Rural Iowa is home to many faded map dots and little-known communities. Drive just one mile west from the Banwart family farm and you’ll stumble across Rodman, the “Small Town with a Big Heart” that was once a thriving mini metropolis to its residents and country neighborhood.
Today, few buildings and community members remain. On the south edge of town, the old brick school building stands silent yet resolute. From the outside, shattered windows and creeping ivy create a bleak and abandoned scene. Inside, stories lost but not forgotten start to unfold.
Behind the Brick
Although my family has had roots in the Rodman area all my life, I had never set foot inside the surviving school building. Thanks to a first-place winning speech I wrote about Rodman in the sixth grade, I knew some of the school’s celebrated history, including the success of its sports teams.
Rodman’s basketball teams made almost a clean sweep of Palo Alto County honors this season as the boys shared the county conference title with Graettinger at 5-1 and won the county tourney championship, and the girls took both the conference title at 7-1 and the county tourney.
– Memories of Rodman (1954-1955)
The Rodman Cardinals were known for their basketball, but they were even better known for Cardinal baseball.
The 1930-1956 baseball teams won either a spring or fall sectional title excluding one year, 1948. They won districts in 1930, ’36, ’51, ’53, ’54, ’55 and a sub-state title in 1954.
– Memories of Rodman
I was also familiar with my family’s personal connection to the Rodman School. Dad attended Kindergarten there, and Mom had the honor of graduating in the final eighth grade class when the school bell sounded for the last time on May 20, 1980.
In the spirit of adventure (and perhaps quarantine-induced boredom), my parents, brother and I were granted permission to take a self-guided tour of the Rodman School this summer. Camera in tow and armed with flashlights, we joked that had we brought our loyal Golden Retriever, Daisy, we would have resembled those meddling kids and canine sleuth from Scooby Doo ready to solve another mystery.
While we didn’t encounter any ghouls or ghosts, the scenes and history we rediscovered behind the brick gave us an extraordinary glimpse into the past and an experience we will always remember.
Stepping into the Past
On our first stop of the tour, Dad pointed out the Rodman Consolidated School cornerstone that likely contains a time capsule commemorating the building’s dedication day.
The present brick building was constructed in 1936 for $35,000. Dedication services were held on April 16, 1937. One month later, the class of 1937 was the first senior class to graduate from the new facility that replaced Rodman’s first school – known as the McCormick School – which was built in 1885.
A kindergarten class was added in 1946. In 1953, an addition was constructed on the south side of the building providing space for a large shop area, office, two locker rooms, furnace room, storage area, music room, home economics room and a lunch room.
Sadly, in 1966, the district ceased to exist and was absorbed by the nearby Cylinder, Mallard and West Bend School Districts. The school building was then used as a junior high school by West Bend until its doors closed in 1980.
As we entered the east entrance overcrowded by volunteer trees, our eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. Damp air filled our lungs. Just inside, the double doors separating the first floor hallway from the upstairs classrooms appeared.
We imagined what it must have felt like stepping inside the new school building all those years ago. Bright sky blue walls, modern classrooms and lots of space to roam?
Only 84 years later we found ourselves wandering through a much different scene. One that you might more readily compare to a haunted house or the latest thriller film.
The afternoon light pouring into the first floor hallway was a welcome sign that illuminated the doorways to the connecting classrooms, gym and janitors closet. It was only after we stepped foot inside the first classroom that we started to realize the extent of the school’s various states of disrepair.
Broken floor and ceiling tiles. Peeling paint and plaster. The otherwise empty rooms had suffered a great deal of damage from the unrelenting elements.
We tried to use the remaining alcoves and closets as clues to what purpose the classrooms must have served. In most classrooms, only haunting outlines of the original chalkboards remained.
Echoes of the Rodman Fight Song
Down the hall of the first floor hallway we came across the Rodman High School gym which had once been a place of pride for the boys and girls basketball teams.
We surveyed the empty ball room and peaked through the south entrance where the school stage once sat. As we descended down the stairwell to what would have been the gym floor, we found ourselves standing in the middle of a wild jungle.
Sunlight poured in through open skies. The gym roof had long since vanished and nature had nearly reclaimed the entire sporting facility once filled with loyal Cardinals, young and old, chanting the Rodman fight song.
Rodman High School. Rodman High School. Drive right down that line. Take the ball right down the court boys/girls, basket sure this time. Rah. Rah. Rah. Rodman High School. Rodman High School. Fight on for your fame. Fight Rodman, Fight, Fight, Fight, we’ll win this game!
Rodman School Fight Song
It was like standing in a Chernobylesque disaster zone. So many trees and shrubs had overwhelmed the space that the remaining basketball hoops were barely visible. But on the back wall of the stage, we found signs of life.
Etched into the brick we discovered the signatures, musings and scribbles of ornery schoolchildren. Some of the names we recognized, others dated back before my parents’ time. My Mom recalled sneaking backstage to pen her own inscription. It was a rite of passage at the Rodman school…as long as you didn’t get caught.
Ascending to the Second Story and Beyond
Our journey to the second story of the school building was similar to our ground floor expedition. The cold, steel staircase that led us there was eerie and a bit unnerving. No one wanted to go first, and no one wanted to be last.
Upstairs we explored more classrooms, a restroom with its wooden stalls and swinging doorway still intact, and the remnants of the former secretary’s office, with the school bell alarm system hanging crookedly in the corner.
At the north end of the hallway we climbed a ladder that provided us access to the rooftop. From up above, the blueprint of the building seemed small in comparison to our outdoor surroundings, including the Rodman Elevator located a little further up the street.
From this vantage point we could peer into the gaping gym ceiling, spot the Riverside Cemetery, and in the distance, make out the tree line of our farmstead.
Keeping Rodman’s Memories Alive
Walking through the school’s dark hallways that day changed my perspective. What struck me most about our unexpected tour wasn’t the physical damage and devastation we observed, but the deterioration of a town, and the memories and community members that have faded with it.
Many of us grew up near a Rodman, a small town with secrets and stories slowly being stonewashed into forgotten history. It’s up to us to keep those tales alive.
I asked my Mom to share her memories of her last day at the Rodman School.
There was a lot of excitement in the air that day. I remember sunny skies, the gym decorated with flowers and lots of people wandering through the halls. Several local reporters showed up and I remember our class president being interviewed. That seemed like a big deal to me as an eighth grader. Our band performed during the graduation ceremony – I played the flute – and the magnitude of the day struck me. We had never played in front of that big of an audience before! We walked across the stage and ended the day with an outdoor reception. It was a beautiful spring day.
– Kim Banwart
If you’re reading this and have a special memory of Rodman you’d like to share, I’d love to hear from you! You can send me a private message through my Contact page or add your recollections of Rodman in the comments below.
A special thanks to the late Ruby Besch who was a long-time resident of Rodman and dear historian and neighbor. Her collection of stories titled “Memories of Rodman” helped me write my sixth grade speech and now this story 14 years later.
