized for all of that in 1995. Jesus loves black folks, too, many Southern Baptists now acknowledge.

Wednesday's resolution was phrased in terms of denominational opposition to marriage equality: "We deny that the effort to legalize 'same-sex marriage' qualifies as a civil rights issue since homosexuality does not qualify as a class meriting special protections, like race and gender."

It's kind of fun to remember that if the Rev. Mr. Luter's forbears were in fact slaves back in the good old days of plantations, hoop skirts and forced labor, they would not have been allowed to marry. Nor would Luter have been allowed to marry without criminal penalty someone of another race in the South until 1967, when the U.S. Supreme Court in Loving v. Virginia threw out as unconstitutional all anti-miscegenation laws.

At least 41 states, even territorial Iowa, had such legislation in place at one time or another; 16 states still did in 1967 --- a majority in the South. Onward Christian soldiers!

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Frankly, I can't decide if it's ironic or not that one of the nation's largest and most active Unitarian Universalist congregation, All Souls Unitarian, is located in Tulsa --- Oklahoma. Oklahoma?

But having once dwelt among UUs and feeling the need for a long, cool drink of sensible water some days, I check the All Souls' sermon offerings now and then. Here is senior minister, the Rev. Marlin Lavanhar's, take on marriage equality in a sermon delivered May 20. Preach it, brother!

Dedicating the Mormon Trail markers

The drive to locate and mark the Mormon Trail's route through Iowa during the second decade of the 20th century resulted in two monuments in Lucas County --- bronze plaques attached to substanial boulders, one located at the southwest corner of the courthouse lawn and the other, a mile and a half southeast of town along the eastern flank of Chariton Point.

These sites were chosen not only to mark the trail but also to commemorate specific points along it that were important in Lucas County's history.

The "Chariton Point" monument was located near the site of Buck Townsend's cabin, where newly-elected county commissioners met during the late summer of 1849 to organize Lucas County. Townsend generally is recognized as the first permanent settler in the Chariton vicinity and, according to oral tradition, purchased the pre-emption claim where his cabin was located from Mormon pioneers during 1848.

Until Chariton was established and cabins were built on the new town site, the Towensend cabin functioned as a primitive inn and those unable to fit inside camped around it.

The final words on the marker here explain the significance of its location: "Chariton Point. Junction of Eddyville Trail. Here Lucas County was organized in 1848."

The date "1848" is a little misleading. Although the state Legislature ordered during 1848 that Lucas County be organized, the first election was not held until August of 1849 and the organization itself did not occur until four days later, Aug. 10, 1849, when the new county commissioners met at the Townsend cabin at Chariton Point.

The courthouse monument is not only on the trail, but also quite near the site of the survey stake --- at the southwest corner of the square --- which county seat locating commissioners declared to be the center point of the 160 acres they had selected as the location for Chariton on Sept. 11, 1849.

Again, words on the monument explain the significance of its location: "Here upon the trail September 11, 1849, was located the townsite of Chariton."

These monuments were put into place during 1917, at the height of World War I --- and that probably is why they were not formally dedicated at the time.

Dedication did not occur until six years later, on Dec. 13, 1923, when members of Chariton's Old Thirteen chapter, Daughters of the American Revolution, organized a ceremony in the auditorium of the then brand new Chariton High School.

Afterwards, the monuments were officially "unveiled," resulting in the wonderful photo at the top here, taken from a fragile "Old Thirteen" scrapbook now in the Lucas County Historical Society collection. Standing to the left of the monument are (from left) Edgar R. Harlan, curator of the Iowa State Historical Department; Mrs. H.R. Horrell, chair of the D.A.R. "Iowa Trails" project; and Amy E Gilbert, state D.A.R. regent. The children flanking the stone are Betty Gutch (left) and Billie McCollough. To the right are (from left) Ila Steele, Old Thirteen regent; Anna Gbbon Copeland, past Old Thirteen regent; Mrs. Mildred Pa(remainder of name torn away) and Louise McCollough.

And here's the program for the dedication ceremony, somewhat stained because it was pasted firmly into the scrapbook.

I wrote earlier about the occasionally annoying Henry W. Gittinger, who almost single-handedly led the charge to have the Mormon Trail through Lucas County designated "Mormon Trace." Henry was still at, according to a newspaper announcement of the dedication program:

"One of the features of the dedication is a short debate between Curator Harlan, of Des Moines, and H.W. Gittinger, as to whether the designation should be 'Mormon Trace' or 'Mormon Trail,' the Curator holding to the latter."

Headlong down the Mormon Trace

This map shows the general route of the main Mormon Trace/Trail through Lucas County. I used the 1875 Andreas Atlas map of the county as a base.

There are days that, when confronted by trail markers that say "Mormon Trace," I'm tempted to go down to Russell and kick Henry Gittinger's tombstone.

It was Henry, bless his heart, who from his then-perch as editor of The Chariton Leader complained long and loud when state and D.A.R. officials kept referring to the leg of the 1840s Mormon route through Lucas County as "Trail" rather than "Trace."

"Trace" in this instance is just a synonym for "Trail," and it's not at all clear that "everyone" here actually called it that, as Henry and others insisted. But he was so vocal and so annoying about it that he finally got his way and "Trace" it's been ever since.

The difficulty is, "Trace" is not a word used much in this context these days and while it's good local nomencalture was preserved, its use tends to confuse the already mildly disorienting situation in Lucas and its southerly neighbor, Wayne, where there actually are three and in at least one case four threads of trail. Here's how it goes:

The Mormon Pioneer Trail, entering far southeast Wayne County from Appanoose and leading northwesterly to Garden Grove in Decatur County, was used by the first parties of Saints departing southeast Iowa in the early spring of 1846, including Brigham Young, William Clayton and others. Young ordered the Pioneer Trail abandoned as soon as he reached Garden Grove in April of 1846.

Young directed subsequent parties to use the Mormon "Trace" (aka Trail) route that passes through Lucas County and avoids a Chariton River crossing by following the ridge dividing the Des Moines/Mississippi and Chariton/Missouri river drainages. This was the route west followed by virtually all of Saints from the early summer 1846 through the autumn of 1848. It enters Lucas County's southeast corner, angles northwesterly up through Greenville to the approximate site of Russell, then heads almost due west to Chariton Point.

A major shortcut also developed in Lucas County. This headed west from Greenville, rather than swinging up to Russell, and passed thorugh the neighborhood later known as Ragtown before rejoining the main Trace/Trail near Salem Cemetery, just southeast of Chariton.

During early 1849, a fairly easy Chariton River crossing was discovered in northwest Appanoose County that allowed travelers to cut directly west from Dodge's Point across northern Wayne County to Garden Grove. Although a majority of the Saints already had moved west by this time, those still on the trail generally used this middle route until 1851, when the move west through southern Iowa was nearly complete. It remained popular, as did the Mormon Trace, with other westward bound travelers who followed.

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Truth be told, there had been little interest in Iowa in tracking the Mormon Trail precisely until the second decade of the 20th century when Edgar R. Harlan, then curator of the State Historical Department, paired up with the formidable Daughters of the American Revolution to do just that. It was this joint effort that led to the two substantial stone monuments in Lucas County, one on the courthouse square and the other southeast of town along the Blue Grass Road.

Locating the Mormon Trace was a fairly simple task from Lucas County's eastern boundary west because it was marked clearly on the first survey maps of the region and described  in survey notes. The survey began in Lucas County during 1847, when the ruts of the "Mormon Road" were about the only man-made landmark for surveyors to note.

Part of the locating process involved the collection of stores from those who remembered the trail as a busy highway, and Henry Gittinger and The Leader were instrumental in this, working with Laura Gibbon and others of the Chariton D.A.R. chapter.

Many of these published memories date from 1850 or later, when the Trace was still a busy road but Mormon use had diminished.

This first memories here, an account by Nathan W. Kendall published in The Leader of March 23, 1911, deal with the trail shortcut west from Greenville to Salem. The Kendalls did not arrive in Lucas County until 1850, and at that time travelers on the Trace would have included a broad mix of Mormon refugees, '49ers headed west to California gold fields and pioneers interested in establishing new homes as western Iowa opened to settlement.

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Editor Leader: It gives me great satisfaction to read those articles of Thomas Brandon, S.C. McKinley and others in regard to the old Mormon Trace, as it carries me back to my boyhood days. I will give you my version, taking Dodge's Point (Iconium, in Appanoose County) as my starting point, and to the best of my recollections the old Mormon Trace, after leaving Dodge's Point, passed in a northwesterly direction following the main divide and passing just north of or through the farm known as the Alex Black place, thence northwest passing the farm known as the Mark Henion place, in Jackson township, Monroe county, thence west past the John C. Evans farm, thence a little northwest --- coming into Lucas county about two and a half miles north of the Wayne county line, cutting off a coner of the Abner McKinley quarter section, on the northeast, continuing northwest, cutting off the southwest corner of the Abbott Kendall quarter section, thence to the X.E. West home. There the travel went due west down a long ridge, lying about forty rods north of the Greenville school house, thence across the foot hills of the Lem Fenley and Jonathan Aldrich farms, crossing the Ricker branch about 250 yards north of the site of the present bridge, thence up the hill spoken of in S.C. McKinley's article, in which he speaks of the old trace yet being plain to be seen, which is true, to the top of the hill.


Now, I just want to tarry on this hill for a little while. A that time I think I was about twelve years old, the age in which one's memory is so active and impressions so lasting. At the time of which I speak there came a Mormon train of fifteen or twenty wagons, camping on the hill for several days. From what reasons I do not know. Possibly to rest their teams, or may be on account of sickness, as two or three children died there and were buried on that hill. These little mounds were noticeable for a long while but the ravages of time have obliterated them and I could not locate them now, but the little forms sleep there in peace to be gathered to the Father many days hence.


From here the old trace continued north and west I think through what is known as the Fulkerson farm (until quite recently the Kells farm --- FDM), thence west through the Marcus Evans farm, crossing the Rag Town slough about a half a mile north of the present Rag Town bridge, where there is a small grove of timber, thence passing a little north of the Salem church, which is west of Russell, thence west by the Jackson Berry and Ananias McKinley farms, and on to Chariton Point. Here the trail becomes dim but I think it ran south of Chariton, bearing west, about where the old cemetery is, south and east of Chariton. In conclusion I will say that I have given a description of th Old Mormon Trace from Dodge's Point, in Appanoose county, to Chariton Point, in Lucas county, a distance of abut twenty-five miles, to the very best of my recollection, and hoping that Colonel Warren S. Dungan, and other interested parties, will take up the old trace subject and carry it on as it is very interesting to me. Yours truly, N.W. Kendall, Russell, Iowa.

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The following letter, sandwiched between editorial notes by Gittinger, was published in The Leader of April 13, 1911, and deals with the route of the Trace through what now is Chariton:

Mrs. L. R. (Laura) Gibbon of this city, who is the member of the committee appointed by the D.A.R. for investigating and marking the old Mormon Trace, for the central section, recently received the following interesting letter from Mrs. Hall, one of the pioneers of Lucas County, but who is now residing in Denver, Colorado. The letter was written by an emanuensis (it was dictated rather than written by Mrs. Hall):

371 Broadway, Denver

April 2, 1911

Dear Mrs. Gibbon: I have been very much interested in reading of the proposed marking of the old Mormon Trace by the Daughters of the Revolution. I came over the Trace from Dodge's Point in the fall of 1850, and as there seems to be no one in Chariton who knows whether the road went through where the town now stands I have been wanting to write to you what I know about it, but I have been in very poor health for the past six months so I have turned the writing over to another, (her daughter, Margaret Hall).

Finding on our arrival in Chariton no house in which we could live, we returned to Eddyville for the winter, returning to Chariton the next spring, in March, and building a small house on the street you now live on (South Grand Street), about where the Sam McKlveen house now is. I could stand in the door and see the long, white wagon trains coming from Chariton Point and past our door, the people stopping to beg water with their lips parched and dry --- sometimes covered with court plaster. I could not refuse although we had to haul all the water from the Chariton river. The first well in Chariton was dug in 1851, on what is known as the Smyth corner, but it only afforded a small pail of water each day, for drinking purposes, for five or six families.

The trains went on west and passed the Jake Wyant place. A Mr. John Mansfield, who lived out southwest of town, near what was known as Grave Hollow, told our folks that he had counted as many as two hundred wagons passing in a day, and this was in the spring of 1851, and in 1852 there were still Mormons and gold seekers going trough in great numbers. This same Mr. Mansfield told me that Grave Hollow took its name from the fact a Mormon fell from an over crowded wagon broke his neck, and was buried there. (The victim actually was a woman, Sarah Gabbut).

I think that Mrs. J.A.J. Bentley ought to be able to give valuable information, and that Mr. Bentley no doubt knows where Grave Hollow is. I think Mr. Kendall's description in last week's Leader was very good.

Hand me my gay agenda, please

I got kind of a kick over the weekend out of this short YouTube clip of a sweet couple named David and Paul getting hitched by an Iowa judge in an Iowa courtroom in part because it illustrates two items on that fearful gay agenda preachers and others love to fuss about: A soldier (repeal of DADT; check that one off) marrying his boyfriend (marriage equality; a work in progress).

Golly, how scary is that? Desires to (a) serve, fight and perhaps die for one's country and to (b)  form a lifelong committed state-sanctioned relationship with someone else, deeply loved.

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The vicar had a burr under her saddle Sunday about one of those studies, not exactly sure which, indicating a decline of some sort in faith's place in American life. I think it may have been the Pew Research Center's recent survey of the state of religion among millennials (those who came of age about 2000).

Among the findings: One in four adults under 30 is "unaffiliated" --- self-describing as atheist, agnostic or nothing in particular. That's pretty amazing --- not the number of unaffiliated; but the fact 75 percent still consider themselves affiliated.

An equally shocking conclusion: Only 68 percent of millennials never doubt the existence of God. Only? This finding seems to be a fairly good indication that religious people also can be damn liars when it comes to answering survey questions. Don't think I've ever run into anyone of any degree of devoutness who hasn't doubted --- if only briefly --- at one time or another. It's part of the human condition.

My guess would be that the numbers of unaffiliated doubters will increase, but that's largely a factor of organized religion's inability to deal in any sort of useful fashion with the "other." And "other" seems to be subdivided into two categories: the naturally occcuring (at various times for more or less conventional Christians, Jews, black people, women and now --- among others --- LGBT people) and those cast out (dissenters, free-thinkers, recipients of new revelations and the like).

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But back to that gay agenda, here's a link to author and commentator LZ Granderson's exploration of his own --- as well as an assessment that gay lifestyle we've all heard so much about. It's rather long, so I'll summarize: The U.S. Constitution sums up the gay agenda. And the gay lifestyle, for non-Mormons at least, begins most mornings with a cup of coffee.

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As far as my own agenda for the day is concerned --- laundry, two meetings, various phone calls and that grass, which because of the rain is growing again. But it's going to be very hot, high of 97 degrees predicted, so maybe I'll take a subversive gay nap instead after lunch.

The ecumenical possibilities of Jell-O

I'm headed for a church potluck today, bearing a large bowl of orange Jell-O to which orange juice concentrate, mandarin oranges and crushed pineapple have been added. Frustratingly, my mother's recipe for "mandarin orange salad" has vanished, so this formula came from the Internet. I'm a little nervous.

In the interests of safe car-pooling. the suggested fluffy topping of Jell-O instant pudding and Cool Whip, also a Kraft Foods product, has been eliminated. Yes, I know Hy-Vee produces slightly less expensive generics of all three foundational products. But I'm a gelatinous fundamentalist.

As an adherent of a highly-liturgical expression of Christianity, I try to live by a self-imposed rule that the Jell-O served at a church potluck  be of the proper color for the liturgical season, now green since the passing of Pentecost and the return to ordinary time. But there wasn't time yesterday to melt and blend into lime Jell-O the marshmallows, plus Cool Whip, needed for "green magic" so this will have to do.

Don't recall ever attending a church potluck, from Roman Catholic to Unitarian Universalist, fundamentalist Baptist to Community of Christ, at which Jell-O was not served. We can't agree on the nature of the sacraments, the authority and authenticity of various holy scriptures and the magisterium, what it means to be "born again" and all sorts of other things, including how to deal with the "other" when the "other" declines to be poured into our favorite molds.

But we do seem to be united on the merits of Jell-O, suggesting that this might be the place to begin our ecumenical efforts rather than fussing about other stuff. I'm even willing to bend the seasonal color stipulation.

Yes, I know that gelatin generally is derived from animal products best not thought of while enjoying aspics and lemon Jell-O with shredded carrots and pineapple. And that causes difficulties for vegetarians, vegans and others. But most kosher gelatins are vegan and both agar agar and carrageen, based upon seaweed rather than boiled bones, are available. So there is hope.

Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with Jell-O.

By the way, if you eat any ready-to-serve Jell-O product --- say those little cups of pudding or fruited desserts --- you're tasting Iowa. They're all produced in a Kraft Foods plant in Mason City. Really.

All is well ...

Nickerson descendants gather at the Chariton Cemetery Friday just before dedication of the monument around which they're gathered.

Friday was one of those days that affirms faith on several levels --- in family, in faith itself and in the near-miraculous ability of everything to just work out.

The occasion was a gathering in Chariton of descendants of Mormon pioneer Freeman Nickerson and his wife, Huldah Chapman Nickerson, to dedicate a new memorial in the Chariton Cemetery to his memory. Nickerson was the senior member of a family party locked in for the winter of 1846-47 at Chariton Point on the trek west to Utah. He died here that January.

One hundred and sixty-five years later, nearly 60 of his descendants (counting spouses) began to gather at the Lucas County Historical Society Museum campus at mid-morning. Some had driven in cross-country from such diverse places as Utah, Indiana and Pennsylvania. Others had flown to Des Moines, Kansas City and Molene and rented vehicles.

At least three families on flights to Des Moines from Salt Lake late Thursday ended up in Minneapolis because of fierce weather over Nebraska and parts of Iowa, spent a restful night in the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport terminal, flew to Des Moines Friday morning, jumped into rented cars and arrived unruffled in time for lunch.

About noon we gathered in the barn for lunch --- kind of a loaves and fishes experience since there was exactly the right amount of food --- sandwich components from Piper's, fruit and vegetable trays from Hy-Vee, all wonderful.

I was so busy talking that I neglected to take a photo of lunch until after most already had moved back out onto the lawn, so I picked this view because it flatters the barn (sorry). Getting the barn back in order after years of use as a shop during blacksmith shop construction in time for three consecutive weekends of events, commencing with the Nickerson gathering, has been a major undertaking. Bill, bless his heart, even mopped the floor --- waay above and beyond the call of duty.

Several volunteers helped out prior to and during the gathering but I'm not going to try to name them because I'm sure to forget someone.

After lunch, we gathered in Otterbein Church for a program that included brief presentations by family members as well as myself and John Pierce, Lucas County's "pioneer" in the search for the precise route of the Mormon Trace through our county and the legends related to it. Here are several photos of speakers during the program.

Kevin Johnson, instrumental in organizing the event at Chariton from a considerable distance --- Utah --- provided the introduction.

Linda Beckman spoke about the value families gain from remembering their forbears, speaking among other things about the simple pleasure of discovering among the papers of her late father detailed hand-written instructions for playing simple pioneer games.

My friend Maxine Rasmussen is the author of "A Ripple in the Pond: The Life Story of Freeman Nickerson and Huldah Chapman." Sales of this book helped to fund the Nickerson monument. Maxine is holding a component of Otterbein's authentic air conditioning system.

Steven Lund, of Provo, also was among the presenters. With the legs of flights home from a business trip included, his trip to Chariton may have been the longest.

John Pierce brought along several conjectural paintings of Chariton Point and other places along the Trace as they might have looked at about the time the Nickersons were passing through.

After the program we drove out to the cemetery for dedication of the new monument. This was the first opportunity for most to see it. Clouds were beginning to gather as the program finished, then the shower began. I told the Nickersons they had broken our drought. And it was really kind of approriate, since Iowa mud is a familiar collective memory of the great move west.

After the program, with rain falling now and then, we drove down the Mormon Trace to visit the DAR Chariton Point monument and Douglass Pioneer Cemetery, where Freeman Nickerson and others in his party who may have died here, are we believe buried. Consideration had been given to placing the monument at Douglass, but because the location is a little obscure and the entrance is across private property, it was decided to place it in the Chariton Cemetery where any who pass this way in the future will be able to locate it easily.

It began to pour as we stood on the rise at Douglass and for some reason that seemed to make the moment even more meaningful.

Finally, after driving to the courthouse square to see the Mormon Trace markers there, family members headed on down the Trace toward Nauvoo, where a reunion of Nickerson descendants begins at noon today and will continue until Tuesday.

I don't think I'm telling secrets --- it doesn't take that much to move many Mormons to tears. And while I'm just an Episcopalian with Mormon roots, this is the song that gets to me, the great anthem composed during the early spring of 1846 by William Clayton while camped with the pioneer party on Locust Creek in Wayne County. The program at the cemetery closed as we sang it and the rain began to fall.