Only in Iowa is the passing of the State Fair butter cow sculptress a front page story in major newspapers. And the topic of state newspaper columnists. And a lead story on TV and radio broadcasts.
Only in my Iowa childhood was the famed butter cow sculptress’s name worthy of dropping at family and social gatherings. “Norma ‘Duffy’ Lyons?” my mother remarked whenever the opportunity arose. “The State Fair butter cow sculptress? She and Harlan went to Iowa State University together.” The pride in Mom’s voice was unmistakable.
Dad grinned and nodded right along with Mom from 1960, when Norma assumed the mantle of butter cow creator, until his death in 1997. He couldn’t remember his kids’ names for the last 10 years of his life, but when Mom mentioned Norma and her creamy creations, his face lit up with a look that could have melted butter.
Norma wielded her butter knife until 2005 when a stroke ended her long career, and the apprentice she had trained for several years took over. Dad’s former classmate died on June 26, 2011 of another stroke. When I called Mom and told her, she answered excitedly, “Norma ‘Duffy’ Lyon? The butter cow sculptress? She and Harlan went to Iowa State University together, you know.”
“I remember hearing that,” I replied.
“Her maiden name was Stong,” Mom went on. “So Norma and Harlan were seated alphabetically in class. Stong, then Stratton.”
This was new information, and a new and elevated level of name dropping, to boot. What’s more, Mom’s facts were confirmed in a newspaper story in the Des Moines Sunday Register which says Phil Stong, the author of the novel State Fair, was Norma’s uncle. I marveled at Mom’s ability to recall facts, especially in light of our shopping trip last week when she had to ask three times about who would receive the anniversary cards she’d picked out. (The answer is me & my sweetie and Anne & her sweetie if you’re wondering.)
Only in Iowa would the name of a butter cow sculptress revive memories in minds ravaged by multiple sclerosis and Alzheimer’s. Which reinforces a belief that grows dearer the longer I live in this small, rural, unpretentious, sweet-as-butter state.
Only in Iowa is where I want to live.
