Over the years I have become interested in the architecture of Frank Lloyd Wright, and have made an effort to see his work where I can. Fortunately, there is a substantial body of it, mostly in the Chicago area and in the upper Midwest. Some has been preserved, mostly by private groups, but occasionally by others. One such is the Walter home near Independence Iowa, which has been turned into a state park. I was in the Waterloo area, and decided to check out the house, since it was fairly close by. It was a weekday in early September, so there were not many visitors.
At the appointed time, the tour started. The only other participants were a couple who appeared to be in their mid to late 60's. The wife had caught my eye. She was a slender blonde wearing jeans and a black men's style shirt. She was rather small breasted, so even though she had the top three buttons open, she was not showing any cleavage to speak of. Still, she seemed to have an appeal. As we went through the house, she was quite interested in how it was laid out, appliances, furniture, etc., and was looking here and there, checking out all the details she could find. The husband seemed largely uninterested, as if he were just along for the ride, even humoring his wife's almost obsessive interest. In the living room was a grand piano. The wife asked if anyone played it. The ranger giving the tour said, not much now, but visitors are encouraged to play if they can, as it keeps the instrument in shape. I play piano, so I knocked out a couple of Bach Two Part Inventions and part of a Mozart sonata. I'm a little rusty from lack of practice, but everyone seemed impressed. At the conclusion of the house tour, we were encouraged to go down to the lake the home was built on and see the boat house, which, like most Wright designs, was distinctive.
The wife went down to look at it, and I followed a few minutes later, after checking some other features I wanted to see again in the house. When I got to the boat house, I found the wife inside, looking at the interior. She saw me come in and smiled.
"You play the piano beautifully," she said.
"I do OK," I replied. "I really need to practice more."
"No, that was great. I really enjoyed it. I was imagining what it must have been like to live in the house, with my husband playing for me like that."
I laughed. "We haven't even really met, but already you have me married up and playing your piano."
She smiled again. "Well, a girl can dream, can't she?? I'm Donna."
"Tom," I said. We shook hands. "I saw you were really getting into the house."
"Yes. I really like Frank Lloyd Wright's design work. I took an architecture course last year, it really turned me on to his work. Since then I've been seeking out the places he designed that are open to the public. This one is fairly close to the house-we live in the Quad Cities area, though we came up last night and stayed at the Park Inn over in Mason City."
"Yes, I saw that it had reopened. How was it?? I have not had a chance to stay there," I asked.
"Very nice," said Donna. "The room was elegant, and the restaurant there is very good. If you get the chance, do it, you'll like it."
"I surely will," I said. "It's about a day's drive for me to come up, so that will make a great stopping point if I'm going north. You'll also have to tour the Stockman home in Mason City if you have not already; it's open for tours as well."
"We saw it yesterday when we arrived. I enjoyed it, but I practically had to drag my husband there," said Donna with a hint of annoyance.
I chuckled. "I got the impression he'd rather be somewhere else."
"He'd rather be almost anywhere else," said Donna, laughing. "He retired a little less than three years ago, and would rather be fishing or tinkering with some electronic gadget!!"
"I can see that," I said. "A lot of people spend their working lives dreaming of being in a bass boat, or hunting down sharks. On the other hand, it's also good to get out and broaden one's experience. You can't fish ALL the time."
"You haven't met Frank!!" said Donna, laughing. "He could wake up with a fishing pole in his hand, and not let go til he went to bed. I'd do more of these on my own, but I don't drive long distances well, so he takes me. To be honest, I think he's just looking for more fishing holes. He really is a good guy, just obsessed. He spent most of his career in a technical field, and he tends to get single minded about things. It's tech stuff or fishing. He doesn't always see the value in the more aesthetic things in life."
I thought a minute. "I was going to ask if you've ever been to the Price Tower in Bartlesville, but I guess that's a silly question."
"No," Donna answered. "It's on my list though. It's one of his more interesting buildings. I understand you can stay there."
"You can," I said. "It was designed as a mixed use building, and has rooms on three floors. The rates are reasonable too. I've stayed there several times."
"Really!!" said Donna, perking up. "I'd love to do that, but I'll never get Frank to take me that far, and it's too much to do on my own. How are the rooms??"
"Fifties modern, about what you'd expect for the period, but obviously with the Wright flair. You'd like it."
Donna looked at me, her soft brown eyes glistening in the shadow of the boathouse. "I bet I would. I just have to figure out a way."
I dug out a piece of paper from my pocket and wrote down my email address. "Please don't think me too forward, but if you can ever get to southwest Missouri, I'd be happy to take you the rest of the way. Just shoot me a message, we'll work it out."
Donna looked at my address, folded the paper in half and stuck it in the front pocket of her jeans. She thanked me, and we headed back up to the house, where Frank and the ranger were waiting to go back to the visitor center. We all had a pleasant chat on the way back up, said our good byes and headed away.
Like most far from home encounters of this nature, I did not expect to hear from Donna. I was quite surprised when one day late in May the following year, I got an email from an unfamiliar address with Price Tower in the subject line. I don't usually open emails if I don't know the sender, or have an idea where it's coming from. Nevertheless, I thought this might be the one I was looking for. Sure enough, it was from Donna. She had decided that she wanted to see Price Tower, among other things, and was planning to make the trip to Oklahoma. She asked if I serious about my offer to take her there. I emailed back, saying, yes, I was indeed still interested, and sent my phone number along with asking for hers so we could make arrangements. Several emails and a couple of phone calls later, it was set. Donna would come down mid June, and I would take her over to Bartlesville, as well as show her Crystal Bridges in northwest Arkansas, and some buildings designed by Wright protΓ©gΓ© Fay Jones in the area.
It was a Thursday late afternoon when Donna arrived. She'd had a good trip down from Illinois, despite the 500 mile ride. We went to dinner at one of the local Mexican places, something she thought she'd enjoy, since there were not many in her area. I told her I was surprised to hear from her.