Garden Road - September 20, 2016 A few weeks ago, I took my children to the Prairie Trails Museum of Wayne County in Corydon. It was a traumatic experience for my two-year-old daughter Jasmine. Everywhere she turned there were mannequins. She trembled as I held her, and cried to be let down. Finding this did not assuage her fears, she cried to be picked back up by her father. I tried to carry her to a safer, non-mannequin area, but there is no such haven in the museum. Five minutes was enough history for Jasmine. Sep 19, 2016, 09:49
Garden Road - September 13, 2016 There are a few objects and ideas that escape our notice. They are eclipsed though we try thoroughly to see everything. From my brother Grant and sister Angela, I learned at an early age zero degrees Kelvin was the coldest temperature in the universe. That is the theoretical end when molecules remain completely still. Thus, the concept of absolute zero became a sentimental memory for me, no different than watching the first snowfall in late autumn, or the smell of the Christmas tree after my father hewed it down and brought it to stand on our hardwood floors, illuminating the darkest part of the year by electric candlelight, the same as Shane Hill burned yellow and red by autumn, or watching a calf being born in my grandparents’ red barn. Though I have never seen absolute zero, it is in my heart and mind as a core memory. Thanks to my siblings and their teachers, to this day, I am still an elementary school student in our living room imagining the concept of that stillness. Sep 12, 2016, 09:17
Garden Road - September 6, 2016 In the past, Labor Day has sent me both north and south. My brother Grant used the weekend as an excuse to drive far away from his work, where they often confined him to a cubicle. I tagged along during his escape attempts. Sep 6, 2016, 10:13
Garden Road - August 30, 2016 First days of school stick with you beyond the grave. They wipe their eyes and light the stove for the coming winter, for the impending decades. Children lace up shoes they just learned to tie. Under green ash trees, a sapling oak and the Chinese elm, we smile with baby teeth, waiting for the bus to climb the hill and idle near the mailbox. The temperature gets stuck in time, too, dangling from a garage with peeling white paint. There are always belladonna lilies with pink stamens and blue edges suspended on stalks, and garden spiders strung across weeds waiting to catch grasshoppers and sunlight. Aug 29, 2016, 09:47
Two bricks near the Wayne County Freedom Rock, one for the late Hal Greenlee, who served veterans in southern Iowa faithfully for many years, and the other for James Wesley Selby. Photo by Jason Selby
On Aug. 16, Brant Schmell poured sand on the Wayne County Courthouse square in Corydon, leveling bricks around the Freedom Rock. Brody Eldridge assisted. They swept away the excess with a broom like in a Zen garden.
I got the call to go take the photograph, and when I pulled into the parking lot, the song playing on the radio was Creedence Clearwater Revival’s ‘Fortunate Son.’ Part of the inspiration for the tune was lead singer John Fogarty watching David Eisenhower and Julie Nixon get married and knowing the war in Vietnam would not touch them: “I ain’t no military son.” Aug 22, 2016, 09:21