I just returned from a two week trip to South Dakota attending a conference, visiting family, friends, and shooting loads of photos. I spent most of one week sorting through my grandfather’s letters, newspaper clippings, photographs, and books. Under lamplight, in a quiet basement office, Grandpa guided my research from beyond yonder. This research led to many discoveries and even more questions.
My mind’s eye is somehow seeing everything torn, creased, faded, scratched, or yellowed. I saw my new photographs in the same way when I got home to Vermont.
Perhaps that’s why I find myself looking backward. The past has a clarity I can no longer see in the present. —Kristin Hannah/The Nightengale
A special thanks to everyone who made my trip so quite special.
Jo and Mark, there are far more photographs I want to share. Your dedication to Herrick’s history is inspiring, and the dance hall is gorgeous. When you offer memberships, please let me know.
My focus (obsession) continues to be my paternal great-granduncle, author & Sioux Falls, South Dakota dentist—William Otis Lillibridge 1879-1909. His 1905 book, Ben Blair was turned into a silent film in 1916, seven years after his death. His widow, Edith Keller Lillibridge was instrumental in getting the film made by Paramount.
I’ve sort of adopted my Uncle Will as my muse…a fellow creative. Reading his work and researching his life has made him feel quite real to me. I’ve learned a lot about his parents, siblings, the home he grew up in on the border of the Dakota Territory in Akron, Iowa, and his life in Sioux Falls. NOTE: I went to college in Sioux Falls and never knew his dental office was down the block from one of our favorite restaurants, Minerva’s.
“As everywhere upon the prairie, the quiet was almost a thing to feel.”—Ben Blair
We certainly have a shared love of the prairie. Maybe he would approve of me recasting myself in his film just for fun…or possibly find no humor in these images whatsoever. From what I’m learning, he seems like he was a rather serious fellow. However, with no one left one to ask, I’m left with little to base my hunches on.
BEN BLAIR—ACT I
The Sanity of the Wild
…in the warm sunny plat south of the barn, a small boy and a still smaller girl were engaged in the fascinating occupation of becoming acquainted. The little girl was decidedly taking the initiative.…she had an independence, a dominance, born perhaps of the wild prairie influence, that at times made her parents almost gasp. …bleared faces and keen hawk-like eyes were more closely drawn. The dull rattle of poker chips lasted longer, frequently far into the night, and even after the tardy light of morning had come to the rescue of the sputtering stumps in the candlesticks.
Florence touched his arm. “Ben,” she pleaded,
“Ben, forgive me. I’ve hurt you. I can’t say I love you.”
