Monowi ?

 

"There’s a difference between being alone and being lonely."

~ Elsie Eiler ~ 

It's been well over year ago. It started when owning a motor home was only a discussion. After Gina discovered writings of a place called Monowi (pronounced Mono-eye. But don't feel bad. We got it wrong, too), it was a destination place we knew we had to visit. It is nestled in the heart of our own state, after all, and we talked about taking a road trip in the car more times than I can remember.

As it turns out, our first big trip in our new-to-us home on wheels was going to take us right through the Village of Monowi, home to Elsie Eiler. Now, much has been written about Elsie and her little town, tavern, and library (a 5000-book collection her husband, Rudy, owned and housed in a building next to the tavern) since her husband died in 2004. You might even say she's gained national, if not worldly, notoriety. Monowi is the only incorporated town in the entire United States with a population of just 1, down from 2 after Rudy's passing. As our local newspaper editor would say, "It makes good copy."

But, we weren't nearly as interested in the fact the population was 1. We were mostly interested in meeting the person who makes up that "1." It was our lucky day. We cruised through town a little before lunch time and found a little pull-thru (more of a level ditch) where we could park our rig. The tavern was open and Elsie was at work...and we had her all to ourselves for the better part of an hour. To us, it makes little difference what things were reported before our arrival. We got the scoop first-hand.

Elsie Eiler is approaching 90 years old and still operates her tavern 6 days a week and often puts in 12-14 hour days. She struck me as less "warm" than I had imagined her, but despite the fact she tells her story many times a day to total strangers, she began to open up and show us the sweet older lady she clearly is. "I'm just not sure what will happen to this place when I can no longer do it," she reminisced. "I am almost 90, you know."

As we drank in the surroundings and ordered some lunch, Elsie told us bits and pieces of her lifelong story. The menu is pretty basic, and we're told, has been the same for years. A hamburger is $3.50, more if you add extras, and $3.50 is what you pay. It's not "plus tax," and I ain't asking who takes care of that.

If you're in a hurry,  just pass on by. This ain't Burger King and your food is prepped on electric fryers. Elsie moved at a leisurely pace as she prepped our food. It was exactly what we wanted. It gave us time to soak in treasures so many will avoid in their hurried life. There is so much to what she said, but so much more to how she made us feel.

1. Elsie grew up in Monowi and met her husband in Monowi. It's the only place she's ever lived (a single-wide trailer nestled in the trees near the bar) and the only place she's ever cared to live. "I've never wanted to live anywhere else," she smiled.

2. The Monowi Tavern doesn't have a bathroom. It has an outhouse. In fact, most of the tavern doesn't even approach "health code" as we know it today, but it's clean and inviting. In fact, code is part of Elsie's concern regarding passing on the bar when she's finished. Any new owner would be outside her "grandfather clause" and require the building be brought up to modern code. In my opinion, that'll kill it.

3. Elsie is not just the village's only resident. She is the only business owner, curator of the library, Chairman of the Village Board (she IS the village board), Village Clerk, Village Treasurer, and well, everything. 

I've been a village clerk/treasurer, so I have a basic knowledge of what it takes to run her little village. "Well, some years ago, we gave our Highway Allocation Money to the county so they'd maintain our roads. I'm trying to get some of that back," she quipped.  "When it's budget time, I just give the records to our accountant and he takes care of all that." 

There is much a village clerk is responsible for, like liquor licenses, for instance. Elsie signs her own liquor license application and the commission kindly looks the other way. It's been that way for years, and she is the Village Clerk/Treasurer/Mayor/Etc, after all. Hers  is the only property or income tax to be collected and accounted for. She takes care of all of it, all while operating a business 12-14 hours per day.

As we gingerly munched on our delicious burgers and tator tots, Elsie went on about things like her colon cancer, finding help on busy days, the future of the tavern and town, and how "this table right here is usually full of farmers having coffee." It was all magical...surreal even. The day we'd talked about for over a year was here and we were actually visiting with Elsie Eiler.

As we were finishing up, a pair of other travelers entered the bar, seemingly our cue that our magical time was nearing an end. We picked out a couple T-shirts that help pay for Elsie's existence, paid our bill, and grabbed a picture with Elsie. One of the two young ladies who had just entered the bar was gracious enough to take it for us. We said our goodbyes and walked out into the warm noon sunshine.

As I was walking across the little gravel road that runs in front of the tavern and up the hill to destinations unknown, I stopped...and then I cried. Gina, ever the caring wife and partner, put her arm around me and asked, "What's wrong, my love?

"It just occurred to me," I sobbed. "We're never going to see her again."

Take in the little things, my friends. It all goes by much too quickly.

Namaste,

Matt and Gina