Why Dubuque? Prophecy, Listening, The Voice

The day we first entered the building 
that would become Smokestack
September 1, 2013

The real reason Scott and I are in Dubuque today is that while in Dubuque for the first time, on July 6, 2013, we spent less than 24 hours here and we both heard a voice simultaneously tell us that we needed to be in Dubuque and we had to do it - leave our established life in Brooklyn, NY, and set out for the unknown in Dubuque, Iowa. And then, knowing we were not going to be able to get a loan to buy this property, we sold Scott's apartment in Fort Greene, an apartment I once hoped to live in with him, and it funded the majority of what we've done in Dubuque with Smokestack. It was the only way we could make "whatever it would be" happen on this property, so we moved to Dubuque five months later, basically knowing nobody, without connections, friendless, yet open to meeting, knowing, and simply being among new people. 

You might wish to listen to Scott's song, Tree of Heaven, while reading, just hit the "play" button. This one song figures prominently in this post, plus it is my favorite of Scott's songs.

TREE OF HEAVEN - SCOTT CORNWELL w/ SWEETHOOK

Having heard this voice that spoke to both of us in that moment for as long as I can remember, I listen for it and call it many things: the voice, conscience, truth, the voice of God (that one discomforts some), the collective consciousness, that little inner voice. I know others hear it and listen for it also, and that some of those people are Quakers. I went to Brooklyn Friends School, a Quaker school, K-12, so I was raised in Quakerism in a way, it's a large part of my inner life and was a large part of my public life for a long time. That voice has told me things directly and indirectly as long as I can remember. It has led me to answers I could not have anticipated. It has never led me astray and, even though that voice has brought Scott and me to what I believe is the challenge of our life, I trust in it. For me, that voice is the only thing that matters, it is the only thing true and real in this world. 

Scott, July 6, 2013, sitting at Stone Cliff Winery
Right after we drove into Dubuque for the first time

It gets worse than our recognizing the voice, hearing a calling, and then acting on it. We'd been here maybe two months when I realized that we were living his song "Tree of Heaven" almost word for word. Scott had prophesied our entire Dubuque experience before we'd even met. 

And so, the second of Dominic Velando's questions from his unpublished interview for Grain, the magazine of the Dubuque Area Arts Collective, in 2016 with Scott and me about Smokestack, and our response. We've now fulfilled much of the vision we outlined below for this building: created a three-level venue with two public rooftop terraces and a public garden. It's an amazing space, every individual space in the building is unique, and we get to share this one-of-a-kind building with the world.  


Dominic Velando:
Explain what you are trying to accomplish with your building.

Susan & Scott:

2nd floor, Smokestack, September 1, 2013 

Our vision has always been to save this building and share it, in its entirety, with the public - first floor, second floor,

rooftops - public rooftop terraces are where it’s at and they are coming to Smokestack - and maybe even the cavernous basement one day. Leaving it all as much as possible as we found it, making the building viable and safe for modern urban usage as happens in other cities while also maintaining the unique historic interiors, exteriors and the soul of the place. There is a unique beauty, peace, energy and a visible, palpable history in this building and property that must be shared with others. We felt this was sacred ground the moment we set foot here and we later learned that it is sacred ground with national significance, that it’s history and importance have been forgotten and misunderstood for at least a century. 

We are two outside-the-box thinkers with an outside-the-box project. We have an organic process in which the building tells us what to do and we bend to it. We never intended to be business owners, we never intended to open anything like Smokestack - an arts, culture and entertainment venue with restaurant and bar that reminds us of some of our favorite grown-up experiences in NYC, and then implementing a for-profit arts & culture model because we know, from our experience in NYC and with non-profits, that many non-profit organizations unintentionally maintain the status quo while benefiting those already possessed of power and privilege, and, further, that funding and donors are limited with so many non-profits out there. For-profit arts & culture models are relatively new in Dubuque and Iowa, but are successfully used elsewhere and have potential for significant positive economic impact. All of this developed on its own as it suited the building and was reflected in community sentiment as they first entered our building in 2014, super-raw then, even after we spent months cleaning it.

2nd floor, Smokestack, September 1, 2013

1st Floor, Smokestack, September 1, 2013

We know this might sound odd to some, but we knew immediately, in Brooklyn when we first found the property online, that this was where we were supposed to be. We know now that this building and property were calling us from NYC, that there was a reason we took that road trip in 2013, unexpectedly stopping in Dubuque midway between Scott’s hometown of Prairie du Sac, Wisconsin and Grundy County, Iowa where Susan’s great-great-grandfather was elected its first County Clerk in 1856, the same year our building was finished and opened to the public as a hotel. In 2013, we had no intention of leaving our life and family in NYC, of coming to a place knowing nobody and doing something most people would think is crazy, but that is what we have been led to do.

Scott prophesied our entire Dubuque experience over twenty years ago when he wrote his song “Tree of Heaven,” one he introduces as “This is my wife’s favorite song, it’s about the end of the world.” The phrase “tree of heaven” is another name for the tree Ailanthus Altissima, known best as the tree from the title of the novel “A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.” It’s a tree that will grow anywhere, even through a tiny crack in concrete and it was waiting for us, strongly growing on our property in Dubuque. Scott may have written that song about the real Brooklyn, particularly our Fort Greene neighborhood, but his song "Tree of Heaven" truly describes, in almost painful detail, our new life and experience in Dubuque.

TREE OF HEAVEN
Lyrics and music by
Scott Cornwell, written 1995
In case you haven't heard it yet...

Our home and Smokestack, September 1, 2013
Tree of Heaven? Those trees at left

I go down to the river
Down where the water flows
Down by the old train tracks
And the broken factory walls
And the lot where the tree of heaven grows

I go down by the water and
Rest my back against some cold concrete slab
I see the city sleep
I hear the sirens cry
For some dream somebody never had

Looking through the eyes of the windows at night
And I wonder
"Can we make it through another day?"
Looking through the eyes of the lonely street lights
And I understand
It's just a hard game we've got to play

You and me are captive of reality that we've created
Given opportunity to change the way we're situated
Will we follow nature's call?
Or will be too proud and blow it all?
We're up against the wall

Homeboys shooting cee-lo
Pinheads looking for a rock
Jamaicans on the corner smokin' blunts, eating fish
Puerto Ricans fixing cars on blocks

Welcome to the neighborhood
Third stop on the run
See children playing happily
Lollipop and a loaded gun

I’ve seen flood and I've seen famine
Seen fire fall from the sky
Seen a baby with a rattle in the middle of a battle
With no hope in his eye

Welcome to the neighborhood
Third stone from the sun
Better just be cool
Think golden rule
And pray 'cause the days have come

Looking through the eyes of the windows at night
And I wonder
"Can we make it through another day?"
Looking through the eyes of the lonely street lights
And I understand
It's just a hard game we've got to play

You and me are captive of reality that we've created
Given opportunity to change the way we're situated
Will we follow nature's call?
Or will be too proud and blow it all?
We're up against the wall

Coming up, Question 3: What’s a memorable moment that affirmed the significance of the Smokestack to this community?