"There’s always going to be that distance between us and the people with deep roots." Thank you for this insightful perspective. I often find myself jealous of the people who stayed in my hometown. No matter how long I've been in a place, nobody knows me as "Tonya's daughter." It's a layered experience with challenges and opportunities.
I feel the same about my hometown sometimes - then I have to remember the reasons I left! I think you nailed it when you said it's a layered experience. Thank you for commenting.
Suzan, I was so overwhelmed by your piece. Now, first and foremost, I really don't understand what this format is....think I may LOVE it....but almost deleted the Calling the Plumber because I am getting so many political emails of late, and am so not able to play in that mean spirited arena right now, that I pretty much delete any emails that are not clearly from someone I know. Thankfully, I had a moment of jumping in and am so very glad that I did!
Now, I think of this area so very differently than you do. I was born and raised here, My dad grew up about half way up the road that you live on now, the lane to the right as you drive up the hill, across the road from a house and the lane always with a locked gate. Dad was one of 12 children. When he came home from WWII he had a wife and her ailing parents to house and a life to start. My great uncle, a bachelor, offered Dad the opportunity to farm with him and share the house. It was an 80 acre farm. Dad inherited the house following my great uncle's death. Mom drove to work in Iowa City every day, after Dad's stroke, but living on a farm without a farmer wasn't a doable life. Bob, the man who lives directly to the west of Wayne on the main road, bought the house from us somewhere around 1966. Bob continues to live there. I miss living there, I feel that it is home.
I had always heard stories from my Irish grandparents and uncles, Irish story tellers, about when their grandparents moved here....talk about transplants, they all came at different times from Ireland. I was told that Cedar Valley made them think of Ireland and that was why they settled here, laughing at how they had to travel over so much nice, flat land that could be easily farmed to come to these rolling hills to settle. Wayne and I share Great Great Grandparents, (meaning that my maiden name would also be on your abstract (and I would SO love to know who exactly it was).
I think that there was more community spirit in this area when I was young, and certainly when my dad was young...but I feel that community was of necessity. There was much need to be close to your neighbors, much need to be dependent on each other, and today's society does not seem to like to be dependent on others. There was a much lower income level here in those days. I think that dependency is what makes some of what you call roots in a community. As I say, I grew up right in the area you live in, and only know a VERY few people who live there now. I know NO ONE on your road except for Wayne, and only know him now because he is a relative. I know the man who lives in "my" house, I have worked for years to maintain a friendship with him, and it has been a truly ongoing effort of working at keeping that friendship alive. The vast majority of those I am in contact with are at St. Joseph's Cemetery. Have you ever noticed two old women sitting at St. Joe's of a Sunday evening in any kind of good weather? My cousin Marsha (Wayne's oldest sister) and I try to meet out there every Sunday evening that weather or urgent commitments do not interfere with. My great grandparents, my grandparents, my brother, my sisters, my aunts and uncle, as well as Marsha's parents, grandparents, and great grandparents are all buried there. And so many happy memories. We went to church there, sang in the choir, the poor priests having to drive out from Davenport to say Mass there on a Sunday morning at 9 AM.... except for Christmas Eve when was Mass was at Midnight, those same priests having to do the late night drive. We had to fast from midnight on for Communion on Sunday morning, and following Mass my parents would take my brother and I to the store at Cedar Valley where we would pick up the Sunday paper and where Jake (the store owner) would provide my parents with a wonderful spiked 7-up to mellow them for the day (at a cost, of course, even bad whiskey wasn't free).
I need to stop, I still am unsure of the actual permission to respond here... just want to mention the lovely sight this last summer beside the cemetery at the top end of your road, Wayne is renting the church property for a crop and this year he planted OATS. I almost cried when I saw that was the crop. I hadn't seen oats growing where I could touch them in years. We always had oats when i grew up. I loved them to the degree that i still have a bouquet of Oats on the window sill in my kitchen here in Tipton.
Oh Maureen, what a wonderful essay in and of itself! Thank you so much for this. I love it. Yes, I once stopped by to see you folks at the cemetery. I was taking photos of one of the awe-inspiring sunsets and someone said, "We come to visit with our relatives here." I thought that was so beautiful. That may have been you or Marsha but yes I've seen you folks out there. I hardly know anyone on Franklin too but that's because there's been more turnover than I would've expected, in the Beranek place, the one on the corner by Wayne and at the old Campion place by the river. At this rate, we'll be old timers soon! But never locals...
I agree about poverty and community - when you can't afford to buy your own tools or equipment, you tend to interact more with your neighbors! I think that's the soullessness of the suburbs and it's slowly getting transplanted out here. It felt good to be able to offer to our new neighbors to plow their drive or teach them how to forage for berries, paying forward kindnesses we experienced when we moved here. But I think it's a dying mode of being, sadly.
SO glad to hear about the oats!!! Progress!! Hope you'll come visit this summer.
Good article, Suzan. My experience, as an East Coast transplant to a small Iowa city is that there are people who have been here since childhood and those who transplanted that will always be outsiders in some way. My aunt experienced that when she moved from the metropolitan NYC area to semi-rural Massachusetts, too. This phenomenon you describe is everywhere.
And yes, when people transplant, they do change the nature of the area, and many people are resistant to change - especially those whose families have lived in areas for generations. Who among us doesn't want our environmental to remain familiar, known?
On the other hand, the nature of life is change. The nature of growth (hopefully for the better) is change.
You improved the environment with your prairie and orchard – a positive change from corn, corn, corn, and corn. With some soybeans thrown in too.
This is what I hope for when I look around me and see how we've made such a mess of agriculture in our state. The nature of life is change. That someday this state will grow and fix this mess through positive change. One can hope, right?
Agreed Diane! We hope and we also work toward it. I do hope people beyond Iowa transplants see the truth in this dynamic and share with their friends. Thank you - hope you're staying warm. It's easier this week!
"There’s always going to be that distance between us and the people with deep roots." Thank you for this insightful perspective. I often find myself jealous of the people who stayed in my hometown. No matter how long I've been in a place, nobody knows me as "Tonya's daughter." It's a layered experience with challenges and opportunities.
I feel the same about my hometown sometimes - then I have to remember the reasons I left! I think you nailed it when you said it's a layered experience. Thank you for commenting.
Suzan, I was so overwhelmed by your piece. Now, first and foremost, I really don't understand what this format is....think I may LOVE it....but almost deleted the Calling the Plumber because I am getting so many political emails of late, and am so not able to play in that mean spirited arena right now, that I pretty much delete any emails that are not clearly from someone I know. Thankfully, I had a moment of jumping in and am so very glad that I did!
Now, I think of this area so very differently than you do. I was born and raised here, My dad grew up about half way up the road that you live on now, the lane to the right as you drive up the hill, across the road from a house and the lane always with a locked gate. Dad was one of 12 children. When he came home from WWII he had a wife and her ailing parents to house and a life to start. My great uncle, a bachelor, offered Dad the opportunity to farm with him and share the house. It was an 80 acre farm. Dad inherited the house following my great uncle's death. Mom drove to work in Iowa City every day, after Dad's stroke, but living on a farm without a farmer wasn't a doable life. Bob, the man who lives directly to the west of Wayne on the main road, bought the house from us somewhere around 1966. Bob continues to live there. I miss living there, I feel that it is home.
I had always heard stories from my Irish grandparents and uncles, Irish story tellers, about when their grandparents moved here....talk about transplants, they all came at different times from Ireland. I was told that Cedar Valley made them think of Ireland and that was why they settled here, laughing at how they had to travel over so much nice, flat land that could be easily farmed to come to these rolling hills to settle. Wayne and I share Great Great Grandparents, (meaning that my maiden name would also be on your abstract (and I would SO love to know who exactly it was).
I think that there was more community spirit in this area when I was young, and certainly when my dad was young...but I feel that community was of necessity. There was much need to be close to your neighbors, much need to be dependent on each other, and today's society does not seem to like to be dependent on others. There was a much lower income level here in those days. I think that dependency is what makes some of what you call roots in a community. As I say, I grew up right in the area you live in, and only know a VERY few people who live there now. I know NO ONE on your road except for Wayne, and only know him now because he is a relative. I know the man who lives in "my" house, I have worked for years to maintain a friendship with him, and it has been a truly ongoing effort of working at keeping that friendship alive. The vast majority of those I am in contact with are at St. Joseph's Cemetery. Have you ever noticed two old women sitting at St. Joe's of a Sunday evening in any kind of good weather? My cousin Marsha (Wayne's oldest sister) and I try to meet out there every Sunday evening that weather or urgent commitments do not interfere with. My great grandparents, my grandparents, my brother, my sisters, my aunts and uncle, as well as Marsha's parents, grandparents, and great grandparents are all buried there. And so many happy memories. We went to church there, sang in the choir, the poor priests having to drive out from Davenport to say Mass there on a Sunday morning at 9 AM.... except for Christmas Eve when was Mass was at Midnight, those same priests having to do the late night drive. We had to fast from midnight on for Communion on Sunday morning, and following Mass my parents would take my brother and I to the store at Cedar Valley where we would pick up the Sunday paper and where Jake (the store owner) would provide my parents with a wonderful spiked 7-up to mellow them for the day (at a cost, of course, even bad whiskey wasn't free).
I need to stop, I still am unsure of the actual permission to respond here... just want to mention the lovely sight this last summer beside the cemetery at the top end of your road, Wayne is renting the church property for a crop and this year he planted OATS. I almost cried when I saw that was the crop. I hadn't seen oats growing where I could touch them in years. We always had oats when i grew up. I loved them to the degree that i still have a bouquet of Oats on the window sill in my kitchen here in Tipton.
Oh Maureen, what a wonderful essay in and of itself! Thank you so much for this. I love it. Yes, I once stopped by to see you folks at the cemetery. I was taking photos of one of the awe-inspiring sunsets and someone said, "We come to visit with our relatives here." I thought that was so beautiful. That may have been you or Marsha but yes I've seen you folks out there. I hardly know anyone on Franklin too but that's because there's been more turnover than I would've expected, in the Beranek place, the one on the corner by Wayne and at the old Campion place by the river. At this rate, we'll be old timers soon! But never locals...
I agree about poverty and community - when you can't afford to buy your own tools or equipment, you tend to interact more with your neighbors! I think that's the soullessness of the suburbs and it's slowly getting transplanted out here. It felt good to be able to offer to our new neighbors to plow their drive or teach them how to forage for berries, paying forward kindnesses we experienced when we moved here. But I think it's a dying mode of being, sadly.
SO glad to hear about the oats!!! Progress!! Hope you'll come visit this summer.
Good article, Suzan. My experience, as an East Coast transplant to a small Iowa city is that there are people who have been here since childhood and those who transplanted that will always be outsiders in some way. My aunt experienced that when she moved from the metropolitan NYC area to semi-rural Massachusetts, too. This phenomenon you describe is everywhere.
And yes, when people transplant, they do change the nature of the area, and many people are resistant to change - especially those whose families have lived in areas for generations. Who among us doesn't want our environmental to remain familiar, known?
On the other hand, the nature of life is change. The nature of growth (hopefully for the better) is change.
You improved the environment with your prairie and orchard – a positive change from corn, corn, corn, and corn. With some soybeans thrown in too.
This is what I hope for when I look around me and see how we've made such a mess of agriculture in our state. The nature of life is change. That someday this state will grow and fix this mess through positive change. One can hope, right?
Agreed Diane! We hope and we also work toward it. I do hope people beyond Iowa transplants see the truth in this dynamic and share with their friends. Thank you - hope you're staying warm. It's easier this week!