You can't get more north in Iowa than Spirit Lake, which borders Minnesota and is part of a chain of lakes known as the Iowa Great Lakes. Spirit Lake was originally inhabited by the Dakotah tribe and French traders - who'd settled there - coined the name "Spirit Lake" after an Indian legend of an evil spirit that haunted the lake. Spirit Lake is the county seat for Dickinson County and is a growing community.

My contact from the school was Sarah DeWild. Like most Iowans, she is very proud of her charming lake community and as a gesture of good will offered me an informational package and coupons from the local shops. The weather turned sunny so we decided to walk over to the SAMI center for the performing arts where I was to speak. I was impressed with the multi-million dollar faciility that was only two years old. The stage was immaculate and was as large as a high school basketball gym. Our shadow baseball game was received with many laughs. My crew improvised their own scenes. One middle school student took my rubber eye and plopped down so hard on her bottom that the rubber ball bounced off the stage. I thought it was lost forever. But a considerate student three it back to me.

The students at Spirit Lake were ready to have fun and boy did we have fun. I actually had my own sound/lighting engineer adjusting the volume/lighting as needed. The lights glowed with such intensity I couldn't really see the packed house in front of me. I have to adimit I was a bit taken back when one of the students said that his dream was to become a hostage negotiator. I had to wonder how one prepares for such a career.

Preparations were underway for the spring walleye run. If I didn't have to travel to North-Scott I'd have liked to stay. There's nothing better than smoked walleye. If you ever find yourself traveling through Iowa you don't want to miss Spirit Lake and the fun-loving townies whose secret is now out. There are no haunting spirits at Spirit Lake, only spirited children who have the luxury of living by and fishing in such a pristine lake.

After a five-hour drive and brief road trip spent in Minnesota, I headed south on highway 86 and found Northland Inn Motel which was in between Lake Park and Spirit Lake where I was to speak.

The next morning I drove toward Lake Park and was comforted by a digital sign outside Lake Park's Middle School that read: "Welcome Dr. Paul Mullen - Author." I've seen such school signs welcoming me many times now but I am still tickled by the nice friendly gesture.

I spoke to 150 K-5 students. I had the best umpire. I'd call him a reincarnation of Harry Karry without the wide-brimmed glasses. "Cubs win! Cubs win!" Every time a dispute was raised by a rather boisterous runner who actually head-dived on a hard gymnasium floor in his attempt to beat the forced double play, my young Harry rang up the batter to allow my skit to go by flawlessly.

My over ambitious batter did redeem himself though when I asked him what was the best bait to use to catch a catfish. With the wisdom of the old man in the sea, he said, "Chicken livers." I am always impressed by students who live in farming communities away from the bustling city crowds. I do feel that children in the country gain a better appreciation of the earth and what it has to offer at such a tender age.

My host, Deb Morrow, gave me a tour of the school which was once the high school. There was plenty of room for many more elementary students and I hope that parents will relocate to the charming community of Lake Park where their children will learn what I learned long ago: That chicken liver left in the hot sun to get ripe and really smelly does indeed catch the biggest catfish.

The night before I was speak to the students at Delhi Elementary I drove an additional 12 miles east on highway 20 toward Dyersville because Karen George graciously offered me the use of her Downtown B&B in Dyersville during my two-day stay.

While Karen tidied up a bit, I chose to run a few miles on Beckman's all-weather track. I couldn't recall where the burst of energy had come from but I ran two miles with the ease of a tortoise running against a hare. The clouds overhead darkened and years of living in the Midwest gave me a clue that a storm was definitely brewing. I hobbled back to the B&B. Karen quickly gave me a tour of the house where the crew from Field of Dreams had once stayed. The first place she showed me was the basement because word had quickly spread about a tornado heading this way. It wasn't five minutes before Karen had left and then the tornado warning alarm blared and an eerie stillness took hold. I galloped down to the basement and a rumbling roar of fallen tree limbs gave me a clue that formidable winds battered the brick structure.

I thought to myself: "Great! I've come all this way to get caught in a tornado." Then the electricity shut down and I was cloaked in darkness.

I could almost hear Hannibal slurping behind me saying, "It was good of you to come, Clarice. Slurrrp!"

However, mercifully the tornado didn't have a lock on the house and the electricity turned on. I bid Hannibal ado and slumbered back up to the cozy room that Karen had decorated like one of those Better Homes and Gardens pictures.

The next evening I was invited to speak to the Delhi Elementary Parents at Parents' Night. Becky Willey had done an excellent job with her door prize giveaways and newsletter to the parents to try to gain awareness of the literacy event. However, the Maquoketa high school track meet and poor weather conditions caused a lower than expected turn out.

It is difficult to speak to a light crowd of 10 parents and 12 children. The children suddenly become very reserved and my speech draws on the children's enthusiasm. I mustered all my enthusiasm to put on a good show despite the quiet peeps I received from the few volunteers I dragged up to the front.

I was finally able to break the silence and even noticed reserved smile on parents' faces when I read about Creeper and his glass eye. Unveiling Erin's Team USA uniform at the end drew claps of appreciation - and yet the dismal weather had like the evening before dampened the enthusiasm.

I was then given another chance to redeem myself when I was invited back to the elementary school on Tuesday to speak to the K-5 students about the art of writing. The children this time had come to life and with it lots of enthusiasm - like riding a bike as they say. We had created our own fictional story with each student having an opportunity to add their own unique pizazz to the story.

Becky said it was amazing. Students who rarely volunteer had astonishingly shown excitement and contributed their bit to our group story. The story was about a boy who gets in a fight with his sister and is disciplined by his mother, who cares for her ten children. Our main character and his buddy slip away. They catch a 5 pound lake trout and the youngster surprises his mother with the fish, which she graciously cooks up for supper.

I then talked to grades 3-5 and we developed a rather interesting sentence about Captain Hook and his dying just as he falls from a cliff. As I headed west toward Spirit Lake, I felt the reading mission had been accomplished in Delhi. The sun had actually slipped through the few remaining rain clouds.

Note from the owner of Field of Dreams:
dr. mullen,what lovely sentiments of your visit here to the field of dreams movie site. thank you for writing about us, and we do hope you will have the opportunity to visit again one day.

Becky Lansing Field of Dreams Movie Site
www.fodmoviesite.com
info@fodmoviesite.com

Dyersville's Field of Dreams article
I have now logged over 7000 miles in Iowa and have spoken to well over 30,000 students. And yet, somehow I've eluded one of Iowa's most cherished baseball fields.

However, this time because of the generosity of Bill & Karen George, owners of Uptown B&B in Dyersville, I find myself only three miles away from the immortal field. It was time for me to drive the three extra miles to Dyersville East Road and turn right on Lansing Road to offer tribute to Iowa's most beloved ball diamond.

When I arrived at the field and crossed over the bridge the homestead was just as I remembered it from the 1989 movie. The grass was a lucious green, the infield had faded red dirt, the farmhouse was pristine with white clapboards, there was that indelible porch swing tucked under a wraparound porch, and a white-washed picket fence in front, serving as a reminder of what was once good could become good again.

I opted to have a seat on the wooden bleachers on the third base side. A storm from the west loomed and dark thunderstorm clouds approached. Students from a local community college were playing a pickup game on the field. Wind whistled through a stand of majestic pine trees. A songbird chirped in its effort to re-unite with its mate. Fertile soil as black as peat had recently been sown in seed. Soon, corn shoots would sprout and provide a towering backdrop just as sturdy as a home run wall. The spirits of immortal ball players like Shoeless Joe Jackson, Babe Ruth, and Lou Gehrig would emerge from the swaying field of healthy stalks to play a baseball game like yesterday of old in the traditional sense, as the game was intended to be played.

I could almost smell charcoal briquets, grilled hot dogs skewering, freshly squeezed lemonade, and movie theater popcorn handed out to the fans in brown-waxed lunch bags for a dime each bag.

A crack of a bat, fans rising to their feet, an overzealous runner trying to stretch a double into a triple, a gallant throw from the right fielder, a hush in the stadium as the ump waits for the dust to settle to make the call. "Safe! Safe!"

Over 65,000 loyal baseball fans make this pilgrimage annually to Dyersville's Field of Dreams. In their quest, fathers/sons - mothers/daughters find a way to make amends through a game called "catch". Where else can one find such an idylic setting that invites each of us to dream our own unique dream?

Is this heaven? No, it's Iowa - a bastion that serves as our final frontier. Where close-knit communities and gold-domed county courthouses remind us of what once was decent and whole can and will return again.

I had to rise at 4:30 in the morning if I was going to make it in time to speak to the students at Nodland and Sunnyside, which is over 3 hours north and west of Des Moines. Sioux City has a population of approximately 140,000 people. It has been named twice as an All-American City. Lewis and Clark documented their travels west through the region in 1804. I was impressed by all the modern structures being built in Sioux City. The city has a fabulous mall and I couldn't resist a deep-fried chicken sandwich at Chick Fil A located in the food court.

I was greeted at Nodland by both my host, Staci Page, and her principal, Mrs. Hess. Nodland is one of the newest schools built in Sioux City and was built to showcase the district's most modern school to new arrivals. The K-2 students were a bit hesitant upon seeing me. In fact one of the students reported to me that his friend thought I was the devil.

Once I asked for volunteers the students warmed up to me and then shouted with enthusiasm over Creeper and his glass eye. None of youngsters could quite figure out how I got Creeper's eye in the bag.

Staci escorted me over to Sunnyside to speak to grades 3-5. Staci volunteered her daughter to read from the book and at the end of my speech introduced me to her athletic son. Staci is very involved in the school district having been elected PTA president and much of her time is spent between baseball practice, hockey practice, gymnastics, and gaining support/interest of the parents in the school district. I have to commend Staci for placing her three children in the school district she teaches. It shows how proud she is of Sioux City's school district.

A controversy erupted over best screamer when the girls cheered for their favorite female screamer and the boys cheered for their favorite male screamer. I was booed by the boys for selecting the girl. I quickly doused the issue when I began talking about slimy fish, smelly chicken livers, and wiggly nightcrawlers. Boys love such gory details.
In the end I was able to make amends to the boys when I closed the assembly talking about baseball and living out dreams. I had a swell time and I think the many shouts of joy and laughter meant the kids had fun, too.

I have to admit I didn't sleep much the night before I was to speak at Ankeny's Parkview Middle School. Parkview is the largest middle school in Iowa boasting 1250 sixth and seventh graders. In addition, middle school students are a hard audience to reach especially with me trying to inspire them to live out their dreams. Most teenagers have already experienced a few let downs in their lives and I was out to re-inspire them to use their gifts to become successful leaders.

Mike Nieland greeted me at the door. Mr. Nieland had everything already planned including the room which was used as a study hall. It was quite intimidating seeing such a large empty room the size of many country schools' gyms that I had already visited. The plan was to speak to approximately 300 students in four one hour sessions.

Mr. Nieland and I had many of the same shared values. Like me, Mike grew up loving baseball in his home town of Dubuque. He said at one time Dubuque was a mecca for baseball. Mike also has a passion for teaching excellence having been a teacher for over 30 years. Mike helped ease my anxiety through his terrific support. He'd have fit in nicely with our gang and no doubt we had already shared many of the same baseball adventures.

I was amazed when I asked the first set of seventh grade students for volunteers for a game of shadow baseball that nearly 200 hands were raised. And the students I had selected jumped up and cheered in their excitement. We had so much fun and gelled so well that the hour passed by quickly.

I called on all four groups to use their special gifts that such a prestigious school district like Ankeny offered them in terms of academic excellence to become the leaders of tomorrow. The room fell silent when I began to read Jordan Saddoris's essay on Your American Dream. Jordan is a seventh grader at Parkview and chose to enter my Iowa writing contest. Jordan wrote: "I think that America stands for everyone's dream coming together and making a magnificent society that anyone can thrive in. Small towns grow into big cities, a family owned business turns into an international corporation, a Scottish immigrant who comes to America with nothing and dies a billionaire. All of these show that your American Dream is out there alive and well; now you just have to find the way to achieve it."

Through Jordan's inspirational words the students from Parkview learned that hope and dreams come through individual achievement and because of their fortunate situations opportunites - at least for many of them - were unlimited.

It is my hope that these students will find it in their heart to share such wealth with others not so fortunate.

Marsha Kerper made good on her commitment to the students at Madison. She promised to throw out the first pitch at an Iowa Cubs game if her students read collectively 160,000 minutes as a group exercise in one month.

Prior to the game between the Isotopes and the I-Cubs, over 200 parents and students were rewarded to delicious tacos in Madison's cafeteria in celebration of the event. In addition, Madison used special funds to purchase tickets for students from grades 3-5 and their parents to attend the game free of charge. The school purchased copies of my Principal Park book for these same students which complemented the literacy event nicely.

The excitement and anticipation for the star pitcher from Madison was such it didn't take much for me to jumpstart the students about the importance of living out their dreams. I also wore my baseball uniform just like most of all the other attendees who wore Cubs uniforms. After my speech, I had a mother hold me and tell me that my speech moved her to tears. She had been trying her best to encourage her daughter to strive to do her best and she felt my speech helped to confirm her same message.

While Mrs. Kerper was whisked away to the stadium, I stayed behind at Madison to talk to parents about strategies they could use in setting purposeful goals for their children. By the time I arrived at the stadium, Mrs. Kerper had already thrown out the first pitch and she was quite pleased with her bullet strike. She had hoped I could have joined her; however in truth this was her moment for her students and while I'd have loved to have thrown out a first pitch, this was Mrs. Kerper's moment to shine to the delight of her deserved students/readers.

I enjoyed the game except for the lopsided score in favor of the Isotopes. Like most fans, I took advantage of the dollar hot dogs. Principal Park is a beautiful stadium and one that more Des Moines residences should take advantage of. Where can you go for dollar hot dogs? Promotional tickets of one dollar and even regular priced tickets of 4 or 5 dollars? A family of four could have a nice time at the game for a lot less than going to an amusement park and the I-Cubs are currently in first place. I give Mr. Bernabe credit for offering so much for such a little price to I-Cubs fans.

At 8:00 p.m. we loaded the two buses and I said my fond farewells to a great group. On my way out to my car I couldn't help but notice the many metal trailers surrounding the school including the many low-income brick dwellings. At least this night these students and parents were given a first-class glimpse of the American dream. All any of us want is to share in the wealth of this great nation and to feel a sense of normalcy - which is what we can share in together at a baseball park. What I saw at Madison were proud Americans willing to try hard and these proud citizens counted on these skilled teachers to help teach their children how to help better themselves through education - not a hand out per se, rather a boost up just like immigrants before them had received.

While driving on Sunday to Greenfield which is approximately an hour and forty-five minutes southwest of Des Moines, I struggled to keep my Honda Civic from being blown into on-coming traffic on SR 92. Wind gusts were reported at over 40 miles an hour. From my stay in Iowa, I knew why Iowa is one of the states leading the nation in harnessing wind energy.

I was struck by the rolling meadows and the black dirt which would soon be planted in corn for ethanol - another fuel product that Iowa excels at producing. Gas prices are usually 15 to 20 cents cheaper in Iowa because of its bio-fuel processing centers.

I was to stay upstairs in one of two rooms at the local optometrist's Greenfield office. When I arrived at the eye doctor's office, I was somewhat surprised because the door was left open and on a small table was an envelope with a key inside of it for me. I climbed the stairs and found a charming room that even included its own restroom. It was already nice and cozy and so after getting my things I needed from the car I decided to explore on foot the town of Greenfield. The courthouse - which is Adair's county seat - was located in the middle square. The town was situated in traditional Lancaster style which means cars enter and access the town's local businesses on one of four corners and the more traveled streets via the mid-block of what I call a square within a square - which is very rare and only a few towns today are still structured in this traditional fashion. Parking was free and because it was Sunday the town was desolate with a few hardy bikers smoking just outside the local bar.

I was amazed to find a screen printer in one of the red-brick buildings and the opera house and "Old Hotel" caught my attention. I stopped near a cement bench by the red-brick hotel and read the metal plaque: "In memory of Hugh Sidey and hundreds of Adair County men who left from the Greenfield Hotel steps to serve around the world in WWII."

I found out from Dan Dickinson who was like the town's historian as well as my guide during my visit to Nodaway schools that Hugh Sidey's family owned the local newspaper, which is still printed today under "Adair County Free Press". Hugh was a local legend and one of the town's most famous citizens having been a "Time" reporter covering the White House and U.S. presidents for nearly a half century.

In between my speaking engagements, Dan Dickinson gave me a tour of the 1896 E.E. Warren Opera House that Yvonne Schildberg purchased and donated to the town. The Opera House had fallen on disrepair and Dan and several local residents were busy raising money to restore the turret style opera house to its original lavishly styled luster. In addition, Dan had Lee Ann Nelson give me a personal tour of the Iowa Aviation Museum and we toured the only Iowa Aviation Hall of Fame wing in Iowa. The museum houses a 1928 Curtiss Robin and is the oldest Robin known to exist. As well, the museum has a restored 1941 Aetna-Timm which was built in 1941 and as one of only six models, this Aetna-Timm is now the only one of its kind. There are many other planes at the museum and these were the planes that Schildberg collected throughout his life. His brother, Dennis, was an avid collector of classic corvettes, corvairs, and antique Chevrolets. His personal car collection is located near the town square. The Schildberg family owns 20 limestone quarries.

My time with the students was both exciting and fun. Over 30% of the students purchased a Principal Park book which made me realize that dreams still flourish in Bridgewater, Fontanelle, and Greenfield. I should also take note that Norman Lear found Greenfield charming have produced "Cold Turkey" which starred Dick Van Dyke, Jean Stapleton and Bob Newhart in the 1969 Hollywood movie.

When you visit Greenfield you will discover a charming community that holds on to its lure of yesteryear while finding itself struggling financially during this economic downturn. In each of us is the desire to remain immortal through our life's work/passions and I have to believe this is why the Schildberg's were such avid collectors. I have to believe this is why Dan Dickinson is so passionate about restoring the old opera house, too. I hope Dan succeeds but I already know that in my book he has already succeeded through his 33 years of teaching children who call him "Mr. D."

Thank you Mr. D. and the community of Greenfield for the hidden jewels the world should come discover in your tiny nook of Iowa.

After a few days off and a much needed return to see my family in Ohio, I was back on the road to Knoxville, Iowa - birthplace of the Iowa Flag and National Sprint Car Hall of Fame and Museum. The Knoxville Sprint Car Championship Cup Series was just a few weeks away from starting its new season.

My first stop was to the Middle School where I met Mr. McNeill. The students were just a few days away from state testing and Mr. McNeill believed my message would help inspire his students to perform their best on their required tests. I was placed in the auditorium that was decorated with props for a high school drama performance. The couch, throw rug, and antique furniture was a nice touch even though it hadn't been prepared for my speech. The auditorium was filled to capacity even though Mr. McNeill had told me that student enrollment was down nearly 70 students from previous years. I started off asking the students their dreams and one young lady was certain she'd become a judge and one young man was also certain he'd become a manager after graduating from college.

What seemed to attract these students most was my candid talk on my daughter and I's troubled relationship when Erin was their age. I let the students know that it was up to them to talk openly with parents about when they needed a parent's support and when they were ready to try it alone. The students gave me a riveting applause at the end of my speech and so I hope I helped inspire them to further their success in education.

When I reached East Elementary, I met Jeanne McCombs. She was reading a book to kindergarten students in her library and the students were enthralled with the story of a young girl who was in search of where she had last placed her library book.

A few minutes before my speech I was met by Mr. Montgomery (Mr. M is what the students call him) and he then told me the surprising news. Mrs. McCombs and he had raised enough money to purchase each family in their school one of my books. Mr. Montgomery is a seasoned professional and yet I could sense from him how proud he was - as he should be - of this remarkable accomplishment.

Before my speech, I informed Mrs. McCombs that she should let the students know about the town's gift to them after my speech. It was after my speech that Mrs. McCombs tried forcing out the words but struggled through tears of joy. When she told the students that I was going to personally autograph all 170 books the students cheered. I noticed Mr. M. standing by the door and I could see this pillar of a man fighting back his own emotions. I realized then how important this moment was for Mr. Montgomery and Mrs. McCombs and in many respects what may have been a turning point for these students in terms of appreciation for the gift they were going to receive.

I just dropped off the three boxes of signed books and it was Mr. Montgomery who met me at the door. The students had a day off but there stood Mr. Montgomery no doubt waiting on me to drop off the books. He said that over and over again the students said to him, "East Elementary is the best school ever."

I thanked the principal and said, "If only we could find a way to sustain the children's enthusiasm through high school?"

It wasn't easy for the principal respond to such a wishful thought.

I can only hope that the East Elementary students take their gift and learn what Fuji learned long ago: That a gift should never be taken lightly. And it is up to each of us to return our gift someday for the betterment of all in time.

Thank you Mr. M and Mrs. McCombs whose heartfelt joy inspired in all of us that their indeed exist champions in educational excellence.

I have to admit I was excited about visiting Paul Norton. After hearing favorable reviews from other Bettendorf schools regarding my visit, I'd been told that the group I'd be presenting to was also very excited about my visit. Lindsay Connor had made the arrangements for my speech and she was a little nervous having so many students gathered in one collective group. I assured her that the students would have fun and this seemed to ease her concerns.

As promised the students were very enthusiastic and highly charged from the baseball skit and Creeper's Glass Eye reading. One fifth-grader asked me who was my favorite baseball player?

When I told him Pete Rose.

He responded, "How can you admire a player who bet on baseball?"

Students aren't afraid to ask the tough question. And yet, most students can only perceive of our world as either black or white. So I responded in this way: "When I was young, we'd nicknamed Pete Rose as 'Charlie Hustle' because Pete would always strive to turn a single into a double. He'd always go for the extra base and gave one hundred percent. As a young boy living in a lower class neighborhood in the 'burbs' near Cincinnati we also knew that Pete was once considered an average player and had it not been for his heart and determination he may have never become an All-Star player.

"While I can't agree with Mr. Rose betting on baseball, I can look back and remember Pete for his exceptional grit and determination to succeeed in a game I've always loved to both watch and play. Pete gave us hope despite the tremendous odds against us, and so this is why I admire him for what he has done for the game of baseball and me and the gang - who like him - will always strive to stretch a single into a double."

After my speech to the K-2 students, I shook hands and gave students high-fives wishing them well. One young boy squirmed in anger in the arms of his teacher. When I asked the student what was wrong he said, "You never asked me what about my dream?"

Unfortunately, I have so many students raise their hands when I ask them to come to the front to confess to their fellow students their dreams that I can't fit them all in. So some students are left disappointed when I don't call on them.

So I took the disappointed boy to the side and asked him to sit next to me on a bench. His teacher placed him beside me. He sat their stiff and rigid and refused to make eye contact with me until I said, "I knew your dream is very special and so I've made sure you have my personal attention now to tell me your dream."

The anger flushed from the yongster's body and his smile returned. He proceeded to tell me his dream and all was soon forgiven. His teacher thanked me and he gladly walked back to his classroom with her.

In a recent article in the Des Moines Register I was called the "Dream Doctor" and in many respects perhaps this is a role I'm willing to take on to help children realize that dreams can and do come true. It is why I am right now writing a picture book to appeal to K-2 students, so that way even if I can't call on them one by one from the audience that my words of hope will still reach each of them in the form of an inspirational book I call "My Birthday Wish".

Thank you, Lindsay and Paul Norton. I hope your anticipation of my visit was as rewarding to you in the end as it was to me.

I have to admit that I was excited to visit Neil Armstrong, a school that was built in 2007. Neil Armstrong was born in Wapakoneta, Ohio and was the first astronaut to step foot on the moon on July 20, 1969. Armstrong is also noted for his ...one step for mankind speech...upon taking his first step on the lunar surface. And yet, I admire Armstrong most for his willingness to give back to Ohio through his teaching career at the University of Cincinnati and his willingness to remain a fellow Ohioan despite his celebrity status.

It should come as no surprise that when I asked the students at Neil Armstrong what were their dreams? The responses I received were as follows:
"I want to be the first astronaut to walk on Mars."
"I want to ride in a rocket."
"I want to fly!"
"I want to fly my own UFO spaceship."

I think Armstrong would be touched by these students' responses - by his contribution to Nasa's space program and how he has sparked the interest of these children decades after his moon walk in the exploration of space.

I want to thank Melody Gustas and Mr. Hatfield for their exceptional support of my visit. As great an honor it was for me to speak at Neil Armstrong, what I will remember most regarding my visit are the poignant responses from the students like: "Dr. Mullen. I had a dream but it didn't come true."

So I asked the young girl what was her dream? She responded, "I dreamed that my dad would spend time with me over the weekend but he didn't."

I also heard from another student: "How do you believe in a dream?"

We are a nation of creativity and tremendous potential to do well. Forty years ago, we were the first nation to walk on the moon. And yet our most important mission heeds our calling: To inspire our youth in the belief with hard work and dedication that dreams can and do indeed come true.

I've never seen the blue earth from a spaceship. But what I have seen are tears and disappointment in the sad faces of children who've lost hope in us. A child's smile means more to me than the beauty of space. It is the children who I fight for so they can dream the dream.

So how I dream is by reaching out and giving back to one student, one school, one state at a time. This is how I dream and why I believe in the goodness of our children.

Jefferson is a quaint school near a nice park. It is a smaller school that gives it a more personal touch. My host was Sarah Hampton who went out of her way to accommodate me. The gym was small but it fit the students well for its class size. The children were quite excited especially when I mentioned Sound Author's writing contest which gained their immediate attention when they heard the winner would be interviewed on live national radio.

I found the students highly gifted in art. When we read from the Dad/Fuji scene, the young lady who played Dad gave us her "man voice" and captured Dad's raw anger from his son's poor performance/attitude on the playing field. I was tickled by her skill to grip her fellow students with such raw emotion.

If you ever get a chance to stay in the Quad Cities and have children 8 years old or younger, I recommend you take them to the Family Museum located in Bettendorf near the public library off Middle Road and 18th Street. Some of their special displays are Amazing Acres where children can touch a 10-foot tornado. Children can also travel through a 14-foot human heart, interact with themed play houses or paint or scavenger hunt. The museum always has special guests who perform magic, sing, and entertain. The museum also has dance lessons for all age groups. So if you want to spark your child's curiosity or explore their interests, I recommend you visit the indoor Family Museum.

I'm just a few days away from a needed spring break. I've been on the road living in some pretty shabby hotels/motels communing with bugs and stale cigarette smoke leaching in my room in my desperate attempt to save up enough money for the 1000 books for the book give away at Principal Park.

My final stop before traveling back home to Oxford, Ohio for a brief rest is Bettendorf to talk to 5 of their elementary schools. The locals refer to this part of Iowa as the Quad Cities, which represent Bettendorf and Davenport, Iowa and Moline and Rock Island, Illinois. The Mississippi River divides the two states.

Most hotel rooms go for over 100 dollars a night in Bettendorf, but I found a motel for under 35 dollars and the old adage is certainly true: "You get what you pay for."

Grantwood

My first speaking engagement was at Grantwood. Most of Bettendorf's schools are within a few miles of each other and the goal is to keep the schools below 400 students. Grantwood is a small school that offers each student a personal touch. I spoke to the students in the library. The students sat on carpeted benches while I spoke to them about the meaning of a do-over. One student was insisted that he'd play in the NBA and he was off to a good start in terms of his height advantage over all other 5th grade students. I had a pleasant time and my host, Chris Iossi, ensured all went well.

Mark Twain

I don't know why - call it my own humble beginnings - but I found my visit at Mark Twain similar to my visit at Brubaker in Des Moines. Beth Campbell was a key reason. She was very excited to have me there and made me feel special in so many ways. The kids were highly charged, wanting to excel, and it just felt like I had a lot in common with these students. A speaker does indeed feed off the excitement level of his/her audience.

What was most touching was when I asked one first-grader what her special dream was. She told me with confidence, "To become a singer."

I thought I'd have some fun with her by asking her, "Would you like to sing for us?" I have never had a taker for this brave feat until now.

The first-grader smiled and shook her head up and down. I placed the microphone to her mouth and out came one of the most beautiful voices I have ever heard. She reminded me of the one young girl in "August Rush" who sang at the Spring Concert in the Park. I often talk to students about living out their dreams and here was this gifted child with the voice of an angel singing her poignant song of hope.

I was honored by her lovely voice and praise can't describe my true thoughts over the inspiration this young girl has given me.

Van Meter which is 10 minutes west of Des Moines and one mile south of I-80 borders the Raccoon River. Van Meter is Bob Feller's home town where this baseball Hall of Fame legend would play a game of catch with his father between the red barn built in 1886 and the farm house he still calls home.

In an article written by Hoffman, the journalist writes about the seventeen year old "Rapid Robert" and how his 100-mile-per-hour fast ball struck out 15 batters to give the Cleveland Indians a victory over the St. Louis Browns and then Feller went on to pitch 17 strike outs against the Philadelphia Athletics. In 1936, no other pitcher besides Dizzy Dean had been such a formidable force.

Bob Feller's memories including many of his precious sports memorabilia are now on display for the public to view in Van Meter. One noted item that Dennis reports is the Babe Ruth bat that Babe leaned on when he said good-bye to his beloved fans at Yankee Stadium in 1948.

It shouldn't come as any surprise when I stopped at the local Casey's before my speech the first thing I noticed on the glass entryway door was a bold sign: "No wearing of any [baseball] cleats allowed."

It was a cloudy overcast morning and the air was breezy and cold and spitting a few snowflakes. The parking lot was jammed pack because the secondary and primary school are interconnected. When I finally figured out which door to enter, my host, Shannon Miller, greeted me. Shannon has fiery red hair and I just assumed she was Irish or Scottish. She was very excited to see me and because Van Meter is a baseball town she said the kids had been fired up for days.

During my speech, I was offered the privilege of being the first to use the brand new cordless microphone in the old gym. I was particularly impressed with the athletic prowess of these students and had to wonder if there was something in the water that gave them their extra athletic boost. Even the seventh and eighth grade students were excited to play a game of shadow baseball and we were having so much fun that I extended the skit trying to throw them off guard as to what my next move would be. I had met quite a wholesome group of students who were polite and courteous and certainly appreciative of my offering. In fact when I asked for questions only the ladies offered up a few to delay going back to class. However, when I told the boys that whoever raised their hand first with a question for me would receive a free X Games hat you should have seen the boys' hands fly up in the air.

It was quite a treat to talk to these students. When Feller was asked if he could relive his most memorable moment what would it be? He said, "Playing a game of catch with his dad."

I had to wonder if Feller's response was where "Field of Dreams" had gotten its idea for one of its most famous scenes. I had to wonder how many of these young, gifted students might be fortunate enough to have their own museum or memorabilia on display at Bob Feller's museum.

One thing for sure though, Van Meter, Iowa is a place you can call home.

Garton Elementary has over 500 students in grades K-5. The school had been built in 1958 but recent renovations gave it the apperance of a new school.

Jaynette Rittman was my host and is an affable principal with a kind and caring face. I could tell right away that she was committed to her students in the way she'd hoped to find funding to give my book to each student because she believed the book offered her students hope and the will to dream big.

While preparing for my speech, I was surprised to find out that a young lady had painted me a mural of my baseball book. The artist was very shy and yet she braved my glowing praise for her masterpiece. Mrs. Rittman made sure to snap a few pictures of me and the student in front of her painting. I promised the artist that I would send a copy of the photo to Chris O'Leary who illustrated my book cover. I knew Chris would also feel honored by this student's rendering of the cover he'd conceived.

The two presentations went well and we certainly had fun. I felt extra motivated by having Mrs. Rittman in attendance. Creeper and his glass eye completely mesmerized these students. I must have pulled out of my pocket an original glass eye that is used in wax museums for life-like figurines at least a dozen times as proof that the glass eye was indeed real.

A few more book orders had come in during my speeches and Mrs. Rittman asked if I wouldn't mind staying to autograph these new orders. Then, Mrs. Rittman did something that was truly touching. She gave the school's library copy of my book to the artist as a gift and asked if I wouldn't mind writing a few words of inspiration in the book for her glowing pupil. I have to admit that I never get writer's block, but I was trying so hard to convey the right message that I stumbled over what to write. Then I looked into the young girl's eyes which were bold with anticipation and the words just naturally flowed. I needed to show my appreciation of this young girl's gift in a more personal way. So I asked her if she wouldn't mind my giving her hug as a thank you. She said that was fine, but because she was shy she braved through my hug. Still, I felt her yearning - the same sort of yearning all artists feel in using their gift to move us in ways we might have never known.

You - young lady - are definitely a talented artist. You've moved me. Now find a way soon to move a tumultuous world that needs your gift of compassion and understanding.