Last week while on our way to the Stanley Museum of Art, we saw the Rock Island depot at 115 Wright St in Iowa City. We’ve lived here 36 years and never visited this historic landmark before. It has interesting architecture and there is even a passenger bench inside. It was built in 1898 and was converted to law offices in the early 1980s. There used to be a waiting room which was removed when it was remodeled. You can see it in the featured image.
The depot has a rich history which you can read here.
Be sure to see the YouTube presentation by local historian Irving Weber.
You’ll notice that Mr. Weber opens his talk about the Rock Island depot by singing a line from a popular song about it: “Rock Island Line is a mighty fine line…”
When we looked on the web for the song, we couldn’t find a rendition with that exact line. Every version we listened to was slightly different but that line was always “Rock Island Line is a mighty good road…” There is an original version recorded in 1934 by John Lomax. We like the one by Lead Belly.
We can see the man from our hotel window. We assume he’s homeless. He has a small area where he sits on the curb next to the street. He does this most of the day. He has a blanket and a few other loose items which sometimes are strewn on the sidewalk or the grass.
Even in 90-plus heat, he’s out there, sometimes standing beneath a small tree, presumably for shade although it’s inadequate. He waves his arms around in what looks like a futile attempt to cool himself. He might just be restless. Other times he sits on his blanket. Occasionally, people stop their cars and seem to be trying to communicate with him. He most often ignores them.
One of the hotel residents approaches him sometimes. It looked like he gives him something (probably a cigarette). Once, the homeless man left his station by the street and walked over to the front of the hotel, waving his arms, seemingly because the hotel resident was speaking to him. We couldn’t see what happened after that, but when he returned to the street, he lit a cigarette. We also saw he accepted fluid, maybe a can of soda.
Later, some people in a car gave him something they bought in a nearby drive-up fast-food joint. He threw out the ice from his drink, which he didn’t consume and sprinkled the fluid on his arms. The people left and returned later with several items they gave him. Some of it looked like more water, which he again poured on his arms. There was a backpack or something like it. He didn’t seem to know what to do with it.
He couldn’t ignore them when they try to help him (water, food, etc.). One person tried to help him clean up his little camp by picking up his trash. The police came out to check on him. We couldn’t hear the short conversation. After she left, he continued to toss his water bottles and other items into the parking lot. He sleeps on the pavement.
This reminded me of a couple of times when I’ve seen hobos. I don’t see the homeless man as a hobo. The term “hobo” is not synonymous with homeless, vagrant, or tramp. Hobos prefer not to have a home, travel around to find work, may still ride the rails to get around, and don’t see themselves as tramps.
As a young man, I worked for consulting engineers as a draftsman and survey crew worker in Mason City. This was in the 1970s. We traveled to outlying cities. One day, we went to Britt for a job. It was during the Britt Hobo Days Convention. It was not the first time I ever heard of it.
Funny thing, I thought I recognized one of the hobos in the café where we got coffee. He was wolfing down a big breakfast. When he was finished, he left in a hurry. I just assumed he was a hobo in town for the festivities. But he looked so familiar.
And suddenly it dawned on me. He had been a kindergarten classmate of mine. I couldn’t recall his name, but it was him.
Another memory that occurred to me was much later in my life, when I was a psychiatrist and co-attending on the medical-psychiatry unit in University Hospital in Iowa City. We admitted a patient who had been found walking around and around in a circle in the street, and seemed confused. Evidently the patient had an acute medical problem and no diagnosable psychiatric illness.
The patient identified as a hobo and was proud of it. The person was polite, grateful, and cooperative. The person refused any help from us beyond help for the acute medical problem. We discharged the person to the street.
Hobo life is different nowadays, I gather. Many have cars and phones. If you look carefully at their photos on the Britt Hobo Days web site, they don’t make me think of homelessness or mental illness. They have made a choice.
On the other hand, homelessness is often not a choice and severe mental illness is not uncommon. There is a homeless shelter in Iowa City, and the resources include a supportive community living program for those who struggle with mental illness. One member of the board of directors is a psychiatrist. Not every homeless person wants to go there. The University of Iowa Health Care has an Integrated Multidisciplinary Program of Assertive Community Treatment (IMPACT).
Because we’re staying in a hotel waiting for our house to be built, we have to take a different approach with our laundry. There are laundry facilities at the hotel, but there aren’t many machines. Sena usually takes it to a place called Laundromania. The motto is “We Never Clothes.”
I went with her the other day for the first time. There are a lot of machines. As it turns out, there’s also a lot of history at Laundromania. Back in 2008, Iowa City suffered a major flood and Laundromania was under water for a while. There’s even a picture inside of the water line painted on one of the windows. We remember that time. What a mess. You can see a very dirty sign that was framed and which describes the flood.
Laundromania is a modern facility. You can put your cash into a machine which pushes out a sort of debit card-which can only be used in Laundromania. You want to be careful with that. Depending on how long you live in the neighborhood, it could be either a good or a bad thing.
Even though it’s a modern facility, Laundromania does have some quirks. The day we were there, we tried to use a dryer which turned out to have a broken door latch. We lost a little money in it. Sena put one of the Out of Service signs on it. There’s no on-site manager there but, coincidentally, shortly after she put the sign on the dryer, the service guy showed up. I guessed he fixed it.
For a short time, I tried to keep track of the dryer time using the old analog clock on the wall. Two things wrong with that: the clock doesn’t work and all the machines have digital timers on them anyway.
You can buy laundry detergent and other stuff there from a vending machine, but they’re pretty expensive.
There are a couple of old grade school desks that bring back memories. One of them is pretty dirty.
If you’re ever in Iowa City and you need to do your dirty laundry, try Laundromania.
The hotel we’re staying in while our house is being built is very close to railroad tracks. We hear the whistle and then, we feel the train going by. No kidding, we can feel the rumble. It shakes the chairs, the sofa, the bed. The whole room shakes for as long as the train passes through the area.
It’s kind of an eerie sensation. It reminds me of the Illinois earthquake in 2010, which was felt by many in Eastern Iowa. It rattled our bed. That went on for a few minutes.
And some of you X-Files fans will get it when I say this free association would naturally lead to memories of the Bad Blood episode (season 5). This hilarious show features Mulder and Scully telling their own versions of what happened in a little town full of vampires. Both agents got all shook up using the Magic Fingers on a hotel bed.
Scrub to about 2 minutes into the YouTube to see the first Magic Fingers earthquake. There’s more, but you’ll get the idea.
It’s that time of the year again; everybody’s moving whether relocating across the country or just moving across town.
One thing is key: you need quality, top of the line appliances. Say you’re having family and friends over for dinner and you need freezer space for roadkill squirrel. Why, a General Electric fridge with the perfect size little freezer designed to accommodate flattened rodents is just what you need.
But wait; you’ll need a stove to cook them! Look no further than your own Magic Chef. Emeril Lagasse would be proud to own this little gem, which might even have smell-o-vision as he would call it! That is, if you like the smell of smoked salmon (see what I did there?). Just whack your food against the grill to knock off any residual char. Or spray them down with the complimentary Copper Bullet Hose and watch that smoke just disappear!
Better hurry to order. These items are selling so fast there is a strict order of only two to a customer!
Pay no attention to that thing which resembles an antique hash pipe in the oven.
Note on Photos: Courtesy of Slager Appliances in Iowa City, I took these photos of vintage appliances on display in their showroom.
We bought a laptop computer. It has been years since I’ve used one. I forgot how exasperating a touchpad is. Luckily, we have a spare wireless mouse and a USB port. The laptop is slim and very light, like most laptops these days.
I remember the first “laptop” I had early in my career as a consulting psychiatrist. I think it weighed about 2-3 times what the modern ones weigh nowadays. I think I could have stopped a thief from taking it from me by whacking him over the head with it.
If I remember correctly, it had a slot for floppy discs and another for disc media. It developed a hardware problem which forced me to box it up and send it back to the manufacturer for repairs. I don’t remember how long I kept it after that.
The new laptops don’t have any internal optical drives built into them.
I read a tech article in which the author’s opinion about the gradual disappearance of internal optical drives and other physical media for laptops was probably the result of large companies finding out they could make more money by charging subscription fees for digital media.
Today, I’m going on a tangent about big, mostly antique cribbage boards which were specially made for making the scoring more complex. The main perpetrator (I mean manufacturer), was Drueke (variously pronounced as Drooky, Drew, Drooka).
The Drueke name turns up on most of the big two, three and four track vintage cribbage boards you find for sale on eBay. There are a few other makers, but Drueke is the one you commonly see. I don’t know anything about Drueke except it was a well-known maker of board games including chess and cribbage sets. The company was based in Grand Rapids, Michigan.
If you know how to play the basic version of cribbage, you probably think it’s complicated enough as is. But Drueke made boards that allowed you to score many aspects of the game right on the playing surface.
There are other 4 track cribbage boards that aren’t designed to allow players to go crazy with scoring everything you do in a cribbage game. But typically, you’ll see a lot of what Drueke called the “Once-A-Round Scoremaster” boards. I got curious about the rules and found a couple of web pages on which I found out more about them. The rules are a little hard to find and a little vague when you do find them.
I couldn’t find out anything about them even on the American Cribbage Congress (ACC) website—and it’s the main authority about cribbage rules.
Reddit has a page titled Cribbage-Four Track Board (Example Rules). Click the “read more” below the image. It also shows a nice photo of a typical board. It’s tough to follow.
Then I found a Board Game Geek (BGG) page on which a guy named Jeff Bridghman outlined a clearer explanation of how to play on such a board. It’s actually better than the rules included with the Drueke game. By the way, if you have trouble with the web page, just reload it by typing “4 track boards and all the extra mumbo jumbo?” and hit the search button again.
What puzzled me were his comments about the High Hand score. He said his board had something I’ve not seen on pictures of the boards on eBay. The High Hand score goes from 1-10 on every one of those I saw. On the other hand, his board shows actual scores (14 through 29). I think it must have been a custom build. The thread has longevity; it started in 2011 and the latest comment I saw was in 2023.
If you buy the Drueke board, you’ll need the rules. But even if you have the Drueke rules, you’ll probably need something more specific. Maybe Drueke figured people would be more creative than they are. It’s a lot like life. I think sometimes you have to make up some rules.
I was just thinking about the old-time land survey crews. When I was getting on the job training as a survey technician, the typical land survey crews were at least 2-3 persons. One rodman, one instrument man, and a crew chief who organized the job, which could be property or construction jobs.
Nowadays, you get by sometimes with one man doing the jobs using a theodolite that measures angles and distances. You don’t always need a physical measuring tape; you can use something they call “total stations.”
It’s cheaper for engineering companies to use one man survey outfits. On the other hand, one disadvantage is the lack of mentoring for learners who want to become land surveyors or civil engineers.
Mentoring from surveyors on the survey back in the day not only taught me such skills as how to throw and wrap a surveyor’s steel tape—it also taught me how to work well with others as a team. Of course, this was transferrable to working on the psychiatry consultation-liaison service in a big hospital as well.
It’s well known that playing cards in the truck while waiting for the rain to stop was an essential skill. I don’t know how they manage downtime nowadays. We didn’t play cards on the consultation service during downtime, partly because we didn’t have much downtime.
Anyway, as I mentioned in a recent post, we played Hearts in the truck on rain days. I always sat in the middle. At the time, I was a terrible card player in general. It was a cutthroat game and I had trouble remembering which cards had been played.
When you consider that the strong suit of engineers and surveyors is math ability, you’d think that survey crews would have figured out a way to play Cribbage during downtime. You can have a Cribbage game with 3 or 4 people although I’ve never played it that way. If there are 3 players, it can still be cutthroat.
The one problem I can see is that, the guy sitting in the middle would have to set the board on his lap. You’d almost need a special, custom-made board which would have a space for placing the cards to keep track of what’s been played. I think that might have made things easier for me.
The other drawback to one man survey crews is that pretty much the only card game you can play is solitaire.
The Memorial Day ceremonies in Iowa City, Iowa this year will be on May 27, 2024. At 8:30 a.m. there will be a ceremony at Park Road Bridge. Then at 9:30 a.m., the second part will be at Oakland Cemetery. At 11:00 a.m. the third part will be at Memory Gardens.
The other day we had some stormy weather roll across central Iowa, although it was not as bad as the tornado that swept through Greenfield. We hope the best for them. We didn’t actually get a tornado, but I remember wondering why the siren went off about 6:00 a.m. It woke me up and I wondered what was the matter. Turns out it was a tornado warning and we had to sit in the basement for a little while. It was a little scary, but the storm moved east pretty quickly northeast out of our area.
For whatever reason, this eventually led to my reminiscing about my younger days. Maybe it was because of a temporary scare and increased awareness of our mortality.
I used to work for a consulting engineers company called WHKS & Co. in Mason City, Iowa. This was back in the days of the dinosaurs when it was challenging to set stakes for rerouting highways around grazing diplodocus herds.
I was young and stupid (compared to being old and stupid now by way of comparison). I lived at the YMCA and took the city bus to the Willowbrook Plaza where the WHKS & Co. office was located on the west side of town.
I usually got there too early and stopped for breakfast at the Country Kitchen. The waitress would make many trips to my table to top off my coffee while I sat there waiting for the office to open. That was fine because I had a strong bladder in those days. I left tips (“Don’t cross the street when the light is red”).
My duties at WHKS & Co. included being rear chain man and rod man, at least when I first started. A “chain” was the word still being used for a steel tape for measuring distances. It was well past the days when land surveyors used actual chains for that purpose. You had to use a plumb bob with the chain to make sure you were straight above the point (usually marked by a nail or an iron property corner pin) you measuring to and from.
You and the lead chain man had to pull hard on each end of the chain to make sure it was straight. It was challenging, especially on hot days when my hands were sweaty and the chain was dirty. Callouses helped.
The rod was for measuring vertical distances and an instrument called a level was used with that. One guy held up the rod which was marked with numbers and the guy using the level read the elevation. Another way to measure both horizontal and vertical angles used a rod and a different instrument that we called a theodolite (older instrument name was “transit”).
We worked in all kinds of weather, although not during thunderstorms. In fact, when it was looking like rain out in the field, a standard joke for us sitting in the truck waiting for rain was to draw a circle on the windshield (imaginary, you just used your finger although if your finger was dirty which it always was, you left a mark) and if a certain number of drops fell in the circle, you could sit in the truck and play cards.
When we played cards, it was always the game Hearts, which I could not play skillfully at all. I always lost. But it kept us out of the rain. If a big thunderstorm blew in, we just headed back home.
Go Retire Psychiatrist 