Red

That's what the biker called me yesterday, when I left for Rudolph, WI early in the A.M. "Good luck Red" he said. Well, I sure as shootin' needed it.
About 2 hours and 45 minutes into my trip I hit the hail storm to beat all to hail storms. The sky to the north was so blue it was black, and the chicken in me came out, so I turned around for home. But about 20 miles away I decided foolish 'twas I. Back toward the grotto I drove, feeling brave and brazen. But, she whooped me. For thirty minutes I stayed parked under an overpass with numerous other people, waiting the banshee out. In the end I had to leave. Rapid fire quarter size hail, and rain thick enough to wipe out ANY visibility finally taught me to see sense.
So I spent the rest of the day sprawled on my motel bed, slobbering in sleep. And then made plans for the next day.

7/17/08

Today was nothing short of righteous. Complete, sublime, serendipitous circumstance. One of the days that will forever make me thankful for all the gifts I've been given in my little life. Today I experienced the Wergner (wegner) Grotto north of Sparta, WI. Yup almost a 3 hour drive from my home base. But I really don't care one bit. Why? Because this site has changed my life. The Grotto was built in the later years of Paul and Matilda Werger's lives. The couple worked in collaboration to build an environment that encompassed their home in rural north west Wisconsin. The site was made as a road side attraction promoting peace for all, patriotism (a different subject all together than what we now understand), and religious tolerance/celebration for all denominations. This includes among other things a "glass church" which is a concrete and glass embellished church. The exterior of this small building (4 can fit inside comfortably) depicts churches of different Christian sects. At the front of this church on either side of the door, sits a Lutheran church and a Catholic church. Above the door is a Star of David and the word Jew.
When I came up near the grotto on the gravel road, I couldn't believe my eyes. Sure the site was greatly weathered, and broken down, but I had an unmistakeable feeling that I couldn't put my finger on until I saw the entry arch. H O M E it reads. A more true declaration never was. When visiting these grottos there is such a rightness to their life that one cannot but feel they are home.
I spent almost 2 hours here wishing I could run up to the glass church, somehow grow fifty feet tall and just devour the whole structure, jagged glass and all. I wouldn't mind the danger; I'd braved a bad rain storm on the way. And swallowing glass chapels of equality seem easier to explain to the doctor than running into fences, like I have been lately.
I stayed long enough to meet a nice family of three, who took my picture, and long enough to figure out that I couldn't get into the church without a key.
I called the historical society of Sparta hoping to work something out. Even with all my pleading, there was nothing to be done.
I drove up the hill to see the graves of Paul and Matilda, and had a very grievous experience. Their headstones are done in the style of the grotto, which inspired in me great emotion.

What is difficult on this trip and in life is to see wonderful things eventually be lost to time. My own work is not so great as this, not so impressive and I lack the confidence these people possessed. To see these environments, and others be demolished, decay, be unloved, and see the people themselves dead is hard to digest. But, I left the Wergner's a Thank-You note just in case.

On the way back to MP I stopped at the Sparta Historical Society, housed in the original Masonic lodge. Jarrod , the director, let me see photos of the interior of the church, the rest of the site, original post cards and gave me a zerox of the Wergners. (I will be making my own macaroni frame to honor them). He then invited me to pursue a conservation vonlunteership with the Grotto next summer! YES. Also, I was invited to send my resulting project to Sparta for their collection. Sounds great to me.

*Whew!*

After the drive back I got my affairs in order for tomorrow, and the following days. To tie things up I wandered down High St. for the last time (this trip) and to The Royal Inn for wifi. But I was famished for veggies, as I've been living on pbj for the past four days. So I splurged on a nice salad, AND figgiehobbin. A traditional Cornish sweet of pastry filled with walnuts and raisins. This one came topped with ice cream and caramel sauce, and the dough was buttery.

BUT YOU'RE VEGAN!?, you say?

Yes. And the Pope is Catholic, but he likes Protestants, too. Plus, I don't think Paul or Matilda would mind.