Is This Heaven?

Last weekend I drove to Iowa to see my best friend Ranger Wayne. As I was passing the freshly plowed fields being prepared for planting, I saw a sign for Dyersville - "Home of the Field of Dreams". Without a second thought I took the side road, it was just 9 miles to the farm. Coming up over a hill, there it was...just like in the movie! There were only a half dozen or so people there. A couple was playing catch, and three young folks were laying on the lawn in the afternoon sun. I bought a disposable camera at the small concession stand and walked towards the field. I asked a young lady to snap my picture as I sat on the bleachers, she obliged. After that I strolled out to first base. It was concrete, not a traditional "sack". I suppose that was so no one would take it as a souvenir, though I can't imagine anyone stealing anything from that sacred spot.

I use to play first base as a boy. Later as a young man on a softball team, that position belonged to my friend Joe. He was tall and very sure handed. Standing there at first base, I thought about how the game of baseball had helped foster our friendship. I could feel his presence at that magical place, the same place where Shoeless Joe Jackson walked out from amongst the corn stalks.

When I finally got to Wayne's we had a beer and planned more baseball related activities. Weather permitting we would travel to Des Moines the next day to see the AAA Iowa Cubs game. Along the way we would visit the Bob Feller museum. Our best laid plans were dashed in that the museum was closed, and the game got rained out. Nevertheless, it was a great couple days. And I did experience The Field of Dreams. I still get shivers when I see the scene where Terrance Mann (James Earl Jones) says:

"Ray, people will come Ray. They'll come to Iowa for reasons they can't even fathom. They'll turn up your driveway not knowing for sure why they're doing it. They'll arrive at your door as innocent as children, longing for the past. Of course, we won't mind if you look around, you'll say. It's only $20 per person. They'll pass over the money without even thinking about it: for it is money they have and peace they lack. And they'll walk out to the bleachers; sit in shirtsleeves on a perfect afternoon. They'll find they have reserved seats somewhere along one of the baselines, where they sat when they were children and cheered their heroes. And they'll watch the game and it'll be as if they dipped themselves in magic waters. The memories will be so thick they'll have to brush them away from their faces. People will come Ray. The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It has been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game: it's a part of our past, Ray. It reminds of us of all that once was good and it could be again. Oh... people will come Ray. People will most definitely come".