When Tom’s alarm rang at 6:00am on Tuesday August 2, 2022, I couldn’t wait to be positioned upright again. For the second night in a row, I spent the entire time upside down while my surgically repaired arm had a chance to heal. It was a huge relief when my bandages were removed, and my right arm seemed as good as new. The biggest question on my mind was whether or not the Gorilla Glue was strong enough to get me through the entire day without another incident. It doesn’t hurt when my arm falls off; however, it is very embarrassing. I know people stare and poke fun at the disabled bobble head, which makes me feel like a one-armed butler – I can take it, but I can’t dish it out.
Although the sky was mostly sunny when we left Hotel Rapids at 8:45am, the forecast was for potential strong storms around noon in the Grand Rapids area. When I heard the weather report, all I could think was: “That would be incredibly symbolic for the three of us to be inside Judy Garland’s childhood home during a tornado. I know I’d be screaming like a schoolgirl and yelling ‘Auntie Em, Auntie Em’ if I saw a funnel cloud coming our way!”
Even though we were less than three miles from the Judy Garland Museum, which opened at ten o’clock, it took roughly 45 minutes to get there. No, it wasn’t because the brainless Scarecrow had pointed us in the wrong direction on the Yellow Brick Road. Our delay was due to Vicki’s desire for a bagel and Tom’s inability to find a bagel shop. After a futile attempt where we drove in circles for a half hour, we ended up at McDonald’s just down the street from the museum where my photographer’s wife settled for an Egg McMuffin.
We finally made it to the parking lot of the Judy Garland Musuem at 9:40am, which gave my photographer ample time to capture exterior images of the birthplace home before anyone else had arrived. The two-story white-clapboard home was originally advertised as the place where Frances Ethel Gumm was born on June 10, 1922. We found out during our tour, however, that the youngest of the Gumm sisters was actually born in Itasca Hospital, which had been transformed into an apartment building over the years and was located roughly two miles north of the museum.
Tom had hoped the three of us would be the only ones on the home tour, but unfortunately that wasn’t the case. When we got inside the museum at 10am to buy the tickets, my photographer discovered that four others had already purchased on-line passes for the home tour. Initially, my cranky camera man was miffed by the news. However, while Tom meandered through the museum and photographed some of its collection, he met the folks who would be inside the home with us. It turned out to be a grandmother, Kathy, and her three granddaughters, McKenna, Elise, and Laura. And as luck would have it, all four girls were huge Elton John fans, which became evident when they saw Tom’s ‘Farewell Yellow Brick Road’ concert shirt he was wearing. After my photographer discovered their affection for Ol’ Captain Fantastic, and they seemed interested in the artifacts and learning more about Judy Garland as well, the grumpy old fart relaxed a bit. I had to laugh to myself when I heard the grandmother say they were on vacation from Virginia, which of course, was Thomas Jefferson’s home state. That fact alone made those girls just fine in my book, until I realized they may have come from Virginia, Minnesota, which was about ten miles east of Chisholm.
The museum, albeit somewhat small, had some incredible artifacts on display from all aspects of Judy Garland’s life. While we saw some photos, clothing, and shoes from different periods of Judy’s life, it was the three movie props from ‘The Wizard of Oz’ that stole the show for Tom and me. Even though an original pair of Garland’s Ruby Slippers were stolen from the museum in 2005 and were replaced by a replica pair, which was a letdown, we did notice an ‘Oz’ test dress worn by Judy that was nearby. We also saw a display case that featured an ornate spear carried by one of the Wicked Witch’s ‘Winkie Guards’. But the piece de resistance for us, and one of the main reasons we made the trip to Grand Rapids, was the ‘Oz’ carriage. That’s right, the carriage that was pulled by the “Horse of a Different Color” in the Emerald City was the centerpiece of the museum. And as a bonus, it was alleged that the same carriage was one of five once owned by none other than President Abraham Lincoln. Talk about a two-for-the-price-of-one deal for me!
Our tour of Judy Garland’s childhood home was led by Museum Director John Kelsch, who was an authority on the life of the famous actress and her family. When our group of seven walked into the back door of the historic home, it was as though we took a step back in time. Even though the renovated house had been moved several times before it found a permanent home on the museum’s property, it was cool to be inside the place where Judy Garland spent the first four years of her life. Most, if not all, of the furnishings inside the house were period pieces; however, the floors and staircase were original to the home. At one point, while we stood in the living room, it seemed as though I could hear two-year-old “Baby” Gumm as she rehearsed for her first performance at her father Frank’s movie theater where she sang ‘Jingle Bells’ with her sisters Mary Jane (Suzy) and Dorothy Virginia (Jimmie) Gumm. After that Christmas presentation, the “Gumm Sisters” performed at their father’s theater for the next two years, accompanied by their mother Ethel on piano.
Please strap on a pair of Ruby Slippers and follow the Yellow Brick Road to the images Tom captured during our time at the Judy Garland Museum in Grand Rapids, Minnesota on the historic and memorable day of August 2nd.
“No – and never will again, I fancy. There’s only one of him, and he’s it. He’s the Horse of a Different Color, you’ve heard tell about.”
That’s how we laugh the day away, in the Merry Old Land of Oz!
Bzz – bzz – bzz, Chirp – chirp – chirp – And a couple of La – di – das.
That’s how the crickets crick all day, in the Merry Old Land of Oz!”
Before we left the Judy Garland Museum and headed for Itasca Hospital, my photographer couldn’t refrain from offering some friendly advice to a staff member. Since Vicki didn’t want to hear any of the discussion, she shook her head in disbelief and left the building. Seconds later, I heard Tom tell the woman that the museum’s advertising of the home as the birthplace of Judy Garland was misleading – she was born in a nearby hospital, not in that house. The lady said: “Well, it was the home where she was taken after she was born, so that’s why we call it her birthplace.” Tom shot back: “Birthplace means the place of birth – and that was the hospital. The house next to the museum was Judy Garland’s first childhood home; not her birthplace.” The woman replied: “I guess I never thought of it that way, but you’re right.” With that, the two of us danced our way along the Yellow Brick Road and out to the parking lot where Vicki was waiting – and still shaking her head.
At roughly 12 noon, we arrived at the Grand Plaza Apartments, which was located across the street from Angel of Hope – a quaint riverside park on the south side of the Mississippi River. What made that three-story brick apartment complex so special to us was the fact it was once the Itasca Hospital where Judy Garland was born on June 10, 1922 – just four years after the hospital had opened. As Grand Rapids grew over the years, a larger and more modern facility was constructed several miles to the west. Thankfully, the old Itasca Hospital building wasn’t demolished, but instead was refurbished into an affordable housing complex for the citizens of Grand Rapids.
Vicki stayed with the Jeep while Tom and I walked closer to the building for our photos. As my photographer carried me around the hospital in search of the perfect spots for our pictures, I noticed dark, ominous clouds had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. There was a definite threat of rain in the air, and I thought I heard a distant rumble of thunder. It appeared the severe storm the meteorologists had forecasted was headed our way, and right on time. Just as my photographer took his last picture, it began to rain.
Tom and I made it back into the Jeep before either of us got too wet or struck by lightning. There was little doubt in my mind that Grand Rapids was in the direct path of the oncoming storm. But according to my photographer, we didn’t have time to wait for it – our next site on the agenda was nearly 100 miles to the west. His decision didn’t matter to me – I figured for sure our route would take us directly into the teeth of the storm anyway. Would we run into hail, high winds, heavy rain, or maybe even a tornado? Heck, I would’ve settled for a rainbow – which would’ve been ironic after visiting Judy Garland’s home and birthplace. But as we headed northwest out of Grand Rapids, the center of the storm seemed to be to the south of us. There were no high winds or hail. No torrential downpour. Nada the funnel cloud. And the only rainbow we saw was on a flag flying from someone’s porch near Cass Lake.
The sky was mostly overcast when we arrived at Itasca State Park’s East Entrance around 2:00pm. However, our journey to the furthest western point of our trip wasn’t quite finished – we were still nearly eight miles away from the headwaters of the Mississippi River. The drive along Main Park Drive was slow and laborious, and just when I thought it couldn’t get any more lackluster, I heard someone yell from the front seat: “Stop! Stop! A black bear; it just ran down into the brush.” Sure enough, my photographer saw the head and shoulders of a medium-sized black bear before it did a quick about-face into the weeds. The only part of the animal Vicki saw was its hind quarters as it scurried away from our Jeep. I was disappointed; when I first heard Tom yell, I thought he saw a Sasquatch. Then it turned out to be only a bear just trying to pilfer a few pic-a-nic baskets from the park’s campers.
At the end of the line, we arrived at the parking lot of the Mary Gibbs Mississippi Headwaters Center – only to discover it was packed. During the drive through the park, I had hoped the three of us would be alone at the headwaters; but that obviously wasn’t going to happen. After a quick stop at the gift shop, the three of us made our way along a thousand-foot-long pathway to where the Mississippi River begins its long journey to the Gulf of Mexico.
The Mighty Mississippi River appeared harmless as a newborn baby; its shallow water trickled its way over a dam of rocks at the edge of Lake Itasca. Before Tom took me closer to the water’s edge, I saw an informational sign which boasted the length of the river: ‘Here, 1475 ft above the ocean, the Mighty Mississippi begins to flow on its winding way 2552 miles to the Gulf of Mexico’. But was that information accurate? The U.S. Geological Survey suggested the second-longest river in the country was only 2,300 miles long. The EPA had listed the river at 2,320 miles in length, while the Mississippi National River & Recreation Area estimated the river to be 2,350 miles long. I knew one thing for certain – the water I saw flow over the nearby rocks would end up in the Gulf of Mexico 90 days later; providing it didn’t evaporate or was consumed.
During our hour-long visit at the headwaters, I had hoped Tom would let me dip my toes in the Mighty Mississippi, but that didn’t happen. I think he was too worried about falling into the river if he tried to carefully set me into the water. I laughed to myself when I envisioned my tubby photographer falling into the river and floating downstream; splashing and wailing for 90 days until he reached New Orleans. Nah, he would’ve never made it that far. Tom would’ve been stuck under the log bridge just 200 feet into his “float down”.
We made it back to the Jeep around 3:30pm – of course, my photographer had purchased an ice cream cone at the on-site cafe, and he devoured it during our hike back to the parking lot. Seconds after Tom finished his cone and he placed me back inside the camera case, it dawned on me that we were at our furthest point west on the trip. As soon as Vicki fired up the engine, we were on our way south and east; headed towards St. Cloud, Minnesota where my photographer had planned for us to spend the night.
For the next 160 miles, we danced with the Mississippi River as we headed for the Country Inn & Suites just west of downtown St. Cloud. During our game of tag with the second longest river in the country, we had crossed The Big Muddy several times; and with every crossing, the river seemed to be just a tad wider each time. Then out of nowhere, roughly halfway through our journey, we spotted Sasquatch near the town of Motley. Vicki locked up the brakes and had the Jeep on two wheels as she pulled off to the side of the road. There wasn’t just one Big Foot, mind you, there were three of those elusive critters. And unlike our black bear encounter earlier in the day, Tom managed to snap a clear image of our discovery.
My companions were exhausted by the time we reached our hotel at 6:45pm, but they still needed to find a place to have dinner before retiring for the night. Once Tom and Vicki were registered and had all of their gear lugged to the room, the three of us went to Texas Roadhouse, located only a short distance down the road from our hotel.
Back in our room by 8:15, Tom placed me alongside the television set where he and I watched the Detroit Tigers play the Minnesota Twins. The two of us had an interest in the game because my photographer and his wife were taking me to Target Field in Minneapolis the following day. I had to admit, it seemed good to once again stand upright instead of being forced to lie upside down with my arm in a sling all night long.
After the lights were extinguished and I was left alone with only my thoughts, I couldn’t help but think about Judy Garland and her roller coaster life. Little Frances Gumm started performing at the age of two and never stopped. By the time she was 12, she changed her name to Judy Garland; five years later, “Dorothy Gale” was headed off to see the Wizard with three strangers and her dog. And while that movie defined her career, it also defined her path as a person dependent of drugs. Garland appeared in over 35 films and countless television shows; touching audiences young and old alike. And like “Dorothy”, Judy spent her life searching for happiness; having been married five times. But in the end, Garland couldn’t click her heels together three times to give herself a “Happily Ever After”. On June 22, 1969, Judy Garland was found dead from an overdose of barbiturates in the bathroom of her rented London house. She was only 47 years old.
“Someday I’ll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far behind me. Where troubles melt like lemon drops, away above the chimney tops, that’s where you’ll find me – Somewhere over the Rainbow.”
