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AUI Language of Space
AUI Language of Space
There is no specific location to highlight the work of Dr. John W. Weilgart in the Driftless Area, but it would be remiss to not include him in a tour of the weird that surrounds us in the Driftless Area.
Dr. Weilgart’s life work was devoted to creating a universal language, which he called aUI, the language of space. aUI is unlike any other language for a multitude of reasons – it is said that it can be learned in as quick as two minutes and thirteen seconds, radioed to distant galaxies, eliminate effects of prejudice, used for psychotherapy, and it is devoid of many traditional language structures such as synonyms, homonyms, puns, and slogans.
Having spent time across the globe in Japan, and across the country in states like California, the construction of aUI is in no way unique to the Driftless Area, but its founding father did spend a great deal of time in the Driftless. Dr. Weilgart was a member of the Luther College faculty from 1964-1978, where he was a professor of psychology. Additionally, Weilgart published numerous texts about the aUI language through Cosmic Communication Company, a now defunct company that is addressed to Decorah, IA.
In acknowledgement of the proposition that the language can be learned quickly, below is a brief lesson in the language of aUI.
aUI is composed of ten basic sounds that each have their own meaning; to us, these five basic sounds are the vowels, both capitalized and lowercase.
a = space
e = movement
i = light
u = human
o = life
A = time
E = matter
I = sound
U = spirit
O = feeling
The nasal sounds of these words correspond with numbers: a = 1, e = 2, i = 3, u = 4, o = 5, A = 6, E = 7, I = 8, U = 9, O = 10, Y = 0.
In addition to these basic sounds, plus the nasal sounds, there are 21 other elements of meaning essential to understanding aUI.
For further learning, we encourage you to scour the stacks of Preus Library for a handful of texts written by John Weilgart. Or, check out the aUI website, which is still active today and provides resources to learn the language. And when you have become an expert in aUI, let us know what is going on in the nearest galaxy.
Nisse
Nisse
Have you ever wondered why there’s milk in your slippers or a chair on your roof? Or more commonly, perhaps you’ve misplaced the set of keys that you just had in your hand or the glass of water on your night stand is mysteriously empty. If you’ve experienced these things, it’s possible you have a nisse on your hands. Nisse (niece-eh) are small mischievous creatures that freqent Norwegian neighborhoods, and have been long-time staple creatures of Decorah and the Driftless area. Though similar to the Nordic legends of trolls, they must be distinguished from them. Nisse (plural: nisser) are said to be under two feet tall with chubby cheeks and bellies and possessing a jolly temperament. Originally, nisser protected livestock from various threats, but today they are known to stay house-bound. They may perform certain chores to help the human inhabitants, but expect treats–beer, pastries, and dairy products like sour cream porridge (rømmegrot)–in return. If nisser are not offered treats regularly, they are said to play mischievous tricks on humans. This duality is almost akin to their human counterparts, which is probably why they prefer to live around humans.
There is a small exhibit on Nisse in the lowest level of Vesterheim museum, inside of the proclaimed “Children’s Section.” You can find more artistic rendition of Nisse and additional information on the small helpers/tricksters. Additionally, many Decorah residents have small graphics of a Nisse in their windows, usually wearing a red hat. As you explore Decorah, try to count how many nisser you can spot in windows. We’ve counted at least nine, but perhaps you can find more!
Doe & Fawn
Doe & Fawn
Outside the Oneota Co-op, you will find a metal sculpture detailing a pair of deer. This art piece, “Doe and Fawn,” was made by Victoria Reed, a Midwest-based artist. She was inspired by how different mediums can impose fragmented ideas and convey emotions, especially as reflections of their environment. The deer of the Driftless are bold indeed, especially the ones that roam Luther College’s campus and the town of Decorah. It’s not abnormal to see deer at any time of day roaming the area with their friendly, curious, and aberrant demeanors, which may be reflections of Decorah itself. Only a town as unique and abnormal as Decorah invites unique and abnormal expressions of the typical Midwest environment.
Look closely at Reed’s sculpture. What emotions do the deer convey, and what does their interaction with their immediate environment tell you about artistic expressions of ecological reflections in the Driftless?
“Doe and Fawn” are illuminated at night, so be sure to observe them after dark, perhaps with an ice cream cone from the Sugar Bowl in hand.
LOVINA B. BLACKMARR BENEDICT
LOVINA B. BLACKMARR BENEDICT
Did you know that our wholesome little town of Decorah had not one, but two brothels back in the 1800s? While establishments like these two, located near what is now Phelps Park, weren’t uncommon back then, individuals like Lovina B. Blackmarr Benedict were. Lovina, affectionately called “Mother Benedict”, dedicated much of her life to helping prostitutes and pregnant, unwed women escape bad situations. Lovina traveled to brothels all across the Midwest, including many counties in Iowa and going as far as Chicago to seek women in need of help. She would take them back to Decorah with her, where she had established a home entirely devoted to healing these women and helping them get back on their feet. She even assisted in over 200 births despite having no formal training as a midwife. It is no surprise that life was not easy for women in this trade; Lovina recognized the unfortunate reasons that women often were forced into prostitution, and the difficulty of leaving a brothel. Deeply connected to the community of Decorah, Lovina was greatly opposed to the two brothels existing near Phelps Park. She cared deeply about issues relating to womens’ wellbeing, helping to raise the age of consent in Iowa from 12 to 15 in the early 1900s.
Lovina faced her own share of tragedy. In 1871, her husband Harvey Benedict was blown off the roof of a house on Montgomery Street in Decorah, dying shortly after. Harvey was buried in Phelps Park Cemetery, joined later by their son Aiden S Benedict. It is unclear if Lovina is buried with her family in Decorah, or in Des Moines, Iowa. Perhaps she is buried near the potter's field that she helped to establish in Phelps Park Cemetery, where unnamed children and women from Lovina’s home were buried without headstones after death.
Sometimes, all it takes to make change is for one person to decide to help those in need. Mother Benedict touched many lives, and her legacy carries on to this day. Multiple Benedict Homes were established in Des Moines, Iowa. These homes helped women in the same way that Lovina did, and their legacies continue in many still-existing institutions throughout Iowa.
It should be noted that the Benedict Homes were far from perfect, as seen by this statement by the institution about their history: “A certain class of applicants, we are sorry to say, have to be refused admission on account of lack of suitable buildings and accommodations. Additionally, the home was not open to women of color. Like Decorah itself, Lovina’s mission had both positive components and negative ones that should not be undermined. Decorah is well-known for its close-knit and accepting community, but it should not be forgotten that women suffered in the brothels near Phelps Park, where we can look over the river and remember those who made Decorah what it is today.
Larsen Hall hauntings
Larsen Hall hauntings
Among the many quirks at Luther College, one stands out as both eerie and endearing: Gertrude, the ghost haunting Larsen Hall! She is said to be most often found on the third floor, but this spectral enigma loves to cause mischief across all of Larsen. She is said to move items, open and close doors, and even fold students' laundry for them. Legend has it that Gertrude was a would-be Luther student, tragically struck by a car on West Broadway in 1918, mere days before she was to begin her first term. Perhaps her unfulfilled dreams tether her spirit to the college, eager to participate in campus life in her own peculiar way.
But Gertrude’s antics aren’t the only spectral stirrings at Larsen Hall. Students and staff alike have reported unexplained occurrences, such as the ghostly click of high heels echoing through the hallways of the health services building. One particularly chilling account comes from Alison Shearer of the Residence Life Office. “I’ve heard footsteps when no one else is around,” she shared, “and the room above me always sounded like a chair moving. Later, I found out that no one had occupied that space all year.”
Whether it’s opening and closing doors, phantom footsteps, or lighthearted laundry service courtesy of Gertrude, the stories surrounding Larsen Hall’s ghost make it clear that campus life here isn’t just vibrant…it’s otherworldly!
ACCESSIBILITY: Only Luther residents may enter Larsen Hall as it is still in use as a residence hall. Driftless Weird encourages you to take a walk around campus and the building to get a good spooky feel!
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