Iuka Park is inside a crack of earth in the University District, in one the cities cool and unheralded ravines. The ravine covers two blocks starting at Fourth Street, goes under a historic spandrel arch bridge at Summit and spills out near fraternity row off Indianola. The park itself is north of Iuka Avenue, a brick street that runs the span of the ravine. It offers a green space for picnic and wildlife watching--the most wild and native species here of all is of course students.
Iuka has a place in both the history of Columbus and mine as well. It is named after Iuka, Mississippi. It was named so by the original landholder, a Neil family soldier who was wounded in a civil war battle in the town. The ravine once had a stream that ran down into campus and fed Mirror Lake. Since then the stream has been buried underneath the brick avenue, but it is still there, running in pipes below the early 1900s style avenues of off-campus.
Iuka differs from other ravines. Glen Echo is pure rugged wilderness; Walhalla is haunting yet residential. Iuka is more urban. Its east off-campus neighborhood is reflexed in the graffiti, strewn trash, and reveries heard around it. The smell is classic University district: that weird sub-sulfuric scent that seems to bubble up from rain culverts. Yet the scents of nature take over as you walk further. I could tell though there has been an effort to change the ravine from being a hidden party dump to more nature preserve. The place look and felt more maintained than when I first fell down the Summit stairs.
I fell down the Summit Street stairs on September 18, 1994. I know the date because it was the Friday before the Michigan Game that year which is easy to look up. I didn't know there was a ravine there because it is hidden from the road at night, and a friend and I shared a bottle of 151 and some other drinks we should not have had. Walking back I started to wonder why a bridge looking concrete rail was there in a flat city. There was a discussion, a dare, and I took it for twenty-bucks. I jumped off the side of the bridge, at the end of it though, and skipped on the top steps and rolled down the stairs. Lucky not to break my neck, I looked up and saw a beautiful antique bridge silhouetted in the darkness. It was love at first bruise.
I don't know why I'd post a story making me out to be Bevis and Buthead, but it fits the theme of my list here--memories. This became a place to study; I read whole novels on the steps of this bridge, wrote papers on it, kiss dates in the relative quietness of the ravine.
Today it is good for residence to enjoy nature, students to calm their thoughts, and for former residence to remember. It is not the best ravine in town, but it has its urban charms. read more