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You're listening to ALL THINGS CONSIDERED from NPR News. The Midwest is known for its roadside attractions. See the world's largest ear of corn, grab a soda at the largest truck stop. Well, you can add to that list the heartland's many grottos. Most of these manmade caves were created by immigrant priests at the beginning of the 20th century. One of the most impressive is in West Bend, Iowa. This weekend, it turns 100.
Iowa Public Radio's Sandhya Dirks paid a visit to the Grotto of the Redemption.
SANDHYA DIRKS, BYLINE: West Bend, Iowa: population, 785; the requisite one restaurant, one bar, one stoplight. It looks like many small rural towns here surrounded by farmland and grain bins. But if you venture a block off the highway, you come upon something almost surreal, an entire city block filled with man-made concrete caves. Now, imagine every available surface plastered in glittering stones, rocks, petrified wood, even seashells. This is the Grotto of the Redemption. And it tends to leave visitors, like Shirley Raml, a little tongue-tied.
SHIRLEY RAML: It's awesome. I don't - I...
(SOUNDBITE OF SIGH)
DIRKS: You're speechless.
PAYTON SMITH: When you're looking at $6 million worth of semiprecious stone, you know, cemented in, it's a visual orgy. It almost is unreal.
DIRKS: Payton Smith works with the Center for Upper Midwestern Cultures. He says to talk about the grotto, you need to understand Father Paul Dobberstein, the man behind it.
SMITH: You can call them self-trained artists, outsider artists, visionary, things like that, but individuals like Paul, they're different because they built huge environments.
DIRKS: Father Dobberstein was really a Renaissance man, a man of faith, a trained geologist and, in the end, a prolific and influential artist. The Midwest is home to the largest concentration of grottos in the world, including three major ones and maybe as many as 100 smaller works, some of them by Dobberstein. But the Grotto of the Redemption was quite literally his life's work.
SANDY KOOLHAUS: He was - had a one-track mind. He wanted his grotto done.
DIRKS: That was...
KOOLHAUS: That was it.
DIRKS: ...his everything.
KOOLHAUS: That was his everything: morning, noon, night, breakfast, lunch and dinner.
DIRKS: Sandy Koolhaus is a guide at the grotto. She tells tourists when Dobberstein got pneumonia, he prayed to the Virgin Mary. If he survived, he would build her a shrine. She tells about his many trips to collect rare stones and stalagmites that glitter in the sunlight. During the Depression, when he couldn't afford to travel, he made rocks himself out of melted glass and crayons.
KOOLHAUS: And because he was willing to make the rocks, he was able to work on the grotto throughout the entire Depression.
DIRKS: Across the street, three women are teasing Jane Hanselman for only taking the tour last week even though she's lived here for 70 years.
JANE HANSELMAN: My niece is a tour guide for one thing, and so I just wanted to heckle her.
HANSELMAN: But it turned out I didn't because it was a very good tour.
DIRKS: Sandy is your niece?
HANSELMAN: Yeah. She's my niece.
DIRKS: Just about everyone in town is connected to the grotto. Many remember Father Dobberstein personally. Some even lent him a hand. And they remember when tourists flooded in to see him work. While there are fewer visitors these days, thousands still come each year. Some are rock hounds who come to see what's thought to be the largest single collection of semiprecious stones in the world. Then there's Don Webster. For him, the visit is more like a pilgrimage.
DON WEBSTER: I just got cold chills all over. And when I've studied the history and all of the theology for five years in seminary and then to come here and see this, it takes my breath away.
DIRKS: The grotto is turning 100. And despite all its glitter, it's showing its age because the same environment that inspired Father Dobberstein is slowly eroding the rocks and stones here. For NPR News, I'm Sandhya Dirks.
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