The Magicless Normalcy of The Corn Palace, and Other Notables from Iowa

Day Three: Travels with Wally and Company: 1988

Day Three — June 25, 1988 Newton, Iowa to Oacoma, South Dakota

We slept soundly during the night.

I woke up refreshed. The sun broke through the horizon. No sleeping in on this trip! For miles, the sky was clear, bright, and blue. Loose layers of scattered clouds hovered gently in the pregnant air. I wore a jacket to breakfast. After a quick bowl of cold Lucky Charms, we hit the highway at 7:45 and continued west along route 80.

Route 80 had become our constant.

Around 11, we passed through Des Moines, Iowa. Shortly afterward, we headed north on Route 29. What, a new road? Once we approached Omaha, Nebraska, we spotted, to our left, the beautiful Missouri River.

For miles, the road paralleled the river.

All of these places which I had read or heard about in school or in the news were actually becoming part of my life. In the afternoon we entered the city limits of Sioux City, Iowa — a name famous in our family. My grandfather, Dick Thomas, who wrote the hit song “Sioux City Sue,” was popular in the 40s.

The song helped the city gain popularity. It felt strange being in the city and feeling like a semi-celebrity.

My mom Susan Bowne was named after the song.

Anyway. We exited the freeway and traveled into the city and stopped at Hardee’s for lunch. Although most of the people were dressed the same as we were, there were quite a number of notable exceptions — many “Cowboys” roaming about or for that matter pseudo-Cowboys. They dressed in the rustic clothing of the wide rim leather boots with fancy western insignias inscribed on their belt and a buckle.

And, of course, the plaid shirts.

From Hardees, my mom called grandma and grandpa back in Southwest Philadelphia. She thought they’d get a kick out of calling them from “Sioux City.” My mom wanted the address of the lady who corresponded with her dad about his song. We didn’t have her telephone number. Our time was limited so we made time instead to venture into South Dakota before setting up camp.

Around Sioux Falls, the land was still cornfields, stately silos, and huge balls of hay scattered about the plains. All along the road, signs promoted the one and only “Corn Palace” in the town of Mitchell.

Since it was on the way, we decided to stop, not knowing what to expect.

Finding a place to park was difficult, but I imagined the place was swamped with tours. Did the entire town revolve around this corn palace? It was similar in design to the Civic Center back in Philadelphia. The outside, however, was decorated all in corn cobs and husks and actual kernels.

Every year, the decoration is different. The town has been doing this since the early 20th century. Once inside, it was like any old arena — with a few exhibits, a gift shop, and a restaurant.

Nothing spectacular.

We continued west and made the last push of the day, finally crossing the scenic Missouri River and entering Mountain Time.

Didn’t that sound so much better than Eastern Time?

We gained another hour. We finally stopped in Oasis Family Land Campground in Oacoma, South Dakota. The weather was warm. Once again, I headed straight for the heated pool. Would any young women be around?

Alas, dear reader, no.

At six o’clock, mom prepared dinner while I read poolside. Mom and Noelle went to Al’s Oasis, down the road to buy a few things. Dave wasn’t feeling well. He stayed back of the camper and rested. When mom got back, I found she had a cache of peach wine coolers. It was just the thing I needed after a long day of driving.

Just before the sun dipped over the horizon, we piled into the family Ford ‘truckster’ and drove to a “scenic overlook” situated high on the banks of the Missouri River. We had a panoramic view.

The sun changed the landscape — magically — like the Greek god Helios is known to do — so many different shades blended together in perfect harmony. The land around us was peculiar: strange hills appeared as if we were on the moon — only a grassy moon.

At sunset, Dave and I explored a trail. It led down to the river, but we didn’t have time to reach the shore. I snapped a few pictures as that Greek god fell beneath our feet.

It was close to 9:30 when we got back to the camper. While the others got ready for bed, I headed for an evening “dip.” As I floated in the growing darkness, I thought of what was ahead.

Three days of straight driving is taxing. Tomorrow was a short drive to the Badlands, and then to the Black Hills of South Dakota.

It was great to be away — away from school work and away from home — and away from responsibility. I stayed in the pool as night closed around me — revealing the heavens and the stars and eternity.

Not a bad way to spend an evening, eh?

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