It doesn't seem to matter that I now have a lease and an apartment and a kitchen with a crock pot, the Driveabout spirit lives on.
Google Maps routed me on I-88 across Illinois for my trip to Omaha, which meant that I drove by the town of Dixon, boyhood home of Ronald Reagan. The Vue barely needed me to direct her as we veered off the interstate onto Highway 26. She knew. Plus she's completely bipartisan and more than willing to see historical sites about Republican presidents, even those who exploded the national debt.
Ronald Reagan and his family (mom, dad, older brother) moved to Dixon when he was 9 years old, in 1920, and lived there for three years.
It's a nice house in a pretty neighborhood full of similar well kept homes. One thing that is different about the Reagan property, however, is that there's a statue.
You can see that Reagan is holding something in his hand. For reasons that are explained as Illinois having a lot of corn, the plaque states that he is holding kernels of corn. Yeah, I'm not sure I get that, either. But check out the plaque.
Can you see in the fourth line down how the word "its" was initially misspelled, with an incorrect use of an apostrophe? Someone has attempted to correct the mistake, but I still winced when I saw it. It's frustrating when an organization cannot get its grammar straight. For some reason this has always been my grammatical pet peeve and if they ever put up a plaque about me they better spell "its" correctly or I will come back and haunt the earth until it's corrected.
Sadly, I couldn't tour the house because it was Sunday morning and they don't open until 1 p.m. But I had seen another sign for the John Deere Historical Site and thought I'd check that out. That more than made up for not being able to see Reagan's boyhood bedroom.
When I started the Driveabout last fall, I stopped by the Mississippi River on the way to Omaha, just to stretch my legs and touch the river which I had never done. Getting back to I-80, if you don't plan to retrace your steps (which I only do if the alternative is certain death), is quite a production and you drive through East Moline which is as lovely a town as you'd think. But my point here - and I do have one - is that you drive by a bunch of John Deere plants, some of which are still operating and some of which aren't.
So it seemed appropriate, somehow, that I would randomly come across the place where John Deere first settled in Illinois when he and his family moved from Vermont in 1836 to open a blacksmith shop and invented the first successful steel plow in 1837. (In 1848 Deere moved to Moline to be nearer the transportation options afforded by the Mighty Mississippi.)
If the birthplace of one of the greatest inventions in American history (my opinion) isn't enough to entice you, perhaps you will be lured by the thought of visiting a place called Grand Detour, Illinois. Had I known that name ten months ago, the Driveabout might have been called the Grand Detour, but it's too much trouble to change the URL now so we'll stick with the Driveabout. Wikipedia doesn't explain why it's called Grand Detour - the story has to be interesting, don't you think? - but it turns out Orson Welles spent some summers here and the area was something of an inspiration for Kane's recollection of his idyllic childhood in Citizen Kane. Rosebud!
Anyway, back to John Deere. Deere's granddaughter, Katherine Buttersmith (great name!) inherited part of the property in 1919 and started buying up the rest so that what is now owned by the John Deere Company includes the Deere home, the area where the shop was located (which is being excavated), a neighbor's house (needed for the gift shop) and a replica blacksmith shop.
It is the replica blacksmith shop that is the coolest part. I love watching craftspeople work, and ever since I took metal shop in seventh grade with Mr. Eastlack (Mom might still have the dandelion digger I made her, which will outlast nuclear winter), I've especially loved watching metalwork. And Rick, the blacksmith, was fantastic.
He is originally from southeastern Texas so still has a bit of a twang. As he described the parts of an anvil, he pointed out that the hardie hole is square (it's where you put different type of hardie tools) and then there is a round hole. He said in the north that is called a pritchett hole, but in the south they call it a round hole. And he would tell very hokey little jokes with the kids in the audience that were fun. For instance, what happens when you put a white rock in the Red Sea? It gets wet. Or at one point he asked the kids to think of a number between 4 and 6. Very entertaining and he showed us how the craft works which was very interesting, even though I'd seen some of this type of work before.
One of the guys on the tour was from Tasmania and he'd been to the site three times. Sort of a John Deere groupie, I guess. Of course he had a green cap.
In case she reads this, I want to mention that our tour guide's name was Janet and she was excellent. It's hard to compete with a guy who says things like "that sizzle is what it sounds like when hot metal touches your skin, except you can't hear it over the screaming." But within the limitations of her genre, Janet did a great job.
The Rock River is beautiful and the area must have some very interesting history since there is a Bloody Gulch Road and a Lost Nation Road, but that is for another day and I got back on Interstate 88 to continue on to Omaha, Center of the Known Universe.
Plus I wanted to stop at the Herbert Hoover Presidential Library and Museum, which is about 50 miles west of the state line, in West Branch, Iowa. I had planned to see this in December, but road conditions prevented me from making the stop then.
Interstate 88 ends at I-80 on the Illinois side of the Quad Cities. At that point you are about six hours, or a little less, from Omaha.
Of course, that timetable presumes that the Mississippi River bridge isn't closed. A few minutes before I came upon the scene apparently a semi and three cars collided, fortunately injuring no one, but they shut down the entire bridge for two hours. Of course, I didn't know any of this at the time - and had I foregone my Grand Detour I would have avoided the whole mess, but where's the fun in that? It took nearly an hour to go less than two miles, and I must say that the State Police in Illinois did as poor a job of traffic control as I have ever seen. They made us all exit, of course, at the Mississippi River Road exit which was perfectly reasonable but there were no signs or police to tell you what to do after that, and if you've ever been at that exit you will know that the answer is not obvious. (Plus they didn't even keep traffic from entering the interstate - truly these guys need some lessons from their friends in Iowa, who did seem to have a clue about how to deal with a major traffic headache.)
However, since this was the same place I had gotten off in November (see above), it all seemed vaguely familiar and I wound my way through East Moline, by the vacant lots and the public housing and the rundown industrial buildings, and eventually got onto I-74 which took me to I-80, this time west of the Mississippi so I was able to actually use my accelerator which was a nice change of pace.
Unfortunately, by then I had lost all interest in seeing the Hoover Library. Poor Herbert was once again overcome by events. Sort of like his presidency, come to think of it.
In June the big event in Omaha was the College World Series. This week it is Goldnerpalooza. Check your local listings.
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