We had one more leg to go. Get from Kansas City, through Missouri, Iowa (also now known as Obamowa), and on into Wisconsin. On the way we passed this interesting tidbit at a rest stop. I'd never heard of the Amana Colonies, but my dad was very familiar with them. Evidently they're the most successful communal experiment in American history. The rest stop had a marker commemorating the efforts. I was shocked at what was on the flipside. Here was a people who had successfully created a commune, sharing everything in common. And then, in the end, they had given in to that dread demon, mammon. They had changed from an enterprise where no one counts his own goods as his own, to something that was the epitome of capitolism, with stock options and everyone looking for his own bit of the pie. The worst part of it was it was so easy to see how this could happen. Every religious movement wanes in successive generations. Lasting for 100 years is a great feat. And when the fire has died, you look to continue in a way that makes sense, that fits the culture of the now you are in. It was all shared before. Let us continue to share. But we are each going his or her own way. So we must share individually. We will have our own share of the pie. We will have our own stock options. We will fit in to American society, while still retaining some of our roots. Because if you can't take it with you, better get it before you go.
Thirty minutes out of Madison, we broke down again. It was now 3 PM, and we had to be in Middleton by 7 in order to return the trailer and not have to pay another $20 penalty. (Every day we're late we have to pay an extra $20. As of today we've been delayed a week.) Bill went off to get some more parts for the RV, and was gone for over an hour, as he searched for a store in the middle of Wisconsin farm country.
I don't pretend to know all the problems with this RV, and all that happened to it. It's some mixture of not having gas, and the carborator, and the alternator, and the starter, and all those a few times. I don't know much about cars. But Arthur C. Clarke said, "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic." A primitive society would see what we do as either magic or that of God. So let us review.
Bill came and fixed the RV, making it run again. Miracle One. A few miles down the road it broke down again, with a different problem. Bill fixed it again. Miracle Two. And today, he returned, like a white night, in his white cowboy hat and leather boots, with the right part, and suddenly, the RV was running again. We drove down the road, the dog house off the engine between the front seats, and Bill spraying WD-40 straight into the engine as he drove. As Leonardo da Vinci is rumored to have said, "Still, it moves." Miracle Three.
It takes three documented miracles to make someone a saint, according to the Roman Catholics. This is why I declare he is now St. William of Tuscony. He brought us all the way from Belen, New Mexico, to Waunakee, Wisconsin, where we sleep tonight in our assigned lot in the park. We stopped on the way to return the trailer, and praise God, we were charged only $25 for the damaged plastic fender. Today, this week, Bill was the manifestation of God to us.