Over the many decades that I have roamed this world, I have found that when it comes to travel there are two kinds of people; those that bee-line it straight there, who count the journey in lost hours and spent money, in shortest routes and cheapest fuel … and those who opt to take the road less travelled, who regard such journeys as somewhat of a challenge to extract as much enjoyment from the voyage as they can fit into the day – each day, until their destination is reached. And in America there is a lovely word for such overt optimism.

It’s called, appropriately enough ‘The Great American Road Trip’, and today’s post sheds light upon an experience Kris and I enjoyed recently while travelling back from a town called Cedar Rapids, in Iowa, where I had just delivered some sculpture, and were now meandering back to our Kansas home … the long way, down what we used to call “Blue Highways” back in the day; the ones the freeways all but killed off, that run parallel to the rushing Interstates, that offer small towns and oddities every dozen miles or so, that make one “slow down and smell the roses”, as it were. And this particular road was meandering us down and along, up and over the rolling hills of Iowa’s famous Corn Country: pretty as a picture, on a gloriously sunny day. When all of a sudden, I spotted a sign – interesting sign that had me pulling a U-turn a quarter of a mile later, as I realized the opportunity this sudden apparition had presented: breakfast and a rather unique roadside attraction. And it didn’t disappoint, by any means. In fact, it quite made our day, as I hope these pictures will convey.

~ Big John ~

The town was called, interestingly enough, Brooklyn. Brooklyn, Iowa? Fancy that! But we hadn’t yet even reached the town proper when the object of the highway sign loomed into view – or rather HE did. Yes, the big man himself: right there by the side of the road, locked and loaded, staring down all newcomers to town: “The Duke”. The one and only John Wayne, rifle in hand, beckoning us over, perhaps for a chat, perhaps to wish us a “Howdy Partner”, or to warn us of potential baddies holed up ahead in town. But, whatever. We thought it better to stroll over and meet the man, and boy, was he big. I mean really, really big. Much bigger than he looks in his movies, but kinda nice and smiling, like … well, like you would imagine Big John would be in real life.

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Behind him stood the house he spent his high school years in before his father shipped his family off to California … something to do with his asthma, apparently. And the rest, of course, is legendary.

~ Please click on photo to enlarge ~

~ what a real, nice guy ~

And so, after a nice lengthy chat, one or two photos and a wave goodbye, we were off into town to see what Iowa’s version of Brooklyn, New York, could possibly look like. Granted, we were off to a good start, but such roadside attractions can often be misleading … the bait doesn’t fit the hook, kind of thing.

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But low and behold we were in for a shock. Not only did Iowa come up trumps, it presented a prospect fast diminishing in the hinterland these days: a quite lovely, tidy neat and appealing little high street right off the canvas of a Norman Rockwell painting. Flags were flying, cars were angle parking, no dogs were barking, and everything was harking to a time before Walmart and Amazon ripped the heart out of towns like these all across the country, and particularly here in the Great American Midwest. It appeared as some sort of miracle; a mirage. Not real, somehow. And yet, here it was, beckoning us to park up and take a look around. And first up, right in front of the Silverado was a diner right out of Hollywood central casting. Breakfast!!! Things were rapidly shaping up.

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~ Spotless and beautiful … the diner of my dreams ~

Not to disappoint, after such a welcoming arrival, stepping inside ‘The Classic Deli and Ice Cream Shoppe’ was like entering an emporium to good taste – and ‘tasty’ was certainly the theme of the place. The staff were smiling and friendly, healthy, charming and (it must be said) good looking. Attractive and shy, the wait staff appeared to be riding out the gap between the breakfast and lunch rush, and much in the way of tantalizing gossip seemed to be passing between the girls as silverware received ample and enthusiastic polishing. But the amount of time that elapsed before our hash browns, eggs and bacon appeared seemed to suggest that the line cooks had broken their breakfast set up prior to our arrival, but never-the-less allowed us our late order … in good humor, it must be said.

~ EVERYTHING Homemade ~

Needless to say, it was all delicious. And when I requested jam for my ‘homemade’ toast, a pot of homemade jam with a spoon in it promptly arrived to seal the treat. Sadly however, so filling were our meals we missed out on the pies – and what pies. My gosh. Next time, for sure. I’ll go for the rhubarb. Kris’ll probably plumb for the strawberry….

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And so, back out on the street we thought we would stretch our legs and take a little walk around town – why not? All two blocks seemed to be clean and tidy, and inviting. Each business front seemed to have a thriving business behind it. All was well maintained and interesting. “This is how things are meant to be”, we said to each other, nodding in agreement and appreciation of the place. Then: why can’t all little towns take a leaf out of Brooklyn’s book? Brooklyn, Iowa … the little town that can, and does!

~ Little touches go a long way ~

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~ The Jewel in the Crown ~

It was at this point that we rather fortuitously came across this spectacular building. For once you see inside, you too will find it most amazing. Yes, amazing….

Gingerly testing the glass door, to my surprise it opened, and upon entering the lobby we were immediately greeted by two staff members of what turned out to be the Brooklyn Opera House (who would have guessed – a town of two blocks has an opera house?) But not only did this tiny town boast an opera house, just wait until you see the auditorium. The lobby alone was pretty impressive; gleaming grand piano and all (just what sort of town IS this, we asked ourselves. And what kind of events play out here in this wood paneled entrance?) Curious and curiouser…

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~ Please click on an image to enlarge ~

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~ Plush leather seats, ornate parquet floor, everything just right and so very tasteful ~

After an informative introduction and explanation of how such a magnificent palace of entertainment was not only restored from ruin but improved upon out of all proportion to its original, rather humble beginnings, we were led on a lengthy tour that included a backstage pass. And my, wasn’t the tall gantry impressive. The ropes and pulleys, lights and sound system were all first rate in accordance with the rest of the renovation. It was, shall we say, rather impressive, indeed. Unfortunately, the newly restored town bank adjacent to the opera house was in use during our visit, but as with the Ice Cream Shoppe’s delicious homemade pies … we’ll catch the bank next time.

~ The Grand Old Opera House of Brooklyn, Iowa ~

I mean, just look at that truly splendid performance hall. How lucky are the residents of Brooklyn, Iowa? I’m sure they must know it. They are truly lucky, indeed. And so were we – to be given such an uplifting tour. It just goes to show; that if a random little town can roll up its collective sleeves and produce a miracle like this, well, in theory any town can.

Now, there is a caveat: a wealthy local family did endow the town with the necessary cash to get the project rolling. I think it was somewhere in the region of two million. Perhaps more. However, our gracious guide informed us that they are ‘well on the way’ to paying off the debt, around three-quarters the way, if memory serves. But you don’t get results like this without a lot of local support, enthusiasm, optimism and of course good old fashioned hard work. So, well done to all involved, you have shown the rest of us just how it is done. Can this sort of miracle be replicated elsewhere in enough numbers to make a difference? To turn the tide on rural America’s unexpected and seemingly terminal decline? Perhaps not everywhere, but if enough people say enough is enough, and enough little towns band together in similar fashion, then yes, I will say there IS hope that the current tide of decline can be stopped, then reversed in similar fashion. What do you think?

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Back out on the street the morning was proceeding at a pace, and we needed to get behind the wheel and make a few miles before the day got away from us. But never-the-less, we thought a little stroll up along the Main Street was in order to complete our Brooklyn, Iowa experience. And so we headed north a block or two to the huge stand of flags that had caught our eye upon entering the town, by now (at least) an hour or so ago. And I’m sure glad we did.

~ Fillerup ~

~ Please click on a picture to enlarge ~

Unfortunately, the inviting museum, located in what must have been the grandest home in town at some point, is only open (briefly) each Saturday morning, according to the large lawn sign. So, we sauntered around the large wrap-around porch, taking in the views for a while before heading back to the truck. We didn’t really have time to do the museum justice, in any case, so it was perhaps just as well it was closed. We now REALLY needed to get back on the road. But as our memorable Road Trip Wayside Attraction was drawing to a close, the little town of Brooklyn, Iowa, had one more treat in store…

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~ Point Duty ~

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~ Lest We Forget ~

What an incredible display of patriotism, pride and glory. I don’t think I have ever seen a small town war memorial on this scale, with this much impact, so expertly done and this much … love.

Thank you, Brooklyn, Iowa. That was time, very well spent.

We’ll be back.

For Sure. The next time we are in the neighborhood.

Love and Best Wishes, Kris and Martin Cooney. Alta Vista, Kansas.

ps A BIG THANKS to whoever thought of putting that sign on the highway – it made our day !

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~ S L I D E S H O W ~

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Travelogue

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Brooklyn, Iowa: Small Town America, Done Right

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Thank you for visiting martincooney.com

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