I had two thoughts during my weekend in Story City, Iowa. (Well, technically I had quite a few thoughts. I think pretty much all the time when I’m conscious. That’s just the kind of guy I am. But two of these thoughts were new.)
One has to do with family, and it probably won’t mean much to you, but I’ll share it anyway, because… because… because I have this forum in which to raise my barbaric yawp, I guess.
The history of Story City (at least the part that interests me) goes like this. In the 1840s, a few Norwegians began to take the gamble of traveling to this dangerous new country (where, their pastors at home liked to tell them, epidemics were rampant, wild Indians were likely to scalp them and slavers made a habit of kidnapping Norwegians to be sold in New Orleans. The part about the epidemics was true). The earliest successful settlements were centered around Lisbon, Illinois and Muskego, Wisconsin. Most of these immigrants came from what we call Western Norway (actually southwestern, but officially Norway has no south). It helped in dealing with all the strangeness and dangers to live among people from home, people whose dialects and customs you understood. Continue reading Story City Story II: The Sequel