Visiting Iowa's smallest of the small
While roaming the roads of Iowa on a journey impossible, Cal and Phyllis Whitmore stopped for a second look at a commercial building in Kent. It was so decrepit that an upstairs wall had collapsed, displaying the furniture and bathroom fixtures to passers-by.
“No one, thankfully, was living there, but it’s what you might expect of Kent. It has only 52 residents and lost 27 percent of its population since 1980,” Cal says.
The Whitmores have just driven what they are convinced no one ever has tried. They drove 4,000 miles to visit every incorporated town in Iowa with a population of less than 100.
“Others visit the big towns. It was our whim to visit the smallest of the small,” says Cal, a Deere retiree who, with Phyllis, his wife of 60 years, lives in Moline.
The trip took 22 months and led them to 99 tiny incorporated towns. Some of them, such as Kent, were quite feeble and down at the heels. One place, Millertown, (pop. 48) had an abandoned café with a big sign that read, “5-Cent Hamburgers.” The biggest hamlet they visited barely qualified. It was Sharpsburg, with a population of 98. The smallest was Beaconsfield, with 11 residents who hang on despite a 70 percent drop in population since 1980.
The Whitmores, who like to drive, based their wanderings on 2000 U.S. Bureau of Census population figures. Official Iowa road maps list incorporated towns with their populations. Illinois maps do not always carry population numbers.
Their ex-officio survey showed that small towns are assuredly going down the drain in population. Of the 99 hamlets visited, only four had population increases from 1980 to 1990 to 2000. Those increases can be counted with the fingers on your
hands. Scarville had a population gain of five people from 1990 to 2000 — giving it a total of 97 residents; Osterbock has experienced growth of only one person — from 49 to 50 — in 10 years.
“Our visits did not entail speaking with residents of the town, but we did drive up and down streets, making notes about the appearance of each,” Cal says. “Some of the 99 are in bad shape while others, despite their tiny population, are quite neat in appearance.”
Benton, with a population of 40, had aspirations of better days. “They named one of their streets ‘Kansas City Avenue,’ ” he says. “Benton is one of the four of the 99 showing a gain, going from 39 to 40 in the last decade.”
In their meandering, Cal and Phyllis traded note-taking duties. They found the tiny towns have a sense of humor, despite their size.
Rossie (pop. 58) has a sign reading, “We have more than one horse.” The sign includes a painting depicting the rear ends of three horses, side by side.
The sign for Dolliver (pop. 77) says, “Small but friendly.”
Popejoy greets visitors with a sign reading, “Velkommen to Popejoy.”
Jackson Junction (pop. 60) points the way to Turkey Valley Consolidated School.
Valerie (pop. 62) has a sign saying, “Home of a railroad romance.” Cal was intrigued by the railroad romance but could find no historian to explain what it meant.
Of the 99 towns visited, the Whitmores’ favorites were Clayton (pop. 55) and Beaconsfield; Clayton for its scenic setting on the Mississippi River and Beaconsfield, with its mere 11 people, as a birthplace of supermarketing.
“It was Beaconsfield where the first Hy-Vee store was located,” Cal says. “In 1930, Charles Hyde and Dave Vredenburg opened a small general store in Beaconsfield. By using parts of the names of the two men, it grew into the Hy-Vee chain. The store is now used as the Beaconsfield Community Center.”
The travelers were particularly impressed by how, despite their tiny size, some of the towns can still support businesses such as banks, bars, an occasional bed-and-breakfast and a hardware store. They found that Clio, with only 91 people, had three active churches in town: Baptist, Methodist and Bible.
“Two of these tiny towns had libraries. The libraries weren’t much bigger than your office,” Cal said, looking around my cozy little hideaway. “But, nevertheless, they had libraries.”
These towns are fading, but they are still junction points on the landscape. That is how these places began at least 100 years ago.
The Whitmores carefully plotted their routes, mostly making one-day trips.
“Once, we were out for three days so we could reach a number of the small towns during one trip,” Phyllis says.
They traveled very few interstates. Small towns are not found on the roads of the big semis and the whiz of 75-mph speed limits. Many of the miles were driven on county roads. “I will say that every numbered county road we were on was in excellent condition,” Cal adds.
“We came close to each of Iowa’s neighboring states — Clayton on the bank of the Mississippi across from Wisconsin. At the other end of the state, we drove through Chatsworth, which is near the Big Sioux River that separates Iowa from South Dakota,” he says.
Phyllis says they enjoyed every mile during the nearly two years of travel.
“It was like a mini-vacation,” she adds.
They used two different cars, both 1999 models, for their journeys; one a Buick, the other a Mercury. Only once did they have trouble.
“I backed into a ditch in LeRoy, a town of 13 people,” Cal says. “A farmer came along with a big Deere tractor and pulled me out. He wouldn’t take a nickel for helping me.”
With this chronology behind them, Cal says, “I don’t know what we’ll do next. We might try Nebraska. It has only 85 incorporated towns with populations under 100.”
Bill Wundram can be contacted at (563) 383-2249 or bwundram@qctimes.com.