"Wisconsin is my somewhere"
Originally published in INDUSTRIAL WISCONSIN, April 1930
I love Wisconsin because my staunch old Welsh grandfather with my gentle grandmother and their 10 grandchildren settled here nearby. I see the site of their homestead and those of their offspring as I write. Offspring myself, my home and workshop are planted on the ground grandfather and his sons broke before the Indians had entirely gone away. This Wisconsin valley with the spring-water stream winding down as its center line has been looked forward to or back upon me and mine from all over the world, as home. And I come back from the distant, strange and beautiful places that I used to read about when I was a boy, and wonder about; yes, every time I come back here it is with the feeling there is nothing anywhere better than this is. More dramatic elsewhere, perhaps more strange, more thrilling, more grand, too, but nothing that picks you up in its arms and so gently, almost lovingly, cradles you as do these southwestern Wisconsin hills. These ranges of low hills that make these fertile valleys of southwestern Wisconsin by leading down to the great sandy plain that was once the bed of a mightier Wisconsin River than any of us have ever seen. I doubt if that vast river were more beautiful then, however, than this wide, slow-winding, curving stream in the broad sand bed where gleaming sandbars make curved beaches and shaded shores to be overhung by masses of great greenery. Well, it is not
quite like any of the more important rivers of the world. It is more what specialists in scenery would call “pi