Marathon Pundit: Iowa I Opener: Omaha's Mormon Trail Center

Mormon Trail Center, Omaha

In most of my blog-o-vacations, I manage to wander out of my appointed state. So it was when I drove across the Missouri River and entered Nebraska. I decided to visit the Mormon Trail Center in Omaha.

After being driven out of Nauvoo, Illinois, the bulk of the Latter-day Saints headed west in 1846. As you certainly know, they eventually settled in Utah.

A rainy summer slowed the progress of the Mormons as the traveled across Iowa Territory that year--they only ventured as far as what is now the North Omaha section of Nebraska's largest city to establish their winter quarters. Having left Illinois in haste, they arrived there with few supplies. Scurvy, Malaria, tuberculosis, and other illnesses decimated the Mormons.

The Mormons traveled much more briskly the following spring, reaching Salt Lake City in July, where LDS leader Brigham Young declared, "This is the place."

Unless you are interested in becoming a Latter-day Saint, the Mormon Trail Center is not the place for you. Yes, there are pioneer exhibits, including a replica log cabin and primitive odometer that works with wagons, but the museum is clearly a recruiting center for the LDS faith. I hobbled in, Dr. House-like without the cane, with a five-days growth beard. My calf tendinitis had flared up that morning. I must have been a pathetic sight. However, I was able to run twenty miles two days later. But I guess I looked vulnerable to them.

I was greeted with a "Are you ready to learn about Jesus Christ?" from an attractive young woman, who was closely holding the Book of Mormon in her hands. Being Catholic, I know a lot about Him already. "I'm just here to see the museum," I replied sheepishly. A tall older man, about 60, approached me, and asked me how much time I had to spend there. "Not a whole lot," was my mumbled answer.

When I got back to Illinois, I learned that a Mormon is assigned to each person who enters the museum.

Omaha--from Council Bluffs

My "guide," the tall guy, asked if I wanted to see a movie. "Sure," I nervously replied, while eyeing possible avenues of exit. He walked me into the tiny viewing room--he left, I watched alone.

The film was enjoyable--the cinematography was superb. The main character was a Mormon woman who departs England with her children. Although the first part of the voyage, across the Atlantic, was rough, but the the ship's captain remarks, "There are Mormons on board, we always make it across when they are here." Then they travel by wagon across the continent, passing Nebraska's Chimney Rock and eventually to Utah. There was no mention of polygamy in the film--the Mormon practice of plural marriage was a main reason they were forced out of Illinois.

Just as the Englishwoman was crying tears of joy upon reaching Salt Lake City, I heard the door slowly creak open--it was Tall Guy. Remember, I was assigned to him. He asked me what I thought of the movie. After a noncommittal comment, he volunteered. "It took tremendous faith to make such a journey." He, too, firmly clutched a Book of Mormon. He walked me trough the museum while he tried to get me to open up about my faith. "You, know, the Latter-day Saint movement is a Christian church" he said. I knew that already. By this point I was totally creeped out, I felt as if I was at a time share presentation. An Omaha blogger had a similar experience there.

There are some wonderful Mormons. They are hardworking and industrious. I just don't want to be one.

But I gamely limped through the entire museum with Tall Guy in twenty minutes. I was never more happy to leave a museum. Well, at least it was free.