Common Ground

Flags in a Cornfield - Calamus, IA

One of the great benefits that I’ve realized over the course of the pilgrimage has been the great gift of time to step back from the complexity of day to day living and reflect on concepts and ideas that have crossed my path.

Today, my only company was the steady plop, plop, plop of my feet on the asphalt shoulder of the road, the screeched warnings of the red winged black birds escorting me from their territory, and the occasional car or truck swooshing in from the east to bomb past my steady, if slow, westward plod.

I caught myself thinking about something I overheard on a television news and commentary show the other day.  As a practice, I’ve made an attempt to remove television programming from my day to day life, and on balance, I feel quite a bit more serene because of this policy. That said, the proliferation of constantly broadcasting screens in diners, hotels, and in any number of surprising places makes it nearly impossible to remove the influence of television entirely.

The discussion I overheard was surrounding the upcoming 2020 election cycle, and the topic being discussed involved the strategies associated with one candidate or another’s ability to connect with “rural Americans.”

I’m not really sure what “rural American” means in modern era. A great deal of the area we’ve been traversing could probably be categorized in the rural bucket. Compared to the cities, population densities are lower, and there have been times that we’ve walked for several miles without seeing another human being.  In the age of vehicular travel, this is a pretty amazing occurrence.

We’ve also had the great experience of meeting a great many people, but at no time did I find myself thinking of any of these people as “rural Americans.” If I bucketed them at all, I might think of them as hailing from a particular state, but even that is not a common thought that runs through my head.

The people we’ve met have been friendly and welcoming and curious and hard working. Almost to the person they want to improve themselves and provide a good environment to raise their families. They’ve been older and younger, highly educated and some had degrees from the school of hard knocks. They’ve come from India, Pakistan, Nigeria, Honduras, Nicaragua, Russia, Georgia (both the state and the country), Ukraine, Germany, France, and many people who are multi-generational Americans.

Today I met Mike who was originally from India. He moved to Queens, NY about twenty five years ago, but he’s spent the last eleven years as a successful small business owner in Calamus, IA. Mike asked about my backpack and trekking poles, and we spent a moment commiserating about the heat and the gnats. On the issue of gnats, he had a solution which he generously shared with me.

I guess my point is that Mike, whatever he may be, is not a “rural American.” He’s an American, and he had a solution for gnats that he was willing to share.

These labels that slip into our consciousness are largely not useful in my experience out here on the road.  While our individual experiences are unique, we all are generally seeking the same fundamental things out of life, and we’re certainly bedeviled with common problems….like gnats.

This trip has served as an important reminder for me of our common ground and connectedness, and I’m grateful for all the people I’ve crossed paths with that have served as examples of these truths,

On an unrelated side note, I’d like to give props to whoever designed the Iowa State Flag. The colors coordinate nicely with our National Ensign, the seal in the middle conjures images of the history associated with this great state, and the flag leaves no ambiguity about which state it symbolizes. It’s a great boon to the poor twelve year old struggling mightily with a flag recognition quiz in the geography block of a fifth grade social studies class. Truth be told, it helps me quite a bit too.

Barnstormers

Some of the first forms of civil aviation in the United States were Barnstorming and Flying Circuses. These events really took off during the 1920’s as reliable military surplus biplanes from WWI were sold off to the public for a fraction of their cost.

Aviators took these aircraft and performed shows, sold airplane rides, and generally tried to impress people with their piloting skills in an era before Federal Aviation Regulations really took hold.

Barnstorming itself was a fairly egalitarian pursuit with women and minorities gaining fame and notoriety based on their skills in cockpit. It was a raucous era in aviation producing greats like Charles Lindberg, Katherine Stinson, and Bessie Coleman.

These barnstormers introduced America to the wonders and possibilities of commercial aviation. Victims of their own success, the Federal Government enacted a series of progressively more restrictive regulations. Those regulations coupled with the end of surplus biplane sales caused the practice of barnstorming to basically vanish by 1929.

As I pass into progressively less populated areas, my imagination has wandered with thoughts of what it would have been like to live in those heady days of early aviation. If you could get a plane and some training, you too could be a pilot.

Hopping from grass strip to grass strip across the prairie states would have been quite a bit faster and probably more exciting than walking. Barnstorming, smuggling, and delivering the mail could put food on the table, and no one was standing in TSA lines just to have to remove their shoes and their jackets.

Airplane in a Cornfield - Clinton County, IA

As I was trudging along thinking about simpler times, I glanced to my left. Low and behold, hearkening back to those heady early days of aviation, there was an airplane in a cornfield. The hanger was amongst the farms outbuildings, and a grass strip led from the door, down through the cornfield and, I assume, into the sky.

I’ve been looking for one of these throwbacks to the barnstorming era, and today, I actually got to see one!