A Landing a Day

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (and now more-or-less a twice a week blog), I have my computer select a random latitude and longitude that puts me somewhere in the continental United States (the lower 48).  I call this “landing.”  I keep track of the watersheds I land in, as well as the town I land near.  I do some internet research to hopefully find something of interest about my landing location.  To find out more about A Landing A Day (like who “Dan” is and what the various numbers and abbreviations mean in the first paragraph), please see “About Landing,” (and “Abbreviations” and “Cryptic Numbers”) above.

 Landing number 2057; A Landing A Day blog post number 475.

Dan –  I could have scripted this.  As soon as I broke 150 (thanks to a run of 5 USers), I get three OSers in a row, the latest being my landing in . . . IA; 44/38; 5/10; 5; 151.1.  (Confused about this paragraph?  Check out my recent post on the subject – click HERE.

 Here’s my regional landing map, showing I landed smack dab in the middle of Iowa:

My local landing map shows my proximity to some little towns.  Besides Kamrar (my titular town), there’s Jewell, Blairsburg, and a somewhat larger town, Webster City:

My Google Earth (GE) shot shows that . . . surprise, surpise . . . I landed in a farm field:

Here’s another landing map, showing only the streams:

So, it looks like a toss-up between the Boone River watershed and the South Skunk River watershed.  Using the GE elevation tool, I found that drainage from my landing heads east, so the winner is the South Skunk, a new river for me.  By the way, Street Atlas doesn’t list any names for the smaller streams heading into the South Skunk. 

 Anyway, the South Skunk flows to the Skunk (5^th hit, the 149^th river on my list of rivers with 5 or more his); on to the Might Mississippi (809^th hit).

 OK, so I did my usual, checking out scads of Google entries for the four towns.  Looking for the elusive hook.  Man, I’ll say the hook is elusive; so elusive as to be non-existent.  I’ve spent way too much time working on this post and getting no where, so this one’ll be a shorty.  Here’s a picture of Kamrar, from Wiki:

From the Hamilton County history site, I found out that the town was founded in 1881 by the Chicago & Northwestern Railroad.  And Kamrar?  Do you think the name has a railroad connection (like most of the little High Plains towns)?  Yup.  Judge J.L. Kamrar from Webster City performed legal work for the railroad.  Here’s a picture of the good judge (from the Iowa Legislature website; evidently the Judge was also a State Senator):

When I have little factual material, I tend to make something up.  Here’s my (totally fictional) take on how the whole town-naming thing went:

 It’s November, 1880.  Two executives (John Milner and Peter Kroenig) from the Chicago & Northwestern Railroad are meeting.  They are discussing the north-south railroad connection between Jewell and Webster City.

 John:  “We have 98% of the route between Jewell & Webster City under control.  But that last 2% is killing us!”

 Peter:  “Yea, yea, I know.  You’re talking about the Amos Peterson farm, right?” .

 John:  “He hasn’t accepted our offers, and we know why.  After we offered him more per acre for the right-of-way than any of his neighbors, Amos still said no.  He started giving us that story about his grandfather’s dying wish.  You’ve heard it before, right?  About that land near the creek on his property.  About how that land is practically sacred, and that under no circumstances should it ever leave the family.”

 Peter:  “Yea, I heard it before.  Amos’ granddad claimed that the whole family would have died in the winter of ’40, except for the yams they grew down by the creek that kept ‘em alive during that brutal winter.”

 John:  “Well, it’s 1880 and the winter of ’40 is history.  We need that land, and we need it now. What are we going to do.?”

 Peter:  “Not to worry.  Judge Kamrar owes us big time.  He has practically been on our payroll for the last ten years.  We need a court order using eminent domain to force Peterson to sell.”

 John:  “But the Judge is going to play hardball.  He knows how badly we need this land.  He’ll charge us a fortune.”

 Peter:  “I have an idea.  Let’s pay him our usual rate, but sweeten the pot.  You know that we’ll need to establish a depot and a town about halfway between Jewell and Webster City.  What if we make sure that it’s called Kamrar?

 John:  “Peter, you’re a genius.  The Judge has an ego the size of the Louisiana Purchase.  He’ll bite.  Let’s make the offer . . . “

 The rest is history.

 I stumbled upon a couple of photographs of Kamrar by Wayne Norton, presented on the Mober Gallery website.  Here’s part of a write up by Mr. Norton, discussing his photographs:

 This is a series of panoramic photographs of rural Iowa and its slowly vanishing culture. They are not an attempt to document Iowa, or to glamorize its beauty or culture by creating soul-soothing, pretty pictures. Instead, they are meant to look “real”, yet be expressive of my personal artistic vision. This series is intended as an intimate portrait of the often neglected and overlooked small towns and rural landscape of Iowa. Included in this concept is Man’s uncertain relationship with the land and the rural culture, the paradoxical beauty of decay in Man’s creations, and issues regarding the tendency for its people to leave the towns and farms to seek opportunity elsewhere.

While this photography is driven by my artistic need to create compelling images, I am equally motivated by my love for Iowa and a desire to represent rural culture. As urban sprawl gobbles up more and more of this county, many regions of the Unites States seem claustrophobic to me. However, Iowa still feels spacious, and I wanted to convey that in my photographs.

Click HERE to check out Wayne Norton’s portfolio.

Two of Mr. Norton’s pictuers feature Kamrar.  The first is entitled “Kamrar, Elevator and House:”

 The second is entitled:  “Kamrar, Empty Corn Bins:”

 That’ll do it.

 KS

 Greg

© 2013 A Landing A Day