This photo was taken yesterday. But it might as well be from a different era.
Yes, just yesterday The 57th Street Corn — our avatar of hope and resilience and possibility — still stood. Short but proud, she stood unbowed by the throngs of automobiles and constant construction at the corner of 57th and Minnesota Ave.
And we say “she” purposefully, for signs of new life spouted from her side. A solitary ear was growing there, tawny tassels waving in the wind, a sign that future generations of corn might someday spring from the concrete, a sure sign that mother nature will reclaim what was once rightfully hers, a reminder that fertile prairie soil still lurks below the pavement.
But now? She’s gone. Ripped from her crack-like furrow, laid to waste. It’s 2020 after all. Could we expect anything less?
So take a moment today to remember her. Pour yourself some corn-based bourbon and join us in a toast to The 57th Street Corn. The Corn That Could.