Samuel J. Kirkwood: He Mobilized Iowa For The Civil War

When Samuel J. Kirkwood became governor of Iowa in 1860, the country was already sliding toward civil war. He acted fast, calling for volunteers, forming new regiments, and getting those men ready to serve the Union.

On April 16, 1861, Washington ordered Iowa to send a regiment for immediate service. Kirkwood didn’t have time to ease into the war; he began organizing at once.

The United States didn’t have a large army. That meant the states had to do much of the work. Iowa had willing men, but supplies were scarce. Guns and ammunition were the biggest problem. Even when volunteers poured in, the state couldn’t outfit them properly.

Kirkwood’s job became a constant scramble for equipment. At first, he wasn’t sure he could raise a full regiment. When volunteers flooded in by the thousands, the number of men ready to serve was larger than the state could quickly arm and outfit.

That created a fresh crisis. Kirkwood and other leading Iowans took unusual steps to get the state moving. They pledged personal property to borrow money for supplies, because waiting meant wasting time the Union didn’t have.

The Bat, The Bite, And The Midwestern Freak Show

January 1982. The Blizzard of Ozz plays Veterans Memorial Auditorium, and for a few chaotic seconds, Des Moines became the center of the American freak show.

Ozzy Osbourne is onstage. Lights slicing through smoke; guitars loud enough to rearrange your organs. The crowd is packed in tight. Denim and teenage adrenaline fill the auditorium.

Then something comes flying onto the stage. Small. Dark. Flopping wings.

A bat.

Depending on who you ask, it was a rubber toy or the real deal—a dead bat someone had brought like a twisted party favor. Either way, it lands near Ozzy’s boots, and that’s when reality shifted.

Ozzy picks it up. And bites it. The crowd watches, unsure how to react. They aren’t horrified. Just stunned. Like their brains need a second to catch up and decide—is it part of the show or some new-fangled Ozzy Voodoo ritual?

Then it hits. Screams. Cheers. Confused people, unsure how to react.

Afterward, Ozzy said he thought it was rubber. Maybe, but— There’s something unsettling about it. Grabbing something off the ground and biting it.

 The moment lives on, one of those stories that’s too ridiculous to die. Forty years later, the legend persists. And the question—reality or sideshow.

Skyjack Hill Motorcycle Climb - Carlisle, Iowa

Riders came from across the country for a motorcycle hill climb at Skyjack Hill, located five miles southeast of Carlisle, Iowa. The event was held on June 1, 1930.

The contest drew twelve professional riders from different parts of the country, along with over 30 riders from Iowa and neighboring states.

Several well-known hill climb riders entered the contest. Petrali of Chicago was listed as a national hill climb champion. Reiber of Milwaukee entered as the runner-up from the previous year’s championship climb. Art Erlenbaugh of Milwaukee also competed. He was reported to hold a hill climb record of 6.25 seconds.

 

Pioneer Club Pushmobile Race 1929 - Des Moines

The Des Moines Tribune-Capital printed this picture of the Pioneer Club Pushmobile Race which took place on Saturday, May 4, 1929. The winners were John Dowd and Earl Myers.

Steamboat Muscatine

The Davenport Democrat and Leader published this image of the Steamer Muscatine on August 25, 1929. The paper said the boat began service on the Mississippi River in 1864.

Author David Morrell: Rambo Was Just The Beginning

David Morrell

David Morrell published First Blood in 1972. It introduced John Rambo. The original Rambo was wounded, furious, and lost. The story was a pressure cooker.

Vietnam was still fresh. America was jumpy. The country felt like it was cracking at the seams. And here was a novel about a returning veteran who couldn’t fit back into normal life, colliding with a small-town system that didn’t know what to do with him.

 

Morrell wasn’t guessing about any of this. He taught literature at the University of Iowa and knew how stories work and what themes do when you tighten them like a vise. He just aimed that knowledge at a new target: suspense.

 

Morrell taught American literature at the University of Iowa from 1970 to 1986, became a full professor in 1977, and wrote bestselling novels during that same stretch.

 

So picture it. He lectured on American writing and culture during the day… then went home and wrote chase scenes, manhunts, and plots with real teeth. 

Murder at the Kirkwood Hotel in Des Moines

Officer Clarence Woolman

Alcoholism, disregard for the rules, and incompetence played into a double murder at the Kirkwood Hotel early in the morning on March 25, 1911.

Officer Clarence Woolman was assigned to take his best friend and prisoner, Dr. Harry Kelly, to the State Inebriate Hospital at Knoxville. They stopped for the night at the Kirkwood Hotel in Des Moines and had a few drinks. The next morning, one man lay dead with a bullet in his brain, and the other on the floor in a nearby saloon shot full of holes.

 

The men checked into the Kirkwood at 9:30 p.m. By rights, Woolman should have taken Kelly to the county jail—standard operating procedure was to lock up prisoners when traveling overnight. Woolman disregarded it because he didn’t want to hurt his friend’s feelings.

 

Kelly wasn’t the person you’d expect to be an alcoholic or a murderer. He grew up in an excellent family. His father managed the Standard Oil office in Council Bluffs. He was a “crack athlete” who played halfback for the University of Nebraska football team. Before his drinking got out of hand, he was considered the top doctor in Council Bluffs, maybe in the entire state.