There's no sign, near or far, but every last soul in the region knows the intersection of the major two-lane-ers in the county--highways 75 and 10--is, was, and has been for as long as anyone can remember, the "Million Dollar Corner." It lays out there on a low plain all by its lonesome, closest burg is a little town named Maurice, three miles south. Was the construction of the infrastructure a government boondoggle?

From Alton to Waverly the fields all around looked absurdly abundant, rich black soil much of the world would die for, perfectly manicured, all that ground now seeded and embarrassingly bare naked, Dutch-Cleanser clean, gorgeous black dirt, all in place, things ready to grow.

Born in 1895, he was the child of a mixed marriage. His father's people were immigrant Dutch, his mother's immigrant German. He spent his boyhood in Hospers, a village on the seam. When he served, he did so in a fashion that suitably represented all, I'm sure. For forty years he held elective office, in D. C., from 1942-1965. Eleven times he was voted back into the House . Eleven times. Just about made him an institution. Some called him "Mr. Republican."

Now Iowa has holy places galore, but only one Grotto. Its ancestors are all in Spain or Portugal. No matter, let's go on a road trip, a little architectural tour. Come on along.

Not unlike Spirit Mound really, save in size. Drive a couple miles north from Vermillion, and there it is, growing as if out of nowhere, towering above an endless stretches of crop land in all directions, a sweetly climbable hump of earth, a grassy bee-hive with no reason whatsoever to be there--there stands Spirit Mound as if the entire seventh grade decided to build a massive model volcano.

Walking along the Missouri River Trail, Jim Schaap asks what those hulking piles of poles are for.

Sioux City born-and-reared, the Ghosts picked up games with only the best local teams, but never let what happened on the field get too demanding or serious.

Civil War veteran Albert V. Cole settled in Nebraska after marrying. In his journal, it wasn't the war that he recalls, but the fear of his wife leaving their home for the hardness of a blizzard.

When Francis La Flesche was a young boy, he wanted to hunt buffalo for his tribe. As a man, he preserved his people in a different way.