As my friend, Val, and I packed up our things from our short “cozy farmhouse” Air BnB stay near the Dells, we tried to think of things we didn’t get around to doing before we zip-locked our last bag of trail mix and left the area.
We didn’t feel like expending the energy required for a proper day of hiking around Devil’s Lake. We visited the International Crane Foundation and Circus Museum in Baraboo the previous day.
In between raindrops, we also managed a short trek around Pewit’s Nest, a natural gorge cut by Skillet Creek.
We fished out a Travel Wisconsin Magazine from a pile of brochures the Air BnB host left for guests and read about a Norman Rockwell exhibition in nearby Reedsburg, probably only five minutes away, and decided to check it out before programming the GPS for a scenic route to Sauk City.
The magazine described the exhibit as a permanent collection at the Voyager Inn and Conference Center.
Not exactly scary kitsch like the Bates Motel (Remember the movie Psycho?), upon turning into the parking lot, it was easy to see that the best days of the Voyageur Inn were behind her.
Marty’s Steak House, a modest supper club, and the Black Squirrel Lounge were part of the complex. We weren’t sure what kinds of businesses hosted conferences there or even whether some of their rooms had to have linens changed this decade, but it was all part of the adventure.
When Val and I walked into the lobby, the woman at the desk seemed surprised to see anyone. It was a Monday, around lunchtime. We announced that we had come to see the Norman Rockwell exhibit.
The woman at the front desk wanted to seem welcoming. It was obvious she didn’t get asked about this very often.
“Wait,” she said before motioning us towards the hallway which connected the motel lobby to Marty’s Steakhouse and the Black Squirrel Lounge. “I’ll turn on lights for you.”
I was kind of amazed by the sight; a corridor of Americana, in the form of framed covers from forty years of The Saturday Evening Post along with prints and illustrations of political icons and sports heroes filled the wall.
I always considered Rockwell’s stuff hokey. He famously said, “I paint life as I would like it to be.”
Oh puh-leeze. I couldn’t imagine a more dangerous guiding principle. Our civic life is full of people trying to return to an idealized view of life, often dismissing people advocating progress and universal freedoms.
But, I took my time studying the framed pieces, the holiday scenes and courtship caricatures and images of family life.
I especially liked “The Rivals” from 1922, depicting two young boys bringing treats to the girl they both had crush on and “Dewy v Truman,” showing a kitchen table scene where the father and mother of the household held up different newspapers, representing their different political allegiances.
His illustrations were funny, sometimes bitingly on point. Quintessentially human. Perfect.
Fairly early in his career, he described himself as a storyteller, which I related to. After I got home, following my Wisconsin getaway, I did some online research and discovered that his life resonated with me even more.
The early focus of my writing was creating stories of my imagination. More recently, I’ve been focused on recording stories from my daily experience. My purpose has become to encourage people to consider their own stories, moments of joy and gratitude in THEIR lives.
Everyone’s life is a story, a tale of transformation. After being a moderate Republican for most of his life, he supported JFK in 1960 and went on to become a champion of civil rights.
His painting “The Problem We All Live With,” showing the brave and lonely path of six-year-old Ruby Bridges as she embarks on her first day at an all-white elementary school, has become an emblem of the Civil Rights movement.
In line with the No Small Thing philosphy, Rockwell once said, “Commonplaces never became tiresome. It is we who become tired when we cease to be curious and appreciative.”
His empathy and humor are timeless.
Being funny without being mean is no small thing.
My NR Experience:
The friend I was traveling with loved Norman Rockwell’s work. I had seen it all my life and liked it and what I knew of his messages in the earlier stages of my life. So, my motivation in stopping there was all about her desire and delight.
That’s what I thought until I crossed the threshold. Immediately, I fast walked to the closest painting and went through the looking glass that is the world of this artist, storyteller, social commentator. A wonderfully authentic human being.
In long years later perspective, i find this experience is among my most memorable transformative shifts.