Where the snow meets the sky.
Iowa. Northeastern Iowa to be more specific. It’s the frozen tundra. The place old man winter lives and reigns supreme. “Colder than a well diggers nappy” as the Australians say. But the Aussie’s have never experienced cold like this. Many folks right here in America have never experienced this Iowa cold, except maybe Minnesotans and Wisconsinites.
This ain’t your regular “gripe about it to your neighbor” cold. This cold lingers. For days, weeks and months. And as it lingers, life keeps moving up here. They don’t stop for the cold. The elementary school children bundle up and walk to school in negative temperatures. The old men still get up at 4am and head out to the local diner for biscuits and gravy. People brave roads so snow and ice covered that they don’t even look like roads to get to work, doctor’s appointments, the grocery store and beauty appointments. The parking lot of the bowling alley is full, as is the parking lot of the movie theater. They don’t view 2 feet of snow and -22 degrees as a hardship. This is their life.
But the weather is not the first thing I took notice of here in the Hawkeye State. The people are. These folks are as tough as nails and as warm as hot cocoa. They are kind and welcoming, excited to see a new face and make a new friend. They are quick to lend a helping hand and always willing to go the extra mile. I had the recent privilege of being invited to an American Legion chili supper. “Oh, did ya get a tenderloin sandwich?” one lady asks in her distinct north midwestern accent. “Hey, what broughtcha all the way up here from Florida?” an older gentleman stops by my table, “You let me know if you need help shoveling outta your driveway now, eh?” “Do ya need some extra crackers?” a young boy is walking around holding a box of crackers bigger than he is, making sure everyone has enough and goes out of his way to make sure that we have enough, since we are the newbies.
Everyone knows everyone else, so they obviously know we are new. But they go out of their way to make sure we don’t feel awkward. Every single person stopped by and introduced themselves and said “We’re awful glad you’re here. Did ya get enough to eat?” There was no yelling, except that of laughter and merriment. There was no fighting. There was no swearing.
Just pure midwestern Friday night fun. As Americans, we love to book vacations at the beach. But maybe, just maybe you should book a trip to the Midwest and meet some of the finest people in our great country. Discover one of the many quaint little towns and step back in time 30 years.
Eat at a local diner. Find an alehouse and go in for an ice cold glass of dark brew. Go to an American legion. Drive along country roads and marvel at the thousands of acres of farmlands (it’s where your food comes from). Drive over the bridge in St Louis and see the Arch lit up. Go see the wonder that is Lake Superior. You won’t regret it.
If you come in the winter, pack your long johns.