Doin’ Des Moines
I first came through Des Moines in 1962 when I was eight years old. My mother, sisters and I were living in Madison, Wisconsin while my mother was getting her Ph.D. My Uncle John, who was a retired Chief Petty Officer in the Navy and now worked as a janitor at a local school in National City, California, had won a big score at the racetrack in Tijuana and had used the money to buy a new car and drive back east as the conquering hero to visit his hometown of Ithaca. He and his Bronx-born wife Kitty, a sweet gum-snapping, cigarette-dangling gal of the hard streets of New York, were heading home to San Diego, and they stopped for a visit with us. On the spot, my mother decided it might be good for an eight-year-old boy living with three females to go for a late summer visit with his father in California. Several calls were made and it was arranged. I would travel west with John & Kitty and my father would collect me in San Diego so I could stay with him for a few weeks. So, off we went with me sitting in-between John and Kitty on the bench seat (no seat belts, of course) of their 1961 Oldsmobile sedan. I had done some road trips with my family on the Interstate before, but never wedged between two hard-smoking, hard-drinking characters that smelled like the older folks they were. We stopped when we got to the Iowa border and Kitty bought me a strawberry pop (this was the Midwest where soda is called pop). By the time we got to Des Moines, the combination of the strawberry pop and the closeness of the summer seating arrangement got to my stomach. I proceeded to hurl, as they say, all over myself and the dashboard of Uncle John’s new car. Navy men of the enlisted variety know lots of great swear words and I think I heard them all in the ensuing several minutes as John swerved around on the road trying to decide his next moves. We stopped at a Des Moines gas station while Kitty got a fresh t-shirt and shorts out of my bag for me to change into in the Texaco station men’s room while John swore while cleaning up the front seat. Welcome to Des Moines.
I’m not sure I ever got back to Des Moines until many years later. I can remember two other visits, one to visit with the state Treasurer about investing in some financial product or other for the state’s pension plan. That was less memorable than a visit I made with Representative Steven King, the congressional member most associated with white nationalism of anyone else in Congress. That trip was about ammonia as I was running a small ammonia company looking for funding from someplace like Iowa, where ammonia is a mainstay of growing the state’s number one crop, corn. I will confess that I didn’t know enough about King before flying to Des Moines and he certainly seemed courtly and polite enough…but then again, I’m white the last time I looked. It was only later that I recognized his high-profile and derogatory reputation, which eventually brought his congressional career to an abrupt end in the 2020 election cycle. Goodbye Des Moines.
This visit has been to testify in an arbitration case that involves a significant Iowa family, who has been present in force for the full length of the arbitration. I have now spent two days with them, eating at every meal, sharing dishes and discussing the progression of the case. They are extremely nice people and very welcoming. It’s interesting to see people of humble Midwest beginnings who have become wealthy enough to go anywhere or do anything in the world that they wish. They all still live in the same town of 3,000 souls in which they all grew up. Even the married children who went to live elsewhere in their adult lives have found their way back to their home town. I have gone to the extent of snooping on Zillow to see where their homes are and I note that while they all live in nice homes (at lest from the bird’s eye view), they are not living a relatively lavish lifestyle and seem to more blend into the norms of the community than not. I also note that their combined business are, I suspect, a major support to the economic life of the community since they have prospered and driven local employment in a very positive direction. They are what you would call stand-up members of the community (I say that without knowing anything about their political leanings and I certainly understand that being from a rural part of Iowa makes it more than likely that they vote differently than I do, but so what?)
I am staying at a Marriott Renaissance Hotel that is about three blocks from the Marriott Bonvoy Hotel where our hearings are being held. There is absolutely nothing wrong with my hotel and I find my room perfectly comfortable. Being a few blocks away has allowed me to walk around the town a bit, but I will note that there are very few pedestrians on the street, as nice as the weather has been here this week. I suspect that Iowa is as much a car culture place as California. Here at the Marriott, which is the largest hotel in town, we have several of the conference rooms on the third floor (floors 1-3 are common rooms rather than hospitality rooms). All of the conference rooms in the hotel are named after cities in Iowa. Given that there are a number of rooms in this conference center, some of the named rooms are named after pretty small cities. We are in the combined Cedar Rapids Room (population 135,000) and the Council Bluffs Room (population 62,000), and our team’s “War Room” is the Sioux City Room (population 86,000). These cities are not like the big apple of Des Moines, which carries a population of 204,000 and is the biggest city in Iowa, which makes it the 14th largest city in the country.
I’ve been pretty surprised at the quality of the restaurant meals I have had while here in Des Moines. Somewhere along the way I had forgotten that what is synonymous with being in the Corn Belt is that where there is corn there is generally a lot of meat being processed. In fact, Iowa is not only the biggest corn producer in the country, but it is also the biggest meat processor. The big products are pork and beef and, I must say, I haven’t tried the Iowa pork this trip (maybe tonight), but I have had several steaks that were terrific. The problem I now have after teaching a module in my ethics course on Factory Farming and all the perils and negatives of what that does to our society, environment and personal health is that eating beef and pork (and chicken for that matter) is that it all makes me wonder about whether Iowa could possibly be enlisted to reduce its meat processing businesses. My guess is that that is unrealistic and that in my lifetime, Iowa will still be cranking its slaughterhouses until perhaps the younger generation gets up in arms about changing all of our lifestyles.
I will be here in Des Moines for another day and then, just like back in 1962 with Uncle John and Aunt Kitty, I will be heading out to San Diego. I must say that I’ve enjoyed getting to know Des Moines on this visit. I’ve also enjoyed it especially because I’ve gotten to know some real Iowans and they have been a pleasure. Its not necessary to like your clients in the expert witness game, but it sure is nice when you do. I’m not sure that I will have another reason during my life to get back to Des Moines, but until then I will think fondly of the town and remember my week in 2023 of doin’ Des Moines.