Redemption Iowanese Style

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Joe, Mac and I agreed at dinner Saturday night that a day trip was in order for Sunday, and so left Des Moines early in the day to make a visit to the Grotto of the Redemption in West Bend, Iowa.

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Joe had the good sense to bring along the Harper's Magazine word puzzle, so the three of us worked it as an overly educated team as we drove along through the rolling hills of Iowa farm country.  We had some trouble coming up with the first answer (which is crucial for this particular type of puzzle) so I put in an emergency call to my friend Sharon, who could work the daily New York Times puzzle in her sleep.  In no time she had fed us one of the answers and the three of us were off and running.  The torturous logic of this sort of puzzle (named London Times after the newspaper in which it originated) made my head ache the same way I remember it hurting when I used to think I should be able to figure out the lyrics of Bob Dylan.

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It was obvious to me when we arrived at the Grotto that both the boys were completely awestruck by the magnitude of the place.  I had visited many years ago on a hot summer day, which I think must have affected my experience more than I knew because I didn't remember at all how incredibly beautiful the place is, nor the surprising array of colors that show up in random places throughout the installation.

Not long after we got there, Mac noticed that all three of us were busily snapping photos and proposed a contest to see which of us could come up with the best image from the visit.  And boy howdy do I ever like having an assignment!  I pored over the structures with renewed vigor, finding all sorts of details I hadn't noticed or remembered from my previous visit.

Father Paul Dobberstein began building the Grotto in 1912 and worked on it year round until his death in 1954.  He was quite the rock hound and included a stunning array of geological specimens that he had both collected himself and received as donations over the years.  The series of 9 grottoes and 13 stations of the cross that are embellished with his collection are spread out over an area the size of a city block.  Hidden speakers play discreet organ hymns as you wander about admiring treasures as varied as a handful of stalactites cut from Carlsbad Caverns, bits of colored slag glass and rare seashells.  Golden tiles spell out anthems of faith and glory on the walkways and walls, while a long, long green mosaic snake lays patiently in wait outside the grotto where we discover Adam gazing on Eve.  But whether you're a fan of religious iconography or not, it's impossible not to be swept away by the scope of the Grotto. 

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As our allotted tour time began to run short (we had to get Joe back to the airport in Des Moines so he could catch a flight back home to San Francisco), we finished up our tour and popped into the Grotto gift shop.  We each managed to find a few things we couldn't live without (battery operated glowing mini candle and red polka dot rain bonnet for me).  I started to giggle when I turned the corner of one aisle and saw a row of religious icons lined up for sale, realizing that the scene mimicked nothing more closely than a police line up on a dingy t.v. crime drama.  Maybe I'll Photoshop in some height measurements on the various horizontals to emphasize the point.  As soon as I reviewed the image in the LCD screen on the back of the camera, I proclaimed it a prizewinner. 

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We dashed back to Des Moines in the Caddie, filling in the final letters of the puzzle just as we approached downtown.  After dropping Joe at the airport, Mac and I grabbed one more quick dinner downtown at the International Food Festival and then hit the road so we could drive north to meet our Waterloo.  Waterloo, Iowa, that is.  Home of John Deere tractors!  Site of our tour the next morning.  Yahooooo!