US Tour Week 3: MN WI IL

2006-10-16

Dear Friends,

Thursday Sept 21, toward Minneapolis MN:
Every morning is a slight re-pack, and that is my gift to the team on this tour. I don't actually think that 5 people could travel in a VW camper on such a trip without someone being completely military about things going back in their places every day. I must have had a military past life, because it is my pleasure to find the right place for everything and get it there. However, I'm sure it was perplexing to Jill Warner to find me with much of our trailer's contents spread out on the cold, sun-lit lawn this morning, as she drove up to take me out for tea in downtown International Falls. A re-pack and trip to the post office took most of our tea-time, but we did have a great lunch at a cafe most wonderfully called "Chocolate Moose"!

Samuel Black wrote to me to invite us to Duluth last spring, describing himself as the music director and caretaker of First Congregational Church of the city. That seemed like a kind of diverse job description - until I met him. To add to his intriguing self-description, Samuel is Jewish and teaches religious studies at the college north of the city. A collector of impressions, information, resources, insights, he was keen to meet us and make musical connections. And, like our other hosts, he was most interested to talk about his town and to hear about Canada, its politics and impressions of its southern neighbour. Neighbor, I mean.

The rain was beginning to come down in large, resolute handfuls after supper as we popped the top of our camper behind the church, on the border of a forested hillside. Passing Nicole and Isaac over to Emily for the evening, we performed for a small and very keen audience. It was a fine evening, broken only once by the appearance of Isaac right in the middle of the spotlight, where he lay on the carpet and greeted us jovially in his red pyjamas. I saw Emily on the sidelines and imagined her pained dilemma: should I barge in and pull him out or see if this drama ends and we can leave for bed without fanfare..? Afterward, as the departing line of people drew past us to the refreshments, a man effused: "You folks should be performing for thousands!" "Yes, we should!" I replied, but added - sincerely, "But, I'd rather perform for a small group of good listeners than a large crowd that didn't care..!" (Read: Linnea's well-crafted gracious response). He looked at me, poised for a moment in thought - and then shook his head as if tossing off a hat that did not fit. "Naaa! You should be performing for thousands!" Love it.

We arrived at Sally Sneve's house in the late-night drizzle. Her home, perched on the hillside, peered out over seemingly the whole city and harbour of Duluth, where the lights of the boats and streets hung like jewels in the fog. We are unbelievably rich.

Friday, Sept 22: toward Minneapolis:
From our hillside perch, we could see the performing arts centre, the ore ship that is now a museum on water, and our choice of other Duluth attractions. But, when Sally passed us over an admittance coupon to the Great Lakes Aquarium, that decided it. The morning was spent learning about the aquatic life in the great lakes - we touched a fresh water stingray! - visiting the animals in the rescued birds areas (wounded creatures who would not survive in the wild again) and operating model locks in hands-on waterplay. Isaac was very taken with a bald eagle named Bogey (broken wing from not managing his first flight, they figure). He has called himself "Baby Eagle" periodically ever since. ("Baby Eadul")

We made it to Minneapolis, rolling up in front of Beth and Ernie Cutting's front yard of flags, a windmill and a small tractor. All of this, of course, was our first clue that we were home. Now, if you are an avid reader of the Little Camper on the Prairie series (vol 1), you will notice the striking similarity of their last name with our Sweet Home, Oregon host: April Hall Cutting - who called her in-laws when she learned we were heading to the Twin Cities with nowhere to stay. I had already had a sense that Minnesotans were honourary Canadians; maybe it was because of Garrison Keillor's stories over the years, or maybe from escaping rumours. But, a week before we arrived, Ernie had already written me a full page letter of things I should know were within throwing distance of their home in Minneapolis - from museums to stores to historical and natural sites of priority.

Saturday, Sept 23, Minneapolis-St Paul:
So, we were treated to a grandparent weekend with a room full of toys (no tv) for the children, big farm meals and drives through the tight streets of the cities. Beth, who is a grandparent and a parent educator herself, was good company after 3 weeks of "togetherness" on the road. She took me to the local Farmer's Market and large consignment store (a perfect Saturday morning for ME!) in a break in the cloud that I had hoped indicated sun to follow.

Ernie dropped the bunch of us off at our respective museums - David and Isaac at the Children's Museum for hands-on discovery and Patrick and Nicole and me at the Science Museum of Minnesota, where we had heard (and seen on many billboards in town) that there was a special exhibit called: Body Works. Now. How to describe this display when I know some of you read this Tour Letter while eating...

The display is of real human bodies, in various forms of action, with different parts of their anatomy removed by chemical processes, so that others are exposed. A skeleton stands with a briefcase, showing off the human bones in action in a work day. A body stands with skin removed and muscle intact (preserved through a process that, at least in some cases, permeates tissue with a kind of plastic). Nerves are exposed in the chess player, as he sits studying his chess game. A man is poised, slowly spinning on a platform, in a tai chi move - his muscles taut. A case shows various organs - healthy, normal ones with their sick counterparts - with a special focus on smoking and the colour and effect it gives to lungs. A grand finale has a man and horse triumphantly in full stride - each with muscles pulled back in a ripple effect away from their many limbs, and the man holding aloft his own heart in one hand and the heart of the horse low in his other. The whole display was absolutely riveting - and either you could go to it and see it as an educational event or I suppose be sickened or horrified at the very thought. Certainly the intent was the former and it succeeded with us 3. But, David and Beth were in agreement that it sounded educational... and definitely something they did not need to attend!

When Ernie picked us back up, it was with the intention that we would all fulfill Linnea's tour dream and attend Garrison Keillor's street dance and meatloaf supper outside the Fitzgerald Auditorium. But the rain was coming down in a consistent patter by then, so I was ready to call it off. Nothing doing. Ernie and Beth led us full-steam to the small, blocked off street where the Fitzgerald sits, and where a huge stage had been set up, cold musicians warming up for a later latin gig, and tent-rooves had been generously placed over the long church-tables along the alley. We sat in our raingear, across from each other, trying to listen to the outdoor broadcast of Keillor's A Prairie Home Companion while others talked (obviously not the huge fan I am!). We eventually sent the guys over for the meatloaf when we learned it was to be found at a booth nearby. Well, it was rainy and we sat slightly immobilised by the contrast between the imagination and the reality of the evening, but for some reason it was simply enough to be there together. I wanted to laugh at the picture of us semi-soggy and tucking into mashed potatoes, a slice of meatloaf and a buttermilk biscuit. It was Minnesota. It was Garrison Keillor. It was an event whose timing actually fit ours, for once. It was the first rain they had seen in weeks..! Too funny.

Sunday September 24 Minneapolis:
Plymouth-Macalester United Church had a very familiar feel to its worship and children's programme - both of which our family attended with Beth and Ernie. A large city church with multiple staff and a focus on faith-in-action, it felt much like my old congregational home of Ryerson United in Vancouver. The children's programme leaders were very flexible in allowing David and me to take some of their children's time in a singing opening - and later were happy to have us carry on with preschool leadership in what they call their "Enrichment" time. Then, David and I acted like lounge players and serenaded the congregation at coffee hour. To my delight, little children whirled and danced as we played hymns and lively tunes for our tea. Ernie drove us through the elegant, brick-building streets of St Paul on our way home, stopping to point out F Scott Fitzgerald's heritage house, the cathedral of St Paul, the childhood home of Charles Schulz - an apartment over what would have been his father's barber shop on a street corner. The downtown streets are filled with individually painted Snoopy-on-Doghouse figures.

We gave our hosts the afternoon off and went swimming at the Y. That's two Sundays in a row, and by church standards that makes it a tradition. And even though that should have been enough, the kids and David went out with Ernie to Minnehaha Falls in the evening - on a race with the sunset. David says the falls were wonderful. I now understand that Minnehaha is the mythical lover of Hiawatha, of HW Longfellow's creation. She and Hiawatha stand in statue form at the park. The race that was driven out by European settlers in the mid eighteen hundreds has been replaced by a fiction whose name seems to pervade all parts of town - Hiawatha Insurance, Minnehaha St...

Monday, Sept 25 toward Wisconsin:
I figured if we didn't leave by Monday morning, Beth and Ernie would never get anything done again in their lives. So, we packed ourselves up with tea and snacks, travel directions, the necessary photos taken in front of the Minnesota flag, windmill and miniature tractor. By the next time I collected e-mail, Beth had written to reassure me that our kids had been wonderfully behaved and caring of one another on the visit. Ernie had written a full page of the things we hadn't got around to doing on our trip and why we needed to return.

Although we had not set out to do so, it occurred to us that we could manage a slight swerve away from our route and drop into Pepin - the site of Laura Ingalls Wilder's first home in Little House in the Big Woods. The map put out by the Pepin Historical Society advised us that the house no longer existed but that there was a marker in town near the Pepin Museum to mark her part in America's history and literature. After having read the series through with Nicole, I consider her one of the US's most important writers. As I read out a quote from a letter she had written to a child in her latter years, I surprised myself by choking up at her words: "The 'Little House' books are stories of long ago. The way we live and your schools are much different now; so many changes have made living and learning easier. But the real things haven't changed. It is still best to be honest and truthful; to make the most of what we have; to be happy with simple pleasures and to be cheerful and have courage when things go wrong." I suppose her books capture my yearning for a way of life when people lived by their abilities, frugality and in communion with nature.

We sailed on through the winding, green mountains and fields of Wisconsin until we decided to try out a campsite from a campground association membership we had been gifted with by the Stolearcius family, back in Summerland. The sign out front said, encouragingly: "Start relaxin' now!" which I promptly decided to do. However, when we drove in, its spacious campsites under tall coniferous cover were almost completely vacant. Staff had cleared out at 6pm - 18 minutes before. Our cellphone was dead and - to be quite repetitive - suddenly our van would not re-start. Well, the kids piled out and began to play on the playground equipment as we grown-ups thoughtfully considered our options. One was to pop the top and sleep in the campground driveway - and as I was about to suggest it to David, he popped the van into reverse gear, coasted backward down the slope of the drive and jump-started the darn thing. One problem down - for now.

Night closed in and the temperature plunged, so after dinner we gathered up our dishes, shared our one flashlight to the bathrooms and tucked back into our little nest for the evening. David played guitar by battery light for awhile; so much better than heinous-crime-tv for bedtime relaxation. Of course at daybreak, the van wouldn't start again, but.. that's tomorrow.

Tuesday Sept 26 to Chicago:
So, while David tried the inevitable, I went to pay at the office for our unauthorised stay. Of course no-one minded that we were customers and to my surprise, when I showed that were members of the camping association (which gives members a discount on a points and cash system I have not understood yet), the woman at the till said, "Of course. That will be sixty-eight cents." That was a better deal than I had expected!

So, I pushed, David de-clutched and the van coughed to a start and we puttered off toward Chicago with the sure knowledge that a trip to the VW repair shop would be on the itinerary. This premonition was reinforced a few times along the route and when we finally bit it at the highway toll booth into the city, I luckily had the webpage of the local VW repair guys, complete with map of their locations.

Steve answers the phone with an accent that is, at the once, Chicagoan, Polish and Mechanic-ese. It is 3:30 and they close at 4:30, but yes, they'll take a look at our electrical system. He then proceeds to give me slightly wrong directions in to town. We end up taking a very cramped and scenic downtown route to the repair shop, arriving near closing time. Steve stands in the VW exhaust, looking in at our engine, pronouncing it a starter problem. Now, like most mechanics I have known, he clearly would rather been talking to David, but given that DJ's and my marriage vows included that I deal with all issues involving either conflict or graceful begging, I needed to hang in with the conversation, anyway. David talked tech, I planned a morning drop-off of the vehicle; I hardly understood a word he said.

It was dinnertime and we were thrown off by the urgent stop. And yet the fact that the van hadn't yet been repaired made us nervous to go anywhere and stop the engine... We finally called it. We HAD to eat dinner. So, we did at a nearby Thai restaurant, wherein the caged animals - I mean our children - ran around, fooled, played and were loud until we left in frayed embarassment. Sigh; we LOVE Thai food. A passerby became the next helper on a long list, and after we had pushed the van into action, we drove about town looking for a hotel on what became evident was a baseball game night (read: no rooms). Slightly out of town was a Best Western hotel whose services we have been using all across the continent for wireless (godblessthem) with a room for us, so we drove up to it. In the US's second largest city, I can certainly understand why we call highway systems arteries. We were a little cell of iron pulsing up the blood vessels of the great body of Chicago.

How the children have longed to stay at a hotel! Alas, they were all 3 asleep when we arrived. We transferred each into his/her third of the bed, closed the door and crashed.

Wednesday, September 27 Chicago & Western Springs:
Still, it was a little bit exotic for the children to have their breakfast in the hotel lobby the next morning, with bulk dispensers of cereals, a coffee/tea/hot chocolate machine and a tv blasting out the late-breaking local news. Seems that the big event of the day was that the city's first Wal-Mart was opening up in a less-than-affluent part of town. Clearly, the prospect of 350+ new jobs opening up at a minimum of $10 an hour was good news to the community. However, reinforcing a US stereotype, the item became a nebulous mix of news, entertainment and free advertising by Big Business when it carried on into an actual on-location check-in all morning. Needless to say, the only news that could be reported was the great prices in the hardware department.

David and I, after clever late-night planning, had worked it out that he would take the Steve-shift and I would take the Goojos (short for the Jonsson-Good clan). Deej left early in the morning (the van started!) with everything including the children's pyjamas before they woke(!) and we others left a little later to take the train in to town. This is brave of me, because Isaac bolts from time to time and train tracks do make a mom think twice. However, it was a beautiful day, sunny with only slight clouds, and when the train rolled in, we discovered that it was double-decker! Guess where we sat.

I suppose if I had known really how long the walk would be from the train station to the museum, I might have planned to take more transit, but I was so pleased to actually be out on our own on the streets of Chicago. And everybody walked! Our route took us right past the Sears Tower, to my delight. A mother gave me the passing advice to take my cellphone out of the exposed outer pocket of my backpack. We sat on the lawn of the Museum of Science and Industry and ate Thai leftovers and rested our various bones.

The MSI is one of the highest regarded museums in the US, they say. As always, we were forced to identify a couple of areas that we would visit because you can't visit them all. We chose to visit the full-size SUBMARINE that is housed in the building, first! We also spent time watching the scale model train that ran through different regions of America - and to identify the terrain we recognised. I have a new awareness of how the US was connected by the train system. And you do hear trains running through the town and country more often than we do in Canada, now, too. I have never understood why a train system cannot thrive in a long country like our own..! The children visited a small toy factory area, where we watched the automated assembly of a modern version of a spinning top. If we had wanted to, we could have paid in advance and watched our own top being assembled - with computer screen reports about the completion of "YOUR" casing, etc. (Mom's thinking to herself: Like we need a spinning top in the camper van..!)

David met up with us in the museum, reporting that the van was repaired with a new starter. He and Steve had bonded and David is sure he got a special deal by virtue of his having handed spanners to the "boss" all morning. We dashed out of the museum hardly having cracked most of the exhibits.

Jan Fraccaro had bravely offered to host a Nancy Reeves-Linnea "God Detectives" concert on relatively short notice, and her good-natured e-mails had us looking forward to meeting her face-to-face. When we arrived at First Congregational (United Church of Christ) of Western Springs , Nancy hadn't arrived from her flight from Toronto yet, but we knew this was the usual for Nancy's tour which had taken her around the United Kingdom before coming to us. As we were braving the winds of Wyoming, the lightning of Nebraska and the circumlocution of Minnesota (kidding, friends!!), she was reflecting in the abbeys of Edinburgh and London.

It was wonderful to be welcomed in by Jan and her team and to have Nancy walk in the door a bit later. Nancy and I put our heads together to formulate a quick plan about the evening and our hosts fed us famous Chicago pizza. Five minutes before the hour of our concert, the great wooden walls of the sanctuary were echoing with the almost complete absence of human bodies. Then, just as I was about to stride in and announce that Nancy and David and I were giving our concert to the hosts and the mice anyway ... the door burst open and a flood of bodies, small and big, poured through. Jan says theirs is called the Church of the Holy Last Minute - or something like that! And what a wonderful audience they were. With great all-ages singing and kid-energy for story-listening, they shared a wonderful night with us.

David parked the van up on the First United walkway. We camped overnight - a little van kneeling at the church door.

Blessings friends,
Linnea

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