Leslie Across the USA

Iowa (I'm trying to think of something clever to say...)

I didn’t want to like Iowa. Unfortunately I don’t know anyone in Iowa, so I didn’t really have a reason to stop there. And, their “Welcome to Iowa” signs were placed so that I could not take a picture of my car in front of them without causing a serious accident. One bad thing about Iowa: It looks just like Nebraska. Fortunately for Iowa, the good outweighs the bad. The good: There are more big cities in Iowa than Nebraska. Walnut, Iowa, the antique capital of the state. is a charming little town that looks like the kind that only exists in the movies. It has a few more hills than Nebraska. And, the best part about Iowa is that all of the rest areas have wireless internet access! If I hadn’t been in so much of a hurry to get to Illinois, I could have stopped every 50 miles or so to check my email, update my blog, order movie tickets, and shop at amazon.com, if I’d wanted to. But, I had to get to Urbana, Illinois, to see my cousin Juppy (Melissa’s mom) in time for dinner. As I drove, my cell phone rang, and it was my buddy Kate. She was calling to get Melissa’s mom’s phone number because Melissa had mentioned Kate could stay with her mom while in Illinois. I told Kate that I did not think it would be a problem, since I was staying with her mom that night, too! So, Kate and I crossed paths once again on our trip. Juppy had us meet her at a gas station, and then she took us to Channing-Murray, the Unitarian organization on the campus of the University of Illinois. We went to her and Melissa’s favorite Mexican restaurant for dinner, and we stuffed ourselves silly. Back at the house, I showed them my pictures from my trip so far, and then we gratefully went to bed for the night. Both Kate and I slept in (I was still running on Mountain time), but I finally woke up when Kate asked me what the siren was that we could hear blaring across town. It sounded just like the tornado siren I’d heard in North Dakota, and Kate asked me if I thought there was a tornado. I looked outside at the bright sunshine and gently swaying trees, and I assured her there was no tornado. I thought maybe it was like when they test the air raid siren/fire whistle in Milford every Saturday morning at 11:45 a.m. (not sure if they still do that, but I remember it strongly from growing up). We checked the TV (Melissa, you MUST get your mom a new TV!) and The Price Is Right was on, so I figured that if there were indeed a tornado, then the local news would surely interrupt Bob Barker and his price guessers. The siren stopped, so we figured it was a test. We went to make breakfast, and then the siren started again! I was certain there was no tornado, and I found out later that it was some kind of test, for the local civil defense or something like that. Anyway, after breakfast, we parted ways again, and I went in to the University to visit Juppy at work. Then, I said goodbye and headed for Detroit, my next destination!
Detroit was not far, only about a six hour drive, but I lost an hour as I crossed into Eastern time, so it was more like seven hours. I was to meet up with my dad’s buddy Gib for dinner. Dad had lived in Detroit for many years when he worked for GM. I had not managed to make it there while Dad was alive, and I was regretting this very much. Truthfully, I had never thought Detroit was a very interesting place to visit. I’d heard so much about the terrible crime in Detroit, and it’s so cold there in the winter – what could there be to see? Turns out, I was completely wrong about Detroit. I finally got there at around eight p.m. and Gib directed me to a restaurant in Troy just outside the city. I had not met Gib since I was a baby, so I didn’t really know what he would look like, but I found him without trouble. I was supposed to stay with him that night, but his mother-in-law had just died a few days before, so his house was full. I was just so grateful that he was able to meet me for at least dinner that I didn’t mind getting another hotel for the night. We had a wonderful time at dinner, and he shared with me lots of stories of what it was like to be friends with my dad. I wish I’d had more time to spend in Detroit, and one thing I definitely need to do is make a trip there to stay for much longer. I asked Gib if there were tours of GM, but they don’t do them anymore. So, I decided to spend the next day at the Henry Ford Museum, which is called simply, “The Ford.” It was absolutely amazing.
The museum is huge, and I really could have spent two days there. I have to say, it was a particularly emotional museum for me. First, it was filled with cars, buses, planes, trains, and other moving vehicles. So, I naturally wished I could have gone there with my dad. I spent most of the time choking back tears, to be honest. The emotional punch was increased when I saw the actual limousine in which Kennedy rode when he was shot, Abraham Lincoln’s chair from Ford’s Theater, and the bus where Rosa Parks refused to move to the back. As I walked on to the bus (yes you can get on it) I got pretty choked up. It was amazing to be there, and the story of how The Ford rescued and restored the bus was interesting. They went through extensive research to determine that this was indeed the very same bus on which Rosa Parks made her historic refusal. The bus was destined for a junkyard, but the museum came to its rescue just in time. That is the great thing about this museum – they rescue bits of Americana that perhaps no one else can.
That is how the Greenfield Village part of the museum came into existence. Henry Ford was pretty much obsessed with all things American and he wanted to make a place where American History could be preserved. I know that sounds like every other museum’s purpose, but there is something kind of magical about this museum. In Greenfield Village, Ford has placed a number of iconic buildings from American History. He has Thomas Edison’s Menlo Park complex, including the building where he invented the light bulb and one of the homes he selected to demonstrate his new invention. There is the home of the Wright Brothers, and you can even sit and chat with them and their sister if you want (thanks to costumed actors). There’s Noah Webster’s house, where he wrote his first dictionary. And, when Robert Frost was a visiting professor at the University of Michigan, he lived in an adorable little Greek Revival home, which is also at the village. Ford even preserved his favorite teacher’s home and his one-room schoolhouse! I hope one of my students wants to enshrine my home someday. The most humbling part of the museum, and the place where I was again choked up and had chills running down my spine was where Ford preserved some rare examples of slaves’ quarters from a plantation in South Carolina. You can sit in the small homes, which housed anywhere from three to ten slaves at a time, and listen as the stories of seven slaves are played through a speaker. It’s sad and scary and chilling, and was an experience I’ll never forget.
I could not see everything I’d wanted to, so I must return someday. For now, though, I have great memories of Detroit.
(photos: Slave quarters, Rosa's bus, welcome to Michigan!)

posted by Leslie @ 10:00 AM