2008 Year in Review

WHAT DREAMS ARE MADE OF

We have to dream a little to create special things. Morrison's leaders have never been short on dreams.

We finally did get two pocket parks in town, but in 1919 the business leaders had far greater plans--a park that would take up an entire city block in the heart of Morrison.

The land in question contained a grocery store, a feed store, and three dwellings. The square was bounded by Main, Base, and Orange Streets and Lincoln Way. The property was owned by John Vandenberg, Charles and J. A. West, and Elmer Richardson. They had agreed to sell the property to the city at a reasonable price. The committee in charge was to solicit money from the locals, and one leading citizen had already given a substantial sum to start the campaign.

When a sufficient amount had been raised, the buildings would be removed, the land graded, and grass seeded. To quote the Sentinel, "an ideal park will be laid out, with trees, shrubs, flowers, fountain, benches, and a band stand provided with a comfort station. The park will be used for all kinds of purposes, such as, public meetings, band concerts, etc., and will be an ideal place for children and grown-ups alike to spend a few hours during the long hot summer evenings."

I don't know quite how, but there was supposed to be parking space for "hundreds" of automobiles to be parked around it during band concerts and other community events. It was a wonderful dream!

In 1930 it was time to dream again. Alonzo Smith, of the Oak Ridge Mausoleum Co. of Dixon, came before the Morrison City Council asking for a two-year option on a site for a mausoleum in Grove Hill Cemetery. The option would grant 10,000 square feet in the northeast corner of the cemetery. The building would be one of the most beautiful in the state, made of concrete, marble, bronze Bedford limestone, and copper. It would provide a chapel, 250 crypts, private rooms, receiving vaults, lavatories, and would have a basement. The fate of the project would be in the hands of the people of Morrison. If they supported the project, it would be built; if not, it would be dropped after the two-year period was up.

As I look around today, it is obvious that the people of Morrison liked to dream, but perhaps didn't always care to pay for those dreams. I see a post office, businesses, fire station, and city hall instead of a park. At the cemetery I see no huge and beautiful mausoleum, but, instead, a well-kept cemetery. Of course, as the song says, “We Can Dream, Can't We?”

by Orville Goodenough, Guest Columnist
November 15, 2008