Confluence

Chapter 1: Echoes of the Driftless

Galena, Illinois - June 2032

Mickey Manning stood at the wide bay window of his office, watching sunlight dapple the surface of the Galena River as it wound its way through the historic town below. The view from his window encompassed not just the river but the remarkable achievement that was the flagship Driftless Rivers Hostel—a unified facility spanning four adjacent lots that had once seemed destined for separate, declining futures. What had begun as a conversation about the struggling finances of two different religious institutions and a property that nobody wanted to take over from the town had evolved into something unprecedented: a public-private partnership that preserved and reimagined historic architecture while creating new opportunities for cultural programming and heritage tourism.

"I've got those visitor projections you wanted," said Amara Woods, Mickey's assistant and the cultural center's chief data analyst. The young woman, a descendant of the Fox tribe who had settled these lands long before miners ever dreamed of Galena's lead riches, handed him a tablet. "We're looking at a thirty percent increase for the summer season."

Mickey smiled. "The bicentennial initiatives of 2026 are paying off."

"That, and people are fascinated by the wedding venue concept for Grant’s Church," Amara replied. "The former sanctuary of the Galena United Methodist Church is now booking into next spring. Apparently, getting married where Ulysses and Julia Grant worshipped is quite the draw for Civil War enthusiasts."

Mickey nodded, still amazed by how perfectly the various pieces had fit together. When the Driftless Rivers Industrial Revolution National Park concept started to gain momentum in 2026, the conversation about what to do with Galena's struggling religious institutions had taken on new urgency. The Galena United Methodist Church congregation had dwindled to fewer than thirty regular attendees, making it impossible to maintain both their historic sanctuary and the non-historic parsonage they had purchased in the 1970s. St. Michael’s Catholic Parish had faced similar challenges, with one priest now serving three parishes across Jo Daviess County.

The breakthrough had come when Lester had suggested treating the four adjacent properties as a single development opportunity rather than separate preservation challenges. At that point it became viable to reach out to private investors.

"Is everything set for tonight's presentation?" Mickey asked, referring to the evening program that would officially launch their "Heritage Conversations" series.

"Professor DeVries is ready with the archaeological materials from the 1820s mining period," Amara confirmed. "And the tribal elders have agreed to display artifacts alongside them—it should be quite a powerful juxtaposition."

The success of the unified development had exceeded everyone's expectations. The old Barrow Mansion, which most recently served as the interim Grant History Museum, now served as the core of the flagship hostel for the Driftless Rivers concept. Its 1850s Italianate architecture had been meticulously preserved, while modern climate controls and accessibility features had been seamlessly integrated while the core of the building was opened up and reconfigured to accommodate individual hostel rooms as well as the more affordable three bunkbeds per large room that is typical of European hostels.

St. Michael’s Catholic Church, next door to the south, with its soaring Gothic Revival architecture and capacity to seat three hundred, had become the center's premier event venue. The removable seating system allowed the space to transform from a traditional sanctuary for Sunday services to a convention-style meeting hall for conferences and large gatherings. The acoustics that had been designed for liturgical music proved equally effective for lectures and presentations.

But it was the innovative approach to the site's challenging topography that had truly made the project special. Galena's steep hillsides, which had once made development difficult, became an asset when the architects realized they could attach multiple levels onto the rock face behind the historic structures. The former parsonage site and the Catholic Church's old parking lot had been excavated to create a four-level parking garage with the lowest level even with Bench Street. The top level, while providing a significant amount of parking, also provides a park-like setting that blends seamlessly to South Prospect Street, making it look like gardens associated with the Osprey House, which clings to the cliff face above the new development.

Mickey’s attention was brought back to the present by the sound of floorboards creaking in the hallway, announcing Lester's arrival before he appeared in the doorway. He appeared dignified in his charcoal suit despite the June humidity. As the Director of Programming, Lester had found his calling in creating educational experiences that bridged academic scholarship with public engagement.

"The tribal representatives just arrived," Lester said, his voice carrying hints of a Canadian accent that thirty years in the United States hadn't quite erased. "Margaret Stillwater brought some additional materials she thought Professor DeVries should see before tonight's presentation."

Mickey raised an eyebrow. "Anything concerning?"

"Potentially significant," Lester replied carefully. "Apparently, construction workers strengthening the foundation of the Interstate Light and Power ruins on the Sauk and Fox tribal lands on the southern tip of Main Street discovered some items that may predate European settlement. Margaret wants to ensure proper protocols are followed."

As Lester departed to coordinate with the archaeological team, Mickey followed him to the new elevators that had been added to what had formerly been the exterior wall of the Barrow Mansion. The pair of elevators now served the entire complex—the parking garage, the offices that formed the street front above Bench Street, and the upper rooms of the hostel that had been built into (and behind) the Barrow Mansion and St. Michael’s. The transformation of the four-lot site had required unprecedented cooperation between municipal government, religious institutions, and the nascent Driftless Rivers organization.

The town of Galena had owned the old museum building, but had been struggling to get elected officials to get on board with the massive renovation costs that would have been required to preserve the 1850s structure. The Catholic Church had owned the properties on both sides of the Barrow Mansion, with St. Michael's to the south and the parking lot that served it on the north. They had been facing the reality that maintaining the beautiful but underutilized Gothic Revival church was quickly going to become financially unsustainable.

The Methodist congregation had owned Grant's Church—the sanctuary where General Grant's family had worshipped—along with the modest 1970s parsonage that held no historic significance. When the Methodist congregation approached the city planner with the idea to demolish the old parsonage and develop something that could keep the historic church financially viable into perpetuity, all the pieces immediately fell into place.

Once Lester and Mickey had been made aware of the opportunity to demolish the UMC parish, the Driftless Rivers proposal was able to formulate a development strategy that served everyone's interests while preserving what was historically significant and replacing what wasn't. The site of the demolished parsonage and the former parking lot became the well-concealed multi-story parking garage, ingeniously hidden from street view by attaching it to the cliff face while putting narrow offices along the front behind an 1850’s façade that looked like two old buildings. At the top of the four-story garage, a series of deep planters provided an outdoor event space along Prospect Street.

The hostel accommodations took advantage of any available space along all four parcels, with the new construction scabbed onto the bluff behind, between, and above the Barrow Mansion and St. Michael's. Where possible, any front-facing windows offered guests spectacular views of the Galena River valley while mostly remaining invisible from the historic streetscape. In addition to temporary office space on the third floor, and a grouping of shared accommodation rooms on the top level, hid the parking structure from view while offering narrow, open-air balconies above Bench Street. Regardless of whether they were in the restored buildings or the new construction, the rooms themselves reflected the same attention to historical authenticity and modern comfort that had guided the entire project. Every room had been furnished with period-appropriate pieces alongside contemporary amenities.

Most ingeniously, the high-ceilinged "Rogues, Rebels, and Unsung Heroes Lounge" had been stretched along the front of the new development between the parking garage and sidewalk. Built at street level with carefully designed garage doors that opened onto the sidewalk when the weather cooperated, the venue created a unique atmosphere that felt intimate, historic, and dramatic. The ingeniously lit exposed rock walls at the rear of the parking garage gave the appearance of being open to the sky, providing a feeling that each level was the uppermost level.

The opening of the elevator doors interrupted Mickey's reflection. Margaret Stillwater entered, her weathered hands carrying a wooden box that clearly contained items of some significance.

"Mr. Manning," she said with the direct manner that Mickey had come to appreciate during their years of collaboration. "We need to discuss what was found at the Interstate Light and Power site."

Margaret set the box on Mickey's desk and carefully opened it, revealing several objects wrapped in soft cloth. As she unwrapped them, Mickey found himself looking at artifacts that were clearly very old—carved stone implements, small pottery items, and what appeared to be metal artifacts that predated European contact.

"Where exactly were these discovered?" Mickey asked, though he was beginning to suspect the answer.

"These were found in a stone-lined chamber that was narrowly missed when they were exposing the stone footings of the original 1894 building," Margaret replied.

Mickey felt a familiar chill of recognition. "You think the chamber predates the presence of Europeans?"

"Yes, possibly by hundreds, if not thousands of years," Margaret stated quietly. "These artifacts suggest this site, and possibly the entire Galena River watershed, has been significant to indigenous populations for a very long time. The chamber appears to have been a storage place for ceremonial items, likely dating back to the Hopewellian period."

The implications were immediately clear to Mickey. It had been hoped that the Driftless Rivers Industrial Revolution National Park might one day encompass the region's most significant archaeological sites, which is why the proposed boundaries of the park had been established to contain not only the rivers themselves, but also the privately-owned, uninhabited, and unprotected flood plains of those rivers.

Securing the land for the national park was going to be a decades-long process, so even after six years of planning and legal wrangling, some of the highly prized targeted parcels of land were still tied up in legal claims related to the procurement process. The claims that had been prioritized in those legal proceeding were those related to lands where indigenous tribes had expressed strong cultural and historical connections. Mickey and Lester had anticipated this when they formed their Driftless Rivers coalition of investors, which is why they had successfully pushed the City of Galena to place a restrictive covenant on the Interstate Light and Power parcel to prevent its sale.

When the owner recently passed away, it kick-started the land claims, and Margaret had turned to the Driftless Rivers coalition to fund the archaeological exploration that was going to be essential to filing land claims on behalf of the indigenous tribes. Prior to doing any significant archaeological excavations though, the roofless walls of the old structure, which were themselves protected historical artifacts, needed to be secured and reinforced, which is what had been ongoing when this discovery was made.

While all contractors working within these boundaries had been required to follow protocols for archeological exploration and historic preservation, no one had anticipated discovering pre-Columbian artifacts along the Galena River.

"What do we need to do?" Mickey asked, though he suspected the answer would complicate their carefully planned opening schedule.

"First, we stop all work in the area where these were found," Margaret replied. "Then we bring in proper archaeological expertise and ensure that those tribal nations most closely connected to these materials are fully involved in determining next steps."

Mickey nodded, recognizing the gravity of the situation. The success of the numerous Driftless Rivers projects had always depended on maintaining authentic relationships with indigenous communities and respecting the deep history of the region. The discovery of these newest artifacts, while potentially challenging in the short term, also represented an opportunity to deepen that commitment.

"Will this affect tonight's presentation?" he asked.

Margaret considered this carefully. "It changes the context significantly. We're not just talking about nineteenth-century lead mining and the Industrial Revolution anymore. We're now dealing with evidence pointing to continuous human occupation spanning thousands of years."

As Margaret carefully rewrapped the artifacts, Mickey reflected on how this discovery epitomized the complexity of working in a place like Galena. Every renovation project, every development initiative, carried the potential to uncover layers of history that demanded respectful attention. The town's identity tracked perfectly with both the first and second Industrial Revolutions, but, like almost everything associated with colonization, that prosperity had been extracted from lands that held much deeper significance.

The phone on his desk chimed with a message from Lester: "Additional tribal representatives arriving. Professor DeVries suggests postponing any public presentation until we better understand what we're dealing with."

Mickey typed back quickly: "Agreed. Let's focus on getting this right rather than meeting any deadlines."

As Margaret prepared to leave with the artifacts, she paused at the door. "Mr. Manning, this discovery doesn't threaten our projects. But it does deepen it. The national park, the tribal land claims, and your Driftless Rivers projects now have the opportunity to better tell stories that go far beyond the Industrial Revolution era, to honor the full scope of human experience in this region."

After she departed, Mickey remained at his window, contemplating the view with a new understanding. The Galena River had carried canoes and rafts long before steamboats. It had also provided for indigenous people centuries before European miners arrived seeking lead. The bluffs that were now home to the hostel's innovative architecture had witnessed countless generations of human activity, each leaving traces that connect to the others.

The Driftless Rivers projects, developed through unprecedented cooperation between religious, municipal, and tribal communities, had just become something even more significant than its creators had imagined. Instead of simply preserving nineteenth-century history, it would become a place where the full depth of human presence in the Driftless Area could be explored and honored.

The challenges ahead were considerable—archaeological protocols to follow, tribal consultations to arrange, possibly construction delays that would test everyone's patience and budgets—but Mickey had learned over the past six years that the most meaningful work often emerged from such complications, and that apparent obstacles frequently revealed opportunities for deeper authenticity and broader community engagement.

As afternoon shadows lengthened across the river valley, Mickey began drafting the emails that would set in motion a more complex but ultimately more truthful approach to the national park’s mission—one that honored not just the documented history of recent centuries—but the deeper currents of human experience that had shaped this remarkable landscape since time immemorial.

The Driftless Rivers Hostel and its Rogues, Rebels, and Unsung Heroes Lounge that prominently features the story of Black Hawk’s leadership in defense of his people, would still open to the public on schedule, but it would soon be telling stories that reached back thousands of years rather than merely hundreds, creating connections between past and present that few heritage sites had the opportunity to explore with such authenticity and depth.

---

Lester Brandt's fingers danced across the organ keys in Grant's Church, coaxing a Bach fugue from the one-of-a-kind 1885 Moline pipe organ that had been carefully restored as part of the sanctuary's transformation into a wedding and concert venue. The music filled the Gothic Revival space, bouncing off the stained-glass windows and wrapping around the pews that would soon be filled with visitors for the heritage presentation.

When the last note faded, a voice from the back of the sanctuary said, "That was beautiful."

Lester turned on the bench to see Margaret Stillwater standing in the center aisle, accompanied by a man he didn't recognize—elderly, with silver hair and the weathered hands of someone who had spent his life working outdoors.

"Thank you," Lester replied, rising from the organ bench. "Just preparing for tonight's program, though it appears there will be some changes to the presentation."

Margaret nodded. "I'd like you to meet Dr. James WhiteEagle, the Ho-Chunk Nation's Tribal Historic Preservation Officer. He's just arrived from Wisconsin to join the team examining what we found at the old Interstate Light and Power site."

Dr. WhiteEagle stepped forward, extending his hand with the formal courtesy that Lester had learned to recognize among tribal officials who navigated constantly between traditional protocols and contemporary professional requirements.

“Mr. Brandt," Dr. WhiteEagle said, his voice carrying quiet authority. "Margaret has told me about the Driftless Rivers’ commitment to inclusive historical interpretation. The artifacts discovered today may provide opportunities to expand that interpretation significantly."

Lester gestured toward the pews, inviting them to sit while they discussed the implications of the morning's discovery. As they settled into the sanctuary that had witnessed Ulysses S. Grant’s family during worship services more than 150 years earlier, the weight of historical continuity felt particularly present.

"How significant are the materials that were found?" Lester asked.

Dr. WhiteEagle exchanged a glance with Margaret before responding. "Potentially extraordinary. The stone-lined chamber appears to have been a seasonal cache, possibly used by multiple indigenous groups over many centuries. The variety of artifacts suggests this riverbank site served as a meeting place or trading center for peoples from throughout the region. At first glance, these artifacts seem to come from the same mound builders that created the Thunderbird Mound on Casper Bluff."

"Which would make sense," Margaret added, "given Galena's position at the confluence of two major waterways and trade routes. What we now think of as the European 'discovery' of lead deposits was really European recognition of mining activities that had been ongoing for generations."

Lester nodded, his historian's mind immediately grasping the implications. "That makes sense. Obviously, Pilot’s Nob had not just been a highly visible landmark for the steamboat captains looking for the mouth of the Galena River. It’s clear that the nineteenth-century mining boom wasn't the beginning of mineral extraction here—it was an expansion of existing practices."

"Exactly," Dr. WhiteEagle confirmed. "And the cache suggests this site held special significance beyond its economic value. Places where the emerging tribes would meet safely for trade and ceremony were rare and precious. These artifacts likely represent the formative era in which the Sauk and Fox, Ho-Chunk, Winnebago, and Sioux nations were taking shape."

The three sat in contemplative silence for a moment, each processing how this discovery would affect their respective responsibilities. For Lester, it meant completely reconceptualizing the Driftless River's interpretive approach. For Margaret and Dr. WhiteEagle, it meant ensuring proper respect for sacred materials while finding ways to share their significance with broader audiences. It also meant that the old Interstate Light and Power land would almost certainly become part of the Thunderbird Mound land claim.

"What does this mean for our opening timeline?" Lester asked, though he suspected educational opportunity would take precedence over scheduling convenience.

"It depends on what additional discoveries the proper archaeological survey reveals," Dr. WhiteEagle replied. "The chamber we've found may be just one element of a larger complex. We'll need ground-penetrating radar studies, careful excavation protocols, and consultation with all the tribal nations who have historical connections to this area."

Margaret leaned forward. "But this could also be the opportunity to do something unprecedented in Illinois—to create a cultural center that genuinely integrates thousands of years of human activity into the Galena tourism industry, rather than focusing only on the period of documented European settlement."

Lester felt a familiar excitement that came when educational possibilities exceeded original expectations. "We could tell the complete story of how different peoples have related to this landscape over time, and show the continuities as well as the changes."

"The Driftless Area's unique geology preserved not just the land from glacial impact but also evidence of human occupation that was destroyed elsewhere," Dr. WhiteEagle noted. "This site could become a model for how heritage interpretation can honor the full scope of human experience rather than just the most recent chapters."

Their conversation was interrupted as Mickey entered the sanctuary, his expression suggesting he carried news of additional developments.

"We've got reporters asking questions," Mickey announced without preamble. "Word of the archaeological discovery is spreading, and there's interest from both academic institutions and tribal communities throughout the Midwest."

Margaret and Dr. WhiteEagle exchanged another glance, clearly having anticipated this development.

"That's not necessarily problematic," Dr. WhiteEagle said carefully, "provided the coverage respects the cultural significance of what's been found and doesn't sensationalize the discovery for entertainment purposes."

Mickey joined them, sitting sideways in the pew in front of them, his business instincts balancing with his commitment to cultural authenticity. "What kind of timeline are we looking at for proper archaeological assessment?"

"Months, not weeks," Dr. WhiteEagle replied honestly. "But changing out the interpretive displays doesn't need to halt operations. The discovery only affects the planned developments for Interstate Light and Power site. The hostel accommodations, the event venues, and most of the programming spaces can proceed normally."

"And this could actually enhance our mission," Lester added, his educator's enthusiasm building. "Instead of opening with nineteenth-century mining history, we open with a much deeper story that shows how this place has been significant to human communities for millennia."

Margaret smiled approvingly. "The artifacts themselves tell stories about trade networks, ceremonial practices, technological innovation, environmental adaptation—all themes that connect to contemporary challenges and opportunities. I would also encourage you to make changes to how you tell Black Hawk’s story in the Rogues, Rebels, and Unsung Heroes Lounge. This better explains his deep commitment to reclaiming these lands."

Mickey nodded slowly, recognizing the potential for turning an apparent complication into an unprecedented opportunity. "Margaret, as always, you are correct. We'll need to adjust our marketing, our interpretive materials, our staff training—everything."

"But we'll have something no other heritage site in the region can offer," Lester pointed out. "Authentic material evidence of continuous human occupation, interpreted with direct input from descendant communities."

As they continued planning their response to the discovery, the late afternoon sun streamed through Grant's Church's stained-glass windows, casting colorful patterns across the pews where they sat. The sanctuary that had been witness to Civil War-era worship services would soon host wedding ceremonies and concerts, while just blocks away, artifacts dating back centuries before European contact would be studied and interpreted by archaeologists and tribal historians.

Galena’s flagship Driftless Rivers Hostel, conceived as a preservation project that showcased the downtown’s nineteenth-century architecture, was evolving into something far more significant—a place where the full depth of human relationship to this remarkable landscape could be explored and honored. The cooperation between religious institutions, municipal government, and tribal nations that had made the project possible was proving even more valuable than anyone had initially realized.

When they finally concluded their planning session, as evening settled over the Galena River valley, all four participants carried with them a sense of participating in something historically significant. The hostel would still serve its intended functions as a heritage tourism destination and community gathering place, but it would do so while honoring stories and perspectives that reached back to the very beginnings of human presence in the Driftless Area.

The artifacts discovered along the banks of the Galena River had transformed their project from preservation of recent history into exploration of deep time—an opportunity to demonstrate how contemporary communities could honor the full complexity of the places they inhabited, acknowledging the layers of human experience that connected past, present, and future in ways that few heritage sites had the privilege to explore with such authenticity and community support.