Bridges of Madison County

 

We weren't starring in a big-screen romance. But we did have our own moment on The Bridges of Madison County.

A couple of weeks ago, Randy and I traveled to Iowa for a National Master Farm Homemaker convention. We enjoyed a visit with Jill's in-laws - Alan & Christy Ladd - in Atlantic, Iowa. It was more than bed and breakfast since we got supper, breakfast and lunch ... plus an after-supper tour and lots of good conversation.

Randy is used to my frequent requests for photo stops. Alan was willing, too, but I found it hard to translate the rolling 3-D hills to my 2-D camera screen.

 Iowa farm ground is so different from the flatlands of Kansas where we farm.

 

It was beautiful in a whole different way.

The next day, we went to church at the Atlantic United Methodist Church. 

It was nice to sit in the pews and not be responsible for the music or anything else.

Ceiling glass at Atlantic UMC

But back to the bridges ...

As we were driving from Atlantic toward Des Moines on Highway 92, I saw the Madison County sign. And I didn't want to come all the way to Iowa, drive into Madison County and not see the famous bridges.

Randy reminded me of our less-than-successful search for covered bridges near Morehead, Ky., when Brent worked there. But when we drove by the sign for the Roseman Covered Bridge, I again pled my case, and Randy turned around. 

There was no mileage sign to our destination. And after we drove down a twisted gravel road, we were beginning to have deju vu from our Kentucky search. But after 4.3 miles, we arrived at the Roseman Covered Bridge. 

As it so happened, two other travelers were there at the same time, so we swapped cameras and took photos of each other. Bonus!

Built in 1883 by Harvey P. Jones and George K. Foster, the Roseman Bridge is 107 feet in length and sits in its original location. It was renovated in 1992 at a cost of $152,515. In Robert James Waller’s novel, The Bridges of Madison County, and the movie of the same name, Roseman is the bridge Robert Kincaid seeks when he stops at Francesca Johnson’s home for directions. It is also where Francesca leaves her note inviting him to dinner. 

There's also a connection to Eric's family at the Roseman bridge. Christy said her maternal grandpa, Roy Hatfield, and his family grew up south of the bridge. His initials and his brothers' are carved in the bridge. The last time they visited, they could still find the initials. (I didn't look.)

 

Christy says her Great Uncle Frank was interviewed when the Roseman Bridge came to fame after the release of The Bridges of Madison County movie.

I saw the movie and read the book, but I could probably stand to do both again after our visit. 

Also known as the “haunted” bridge, Roseman is where two sheriff’s posses trapped a county jail escapee in 1892. It is said the man rose up straight through the roof of the bridge, uttering a wild cry, and disappeared. He was never found, and it was decided that anyone capable of such a feat must be innocent.

Though only six covered bridges remain, there were many covered bridges that once dotted Madison County in the early 19th century - all built by local bridge builders, with each builder utilizing his own engineering design that uniquely separated the various construction styles of Madison County's six covered bridges still standing today.  

Many still ask the question, "Why did they cover the bridges?" They were covered to protect them from the weather and extend their longevity. In 1870, the Board of Supervisors adopted new rules for bridge construction that includes the required that they be covered, siting that "the expense of the roof is more than made up by the permanency of the bridge." The bridges ranged in cost from $900 to $1,900. One historian quipped, "Bridges were covered for the same reasons women wore hoop skirts and crinolines - to protect the beauty seldom seen, but nonetheless appreciated." These remaining covered bridges paint a story of pioneer people who took what they had and did the most with it. These structures ... are a tribute to the generation of pioneers who left a land better than they found it and leaves to us a link with a romantic past.

From the plaque at the Roseman bridge

The bridge spans the Middle River, which eventually empties into the Des Moines River near Carlisle in northern Warren County.

We only had time for one more bridge before we needed to leave for me to get to my meeting. It was located in the Winterset, Iowa, city park, and honestly, we had more trouble finding that bridge than the one 4.3 miles down a dirt road! My Google maps kept leading us astray. Randy had to do it the old-fashioned way and stop for directions.

Built in 1870 by Eli Cox, the Cutler-Donahoe bridge is 79 feet in length and features a pitched roof. Originally located over the North River near Bevington, it was moved to its present site in Winterset’s City Park in 1970.

I got a photo of Randy at that bridge ... and then I couldn't resist a photo of him by the Bridges of Madison County display at the State Historical Museum of Iowa in Des Moines, one of our tour locations during the convention.

Meryl Streep and Clint Eastwood weren't the only movie stars with an Iowa connection.

One of my favorite museum areas was Hollywood in the Heartland.

There, I couldn't resist a photo in front of a scene from one of my favorite musicals, "The Music Man." I had to text that one to my brother, who had the starring role in high school.

Since we'd just seen the pro baseball game played at the Field of Dreams on TV, we were also interested in that display.

Photo by Millie Dearden (her photo turned out better!)

We did have meetings in Iowa, too. Here's a photo of the Kansas ladies who attended.

Steep Learning Curve: A Tour of Iowa's State Capitol

 

There's nothing like a 97-step climb up steep stairs to make you appreciate a view.

From the top of the dome, you can see some of our group in the center quadrant of the photo.

The Iowa State Capitol was one of the tour stops during the National Master Farm Homemakers convention in Des Moines.  I'm the current president of the Kansas chapter, so it was part of the job description to attend.

However, the trek to the top of the dome was optional. And, at first, I thought I'd skip that part. 

But peer pressure is real - even among ladies of a certain age - so up the winding stairs I trekked. (Plus, Randy was going, too, and I didn't figure he'd take photos ... or wouldn't take photos to suit me.)

View down the stairwell from the top of the dome

Ultimately (once I'd caught my breath), I was glad I made the hike.

From the top of the dome, looking out at the flagpole

 The view was beautiful from bottom to top.

From the floor level

Looking up from floor level

The Iowa State Capitol was fashioned in the influence of Renaissance Revival, which looks to 15th century Italy for inspiration. This was a common architectural style for public buildings in the 19th century. It is the only five-domed capitol in the country. 

It may look like wallpaper (in the bottom right photo) but it's actually hand stenciled.

There's no shortage of fancy!

The law library - wow!

The staircase mural Westward (above) is a massive work that is “a symbolical presentation of the Pioneers led by the spirits of Civilization and Enlightenment to the conquest by cultivation of the Great West,” according to its artist Edwin H. Blashfield.

Directly above Westward is a series of six mosaic panels that depict Defense, Charities, the Executive, the Legislative, the Judiciary, and Education. (The one below is Defense.)

Above is a closeup of one of the mosaics. 

From that level, I looked across the way and saw a quote.

"Where law ends, tyranny begins."

It was just one of many quotes that made me think that day - and since that day.

I love words (obviously) and quotes. These were words that the people of that time thought were important enough to etch into one of the most iconic buildings in their state.

While the tour guide at the Iowa Capitol building was telling us all about the USS Iowa model, I looked up and saw this quote stenciled there:

 Nothing is politically right which is morally wrong. 

Daniel O'Connell (1775 - 1847), an Irish politician

 

Politicians today could stand to have that included in their oath of office. 

Other quotes stenciled onto walls or etched into plaques included:

Education is a better safeguard of liberty than a standing army.

Edward Everett, American statesman (1794 - 1865)

 **

 

No free government, or the blessings of liberty, can be preserved to any people but by a firm adherence to justice, moderation, temperance, frugality, and virtue, and by a frequent recurrence to fundamental principles.

Patrick Henry, Founding Father (1736-1799) 

**

Courageous confidence in the intelligence of the community is the sure sign of leadership and success.

 G.W. Curtis, American writer

**

The ideal state – that in which an injury done to the least of its citizens is an injury done to all.

Solon, Greek philosopher

I couldn't help but think about those quotes again as I watched a Youtube video my sister, Darci, sent me last Saturday. It was about the Boatlift of 9-11, in which ferries, tugboats and private boats of all kinds and sizes came together to evacuate people from the island of Manhattan after the terrorist attacks.

Neither of us had ever heard about this endeavor. Compare it to Dunkirk, in which 339,000 British and French soldiers were evacuated in nine days during World War II. (There's been a movie made about that.) On 9-11, 500,000 people were rescued from Manhattan by boat in less than 9 hours. 

I paused the video a few times and wrote down quotes from some of the heroes who responded that day. They didn't look much like heroes. One looked a little rough around the edges with missing teeth. Another didn't have the physique that we've come to associate with our super heroes.

But they were heroes nonetheless:

"You forget all about what you're supposed to do, what they teach you at school, and you say, 'You know what? Morally this is the right way to go and deep down, this is what I'm going to do.' "

"When the American people need to come together and pull together, they will do it."

"I believe everybody has a little hero in 'em. You gotta look in, and it's in there. It'll come out."

As we were leaving our Capitol tour, I snapped a quick photo of the Capitol from the outside - and marveled that just a short time before, I was up in that dome and that flying American flag was the one in my photo from there.

I wrote the bulk of this blog post on 9-11. I decided I needed to quit watching TV midway through the morning because it just made me so sad. As I worked on the blog post, I edited the photos and saw the American flag in several of them. I again read the quotes that I was so struck by during the tour. I had liked them enough that I'd paused to pull my camera away from the glittering chandeliers and the mosaic floors and the opulent furnishings to "click" the words with my camera shutter.

In a world - and country - that seems increasingly divided, I hope we can take those words to heart - the words immortalized on grand buildings - like the Iowa Capitol - and those uttered from everyday heroes - those people who answered the call on 9-11.

I know they are worth remembering for me.

More Than Meatloaf

 

What do 15 pounds of hamburger, a dozen eggs, oodles of oatmeal, some ketchup, evaporated milk and assorted spices make?

It makes a whole lot more than meatloaf. It - along with a table full of homemade sides - is a love gift for grieving families from our church family.

On Saturday, I organized my second funeral dinner for the church. I've helped with dozens of these dinners, but I'm not typically the organizer for them. I'm certainly not a stranger to organizing meals or special events from bridal showers to youth dinners to 4-H fundraisers to PTO soup suppers to Core meals ... the list goes on and on.

But our new funeral dinner leader was out of town for the Labor Day weekend. And I just couldn't let the Stafford Methodist Meatloaf tradition down for this particular lady.

We were celebrating the life of Wanda. A few years ago, she was bound and determined that she'd make it to the 200 funeral meal mark, each detailed in the 3-ring notebook she carefully propped onto the huge stainless steel island in the church kitchen as she prepared funeral meals. Once she reached that mark, she evidently thought it was time to turn over the notebook to someone else. 

 

At about the same time, she handed me a business-sized envelope after church one day. She had my name as the addressee and her name in the return. It included her "formula" for Methodist Meatloaf, as well as the number of salads, potatoes, cakes and French bread loaves it took to serve anywhere from 5 to 130 people. I stuck it in the back of my calendar, knowing I had that resource at my fingertips if ever I needed it.

 

I must admit: I didn't follow her meatloaf recipe to a "T," but I sure used it as a guide to convert my own recipe. And I did use her calculations for how much of the "extras" to ask for from other congregation members.
 

I joked on Saturday that I may get met at the Pearly Gates some day by disgruntled Stafford UMC ladies already in Glory. I used disposable tableware to speed clean-up on a holiday weekend. (And, truth be told, I'll do it again if I'm called to duty for the job. It made the clean up so much faster!)

 

Are there sunsets in heaven? I don't know, but I can imagine the beauty. (Sunset 9-8-21)

 

And Wanda may greet me to give me the "what for" about the ketchup bottle on the serving table. Wanda would definitely not approve. When she was in charge of the meal, family members would sometimes come into the kitchen and ask if we had ketchup. She'd say, "There's ketchup in the meatloaf." (However, we didn't place the ketchup on the table for her husband's funeral dinner. And one of her own family members asked for it. I just was saving a step on Saturday, or so I'd like to believe.)

The funeral service was in the church sanctuary, while we prepared the meal in the kitchen downstairs. I imagine that the smell of baking meatloaf was as much a benediction for Wanda's family as the closing prayer.

 

Our lives are a Christ-like fragrance

rising up to God.

2 Corinthians 2:15

 

I've always loved this quote attributed to Teresa of Avila:

 

 Christ has no body now but yours. No hands, no feet on earth but yours. Yours are the eyes through which He looks compassion on this world. Yours are the feet with which He walks to do good. Yours are the hands through which He blesses all the world. Yours are the hands, yours are the feet, yours are the eyes, you are His body. Christ has no body now on earth but yours. 

Teresa of Avila 

One of my favorite Bible passages -- I Corinthians 12 -- talks about all the parts of the body being important and working together. 

 

It takes "the body" to accomplish a funeral dinner .. all those people who say "yes" when asked to bring a salad or cake, help set up or clean up or accomplish the myriad of other behind-the-scenes tasks needed.

 

Yes, it takes all of us, using our God-given gifts to do the work of the church or the community - whether that's a funeral dinner, school music, sports, 4-H, Scouts, Chamber of Commerce, the county fair, food bank ... the examples are endless. And so are the opportunities.

That's Lit! (As the Kids Say)

Sunset, August 25, 2021, looking north, panorama view

As a kid, do you remember hearing the three chimes at the beginning of an NBC television program: "Ding, ding, dong ... The following program is brought to you in Living Color on N B C"? If you were a child of the 1960s, I'm guessing those tones went off in your head in perfect pitch as you read that phrase.

I didn't hear the three familiar tones as I glanced out my kitchen window, but the gold-tinged clouds did prompt me to throw on a pair of tennis shoes and drive down the road for an unobstructed view.

Sunset, August 24, 2021, looking west

I'm used to looking west for my sunset shots. In fact, the night before, Randy called me from the tractor where he was spending yet another evening discing. "I think it's going to be a good sunset," he told me. He rarely steers me wrong, so I made the drive to the corner south that evening.

Sunset, August 24, 2021, looking west

But my kitchen window is toward the north. So I wasn't expecting the sunset show to appear there. And, yet, it did.

I wish I'd passed by a few minutes earlier, since the sun was sinking fast and the reflection on the storm clouds was about to fade by the time I made my way outside. But it was still worth the trip.

Sunset, August 25, 2021, looking north

It was kind of like Gomer used to say on the Andy Griffith Show, "Surprise, surprise, surprise!" (Speaking of old-time television. And that show was on CBS for the record.)

Image from Closer Weekly

That fading light in yet another of God's natural masterpieces viewed from the Kansas plains had me thinking again about the power of light. 

Before school started in August, I ordered "Jesus is the Light and the Way" flashlights for the worship committee at church to hand out to students and school staff for a Blessing of the Backpacks segment in our morning worship.

In 2015, our former pastor Ben Hanne wrote about light. I'm not sure whether it was in a pastor's column for the newsletter or what, but I saved it at the time because I liked it so much. (I did get his permission to print it here:)

From a technical standpoint, visible light is all about energy.  Click on your favorite flashlight (you do have a favorite, don’t you?) and you’ve ignited a source of energy that illuminates your surroundings as photons bounce off everything in its path as long as you have it turned on. Cool, huh? Light banishes shadows, clarifies our perception and can even generate sensation. (Think about the warm light of a fireplace versus the chill light of a walk-in cooler.)

The first chapter of the Gospel of John declares Jesus to be our true light, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it…The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.” Thinking in technical terms, it suggests to me that God sending us the light of Christ is a lot more like a flashlight than a one-time gift.  God’s love and power continues to radiate towards us every day, it banishes the shadows of our fears and clarifies our perceptions.  The light of God remains firmly pointed at you, sending the gift of Christ continually.

May you walk in the true light of Jesus Christ, allowing it to illuminate every corner of your experiences.  In that light there is hope, energy and salvation - forever and always - as a gift from God who is…

Ben Hanne (former Stafford UMC pastor, now at Hillsboro UMC)

Here's praying I see the Light of Christ in nature and the people around me ... even on those challenging days when it seems the flashlight is firmly in the off position.

Some days, that's easier said than done, I know. Yesterday, we made the 8-hour trip home from Des Moines, where - as president - I was representing Kansas at the National Master Farm Homemaker convention. We got home to the air-conditioner not working, the hired man not working and a shattered window in the door of our loader tractor. "Welcome home to us!" I texted our kids.

But you know what? We had gotten safely to our destination and back. We had a good time while there. Our small town business responded last night and got us cool again. (We need a new AC, but that's another story. I was just glad to have the house cool again for now. Thanks, Meyer Electric!) Randy was able to go directly from carrying things in from the car to an evening session (and then morning session) on the tractor. And Case can get a door in four days ... Well, we'll see about that on a holiday weekend, but at least one is supposedly available in a time when parts can be hard to come by. 

There's always Light to be seen ... if only I look for it. May the Light illumine me ... no matter what.