In case you hadn’t noticed, the north side of our campus (along Anna Street) is ten or twelve feet higher in elevation than the south lawn. So when, in 1952, our audacious downtown congregation paid the Meves family $8,333 for nine acres of muddy cornfield “away out there on West Anna Street along the north side of that Warm Slough,” they must have known that they were rolling the dice—they had chosen a “problem property” for their new building site. Grand Islanders aren’t much accustomed to dealing with hills and vales. So although we Presbies have always valued unity, one has to wonder if the specially-called congregational meeting passed that “buy” resolution unanimously, or by a “narrow margin.”
Today, we’d no doubt send in the bulldozers to level that inhospitable site. Our 1950s architects chose instead to work with the uneven terrain. One delightful result: the sturdy retaining wall needed to prevent the unstable north bank of the Slough from collapsing became the gracefully-curved northwest wall of our signature sunken garden!
Back before ADA-friendly playgrounds, our preschoolers used to scramble out of their classroom windows to play almost year-around in this lovely, sheltered garden–maybe chasing a butterfly, hopping with the bunnies or waddling after a resident family of ducklings. (That is, until a magnificent red-tailed hawk took up residence in the neighborhood, compelling bunnies and duckies to seek new homes.)
In 1997, a handsome columbarium was installed here for the inurnment of members’ ashes, and the garden was spruced up with some new plantings, some inviting seating, and a flowing fountain—creating a lovely, quiet place for prayer and reflection. Unfortunately, church security dictates that this treasure is only accessible by passing through the building and picking up a key from the office. Anybody have a better plan?