If asked to share stories about someone you idolize, which would you tell? Some people would speak about a performer who captivates an audience. Others would highlight an athlete who rises to a challenge. Some might discuss a politician who champions legislation that makes life better for their constituents. The most blessed among us will share stories about someone who spent years personally shaping their lives.
This past month, I read Dean Robbins’s latest book “Wisconsin Idols: 100 Heroes who Changed the State, the World, and Me.” Robbins has been collecting stories about his “personal heroes since the second grade,” when he became enamored with the Appleton escape artist Harry Houdini. He categorizes his subjects as “Melody Makers,” “Scene Stealers,” “Champs,” “Boundary Breakers,” and “Thinkers,” packing his personalized odes to greatness within a few pages.
Robbins is an award-winning journalist who knows how to hook a reader with an opening line, spinning them forward with tales about famous peoples’ connections to the Badger State. While one might expect to read about Waukesha guitar pioneer Les Paul, Madison’s comedic legend Chris Farley, and Appleton’s venerated actor Willem Dafoe, Robbins reveals many rich and potentially unexpected connections in his text.
Readers are treated to tales such as how the Seattle grunge band Nirvana recorded early versions for their zeitgeist-changing “Nevermind” album in Madison’s Smart Studios. They learn that while the Apollo 13 Commander Jim Lovell may be famous for stating “Houston, we have a problem,” his life was shaped by his childhood in Milwaukee. Local choreography enthusiasts delight in knowing that our “country’s first dance major” degree wasn’t created for New York City’s Julliard School, but rather by Margaret H’Doubler at the University of Wisconsin.
Robbins also shares empowering stories about some of Wisconsin’s most influential Native Americans. His profiles of venerated Oneida comedian Charlie Hill, celebrated Ho-Chunk memoirist Xéhachiwinga (Mountain Wolf Woman), revered Menominee diplomat Ada Deer, and trail-blazing Stockbridge-Munsee educator Electa Quinney offer excellent introductions to these trailblazers.
While I was reading Robbins’ text, the Menominee community lost a cherished elder who caused me to think about my own heroes. In various remembrances from loved ones, Grace “Bea” Corn was described as a supportive friend and a gifted athlete. She gave of herself long after reaching the status of “elder,” and her selfless generosity certainly enriched my life.
In 2011, Gerald Sanapaw Sr. asked the College of Menominee Nation to help revive the famed Menominee Pageants that were produced most summers beginning in 1937 and ending in the 1970s. The original shows featured recorded dialogue, pantomime, live music, and traditional dancing accented by theatrical technical elements.
In 2016, after untold hours of research and elder interviews, we were able to produce our first revival show in Keshena’s famed Woodland Bowl. On July 30, we will continue what has become an annual production. Bea Corn is the reason we are able to stage them.
Corn gifted her father James Frechette Sr.’s files to CMN. Frechette had a stint as the pageant’s writer and producer in the 1950s, and his handwritten notes and detailed files helped us bring this traditional artform back to prominence.
Corn had two requirements for her donation. First, that the files belong to all Menominee people, not just her descendants. Second, that no one could profit from their proliferation and publication. The pageants are meant for the Menominee people to stage on their ancestral land as a gift to the community. With the details of her donation set, Corn proceeded to be the advisory matriarch of our shows.
In April, I was humbled to win the 2024-2025 Wisconsin Indian Education Association’s Ronald Satz-Friend of Indian Education Award. I accepted my recognition as a non-Native ally at a banquet at the Menominee Casino Resort surrounded by my family and colleagues.
Although I appreciated all of the kind words and support shared with me that night, I was most honored that Corn agreed to leave the comfort of her home and sit beside me as my name was called. From her wheelchair, she insisted on photographing me herself.
An idol is someone we aspire to be like. As Robbins shows in his text, history proves Wisconsinites don’t have to look far to find some of their own. If we’re lucky, those we idolize are among our biggest supporters. Inspired by Bea Corn, I pray that we each can pay that kindness forward.
Ryan Winn, Ph.D., teaches communications, English, history and theater at the College of Menominee Nation. Visit www.menominee.edu for more information about the school.
There’s more behind stories of people’s lives
