Heavy rain overnight, drizzle most of the day today. We gassed up, got coffee, and headed north into Iowa. Our first stop was in Clarinda, where my father, Don Parkins, lived from 1917 until the late 1920s. My grandfather, Bill, worked at a tire and battery store. He had a motorcycle dealership in Jackson, MN in 1914, but moved the family to Shenandoah in 1915 to work as an auto mechanic, and again in 1917 to nearby Clarinda. At thirteen, in the winter of 1927, Don delivered the Clarinda Journal, a twice-weekly newspaper.
The town was larger than I imagined, the Page County seat, with the business district in a square surrounding the magnificent courthouse. My dad had written that the town was hit with a tornado in 1926 that destroyed 30 homes and damaged businesses, including the KSO radio station. We chatted with an older woman in the antique shop about the town history. She recommended a bakery down the street; the cinnamon rolls were very good. Then we were off toward the freeway, 100km farther north.
All day we passed road signs pointing to towns where my Wartburg classmates had come from, more and more as we got closer. Interstate 80 took us east to Des Moines, and Interstate 35 took us north (signs for Minneapolis, 300km). But, we turned east again at U.S. 20, toward Waterloo, then north toward Cedar Falls west of Waterloo. Finally, we merged with highway 218, a familiar route, but there were no 4-lane roads when I was here last, 50 years ago. Waverly, too, was unfamiliar until we reached the old bowling alley, then the intersection with highway 3. The hole-in-the-wall diner where we went for egg and cheese sandwiches in the middle of a long study night was still there, under a new name, but the corner tavern across the street was now a memorial park.
The college campus, too was familiar, but not familiar, with many new buildings and reconfigured streets. We found our lodging without too much trouble, having searched for the clues with Google street view a few days ago. After unpacking the car and chatting with our hosts, we went for dinner at The Dirty Dog, a sports bar recommended by them. A build-your-own pizza satisfied the vegetarian requirement, and Judy selected the BLT, a favorite of hers when the veggie guy isn’t cooking.
